A fifty something year old man was briskly walking along the pavement on Milbank heading south. He was keeping himself warm with his weathered black overcoat with the collars faced up to stop the wind on the back of his neck. He carried a leather note holder. He was walking in a brisk manner. Mainly because he would rather be back at the office than outside.
"Control?" A voice came from behind him.
He turned behind very quickly and saw a man in a grey suit and carrying a fake leather briefcase.
"Who the hell are you?" The old man asked sternly.
"Home office. I need to talk to you in private"
"Sorry, I'm rather busy as I have to be back in the office at the moment" The old man turned back and continued walking at the same pace as before.
The other man jogged to catch up with him "Sir, I need to speak to you. It's about Mr Rickers"
The man stopped for a moment and considered his response "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know who he is" The old man started to walk off, never looking back at the man.
"If you suddenly remember him in the next two hours by chance, I'll be waiting in a café just off Victoria Street. I hear the service there is very good"
That struck a chord with the older man. He turned back sharply and stood almost toe to toe with the man in the grey suit with the fake leather case "I don't know how you found that out. It's not a very well-known place. But it's certainly not a place for the likes of you" He spoke in code.
"Well like I said, I'll be there in two hours" The younger man stepped back and turned back the way he came "Hope to see you there" He called back as he trotted off feeling pleased with himself.
The older man looked on with utter contempt. He reached in his left trouser pocket for his mobile and pressed one on the speed dial.
"Who was I speaking to?" He asked the person on the other end. The answer after a few moments surprised him.
"Well I don't care if he's a man from the ministry, I want to know how the hell he knows about one of my contact points. Track him and get everything you can from him. I want to know what I'm facing" He hung up before the other person to acknowledge the order. The man replaced his mobile and turned back the way he was previously walking.
Back at the Autobot base there was some results.
"Optimus, I've tracked him down. The law enforcement is currently trying to apprehend him on the highway heading west from the city. I'll tap into their communication system, it'll give us a better picture of what exactly is going on"
After a while the group of bots and humans broke up after feverously waiting for news. It didn't take them long to reassemble.
"457 to control, suspect is still on lane three heading westbound passing junction three with speeds in excess of a hundred miles an hour"
"Roger that. Control to all units, this in my opinion is getting dangerous. He clearly isn't stopping for anybody so I'm bringing India nine, nine for aerial support. Maintain a visual contact with him but back off. He might calm down"
Other ground units acknowledge the command.
Ratchet typed away some more. "I'm attempting to bring up a video feed from the ground units and also see if there is one from that mentioned aerial support"
He carried on typing and in a matter of a few seconds he had hacked the firewall for New Scotland Yard and it was a simple task of working out which ground unit was closest to Michael and bringing up that video feed that was being transmitted directed to Metropolitan Police Headquarters.
Ratchet brought up a separate window and everyone watched. The camera was mounted on the dashboard. The head up display showed the police cars own speed in the bottom right corner which was displaying 108mph. Other irrelevant information like time in UTC and the GPS position was shown.
The police was overtaking traffic in the far right lane in the three lane carriageway. The sound of the siren was heard on two tone with the odd occasion of flashing blue light coming off various overtaking vehicles. Up in the distance a bright green motorbike could be seen making fairly safe overtaking manoeuvres, safe for the speed it was travelling at. The traffic had moved over to the left after seeing the blue lights of what must be a number of police vehicles. All in all the situation wasn't that spectacular, a motorbike that was a hell of a lot faster than the pursuing police vehicles was quickly getting away and the police could do nothing about it.
"Where do you think he's going?" Ratchet asked absentmindedly.
"Well he can't travel the entire M4 at that speed without stopping for fuel" Baines quipped.
The answer was pretty much explained as a large blue road sign for an approaching junction. One long arrow pointing up displaying;
Reading
Oxford
Swindon
Another line broke off to the left from the main one displaying the symbol of a plane with the words
West Drayton
Slough
Heathrow T1 T3
"Heathrow, that's where he's heading" Baines said unexpectedly.
"Why in Uncle Sam's beard would do that?!" Fowler exclaimed "His passport was confiscated, he can't fly out of the country"
Baines looked away from the computer screen to Fowler "Have you ever flown to London before?"
"A few years ago and I flew into Gatwick, not Heathrow"
"Oh. Well I say he's going there because it has many ways in and out that are always packed full of people. Easy to disappear and with all those routes he could take, he could go anywhere"
They all looked back at the video feed and sure enough Michael went and did just that by waiting for the last moment before veering suddenly to the left and onto the slip road for the junction. The lead police car was taken by surprise and was stuck on the carriageway and had no choice but to proceed to the next junction. Ratchet searched out the next car that had a visual on the escaping motorcycle.
"Suspect coming off at junction four" A man spoke through the radio.
The cars followed the slip road till it came to the roundabout and hit a line of waiting traffic which had stopped for the red light. The cars took to the hard shoulder and undertook the traffic and proceeded onto the roundabout and out of the view of the screen the commentary gave a full picture of the situation. They took the first exit for the airport and tried to keep pace till the next roundabout where an old passenger plane was placed as a piece of art. They took the second exit and chased the bright green motorbike into the tunnel that went underneath the north runaway. The sirens had changed to the ultra-quick yelps and wailers which were heard from other units behind to press home the point to other road users of what was coming.
The bike came back into view for just a moment when it reached the exit of the tunnel and came into daylight. The road split again and the bright green sports bike dived to the right for terminal three.
"Ratchet, try to access the CCTV for that airport terminal" Optimus ordered.
Ratchet again typed away.
At the terminal itself, Michael steered through the traffic for the short stay multi-storey car park although he didn't bother waiting for a ticket or the barrier and shot past as it came down behind a car. He went straight along the first level to the end of the first row and dumped the bike. Before the police had a chance to catch up he bolted it for the exit to departures.
Back at the Autobot base they picked him up on the CCTV. He wasn't hard to spot. He almost ran into the automatic glass doors and quickly merged with the bustling crowds of people looking for which desk to check in to. He was still easy to spot.
Ratchet was quickly switching from one camera to another as Michael ran down the length of the check in hall. He ran in a slide sideways motion and occasionally tip-toeing as if he was trying to quickly find someone in the queues. The reason was all too clear as people quickly shuffled out of his way as they assumed he was security, he looked the part with his white shirt and epaulettes.
However close behind him was the real deal as the police entered the terminal. Ten officers and split up into pairs and to avoid panic they walked briskly instead of all out running into the crowds. The last thing they need were people running scared causing a stampede.
Michael was seeking out flights for the United States, he found the desks for United, Delta and American Airlines all grouped together with flights from New York all the way to Los Angeles and everywhere else in between.
He needed to change his appearance, but being a big built six foot eight man made that a very difficult task even when trying to buy clothes from the shops which in this case he didn't have time for and didn't want to do in the present circumstance.
So if he wasn't going to find someone like him, he would have to compromise and find someone else large enough in a different respect so he was searching the queues for US bound flights and sure enough in the queue for a flight to Richmond, Virginia was an obese man wearing a light blue hoodie and grey track suits trousers.
"Bingo" Michael whispered to himself. He looked back the way he came and moved off to the end of the row of check in desks and turned his back and leaned over the desk and pretended to be quickly reading a sheet of paper. Over the sounds of the people, the announcements and the general hum of the building he made out two quickened footsteps and he turned his head just enough the see two police officers coming from the way he came and walk right past without giving a second glance to him.
'Idiots' He thought.
They obviously were expecting him to still be running and he wouldn't try something as silly as hiding so poorly, but because of that they didn't give him a second thought, by leaning over he already reduced his apparent height and hid his epaulettes as well so he didn't even show up in the corner of their eyes. Michael had just played the oldest trick in the book.
He checked where the obese hoodie was. The guy already has his luggage on the conveyor belt which was being weighed. The man got his ticket and moved away from the desk and was headed down the hall.
Back at the base they watched him seemingly check the queues for something.
"What's he doing?" Arcee thought aloud "If he's making a run for it why doesn't he… well run?"
"He's going to change his appearance" Baines spoke up, answering Arcee's question, he's attention always on the screen.
Ratchet heard this and concentrated even harder so that he wouldn't miss a moment. He watched as Michael stopped at one queue, seeing something he looked for and to his surprise he moved over to a desk and picked something up just as two police officers ran through the camera frame completely ignoring Michael who in turn then looked back to what he was looking at moments.
"What are you looking at Michael?" Ratchet asked the screen. Then Michael walked on and carried straight off the camera field of vision.
Michael followed the hooded man to the toilets and hung back a few moments. He knew there was a camera on him somewhere so he waited till a few more men walked in and then he followed. If someone was monitoring the CCTV they couldn't be sure now which guy he was about to change appearance with, if they were smart enough to even get that far.
There were four men at the urinals, none were the obese man and only one was of the cubicles was in use. He went into another cubical and locked the door and just stood there, he heard the other four leave one by one and no one else enter. The sound of a toilet flushed and Michael unlocked his cubicle and stepped out and waited for the man to come out of his. The door opened and the man face was red, blotched and tight. Michael took two large strides, first his right foot and on his left he reared his right fist and then charged it straight into the man face.
The man didn't see it coming and was knocked out before he even hit the floor.
Michael dragged him into the cubicle and took off the hoodie and trouser and simply put it over his current attire. He looked at the man's footwear, a fairly expensive designer pair of white trainers, but two sizes too small. He tore off his ID tag and dumped it with the knock out man draped on the toilet seat. He closed the door of the cubicle and walked out of the toilets.
The base saw him go into the toilets which didn't have any cameras inside. As luck would have it a man near to Michael's size walked in, though he might have been six foot five. He was the first in and last out of the men that Michael waited for.
"That's got to be him" Baines blurted out "Ratchet, follow him" The Autobot medic then trawled through the camera system to keep up with the man in a clear hurry, the man they thought was Michael.
The real Michael walked down the departures hall in his new blue hoodie which he had up and his grey track suits and he headed for the underground back into Central London.
The fifty something year something old man was let to his table by a waiter. The table was set up for two with a chair each side from each other. The man with the grey suit was already sat at the table. His fake leather briefcase was being kept safe at the waiter's desk.
"Please, take a seat" The man gestured to the table. It was covered in a white cotton table cloth. Each had a small plate and a small bowl of butter and knife for the bread, a fork, spoon and another knife at the ready and at the centre of the table was a little china vase with a single fake flower in it. The old man sat down with the waiter pushing the chair under him.
"Well I take it you now remember Mr Rickers?" The younger man asked.
"What do you want?" The older man got to the point.
The other was faked being surprised at the old man's abruptness "Well, I'll take that as a yes then. Then you might know about what is going on with him at this moment in time?"
"Oh, I know perfectly well and I also know perfectly well who you are. You realize that you are putting your case at risk by directly speaking to a key witness outside of the tribunal, yes?"
"Maybe. I've come to ask you one thing. What will you say at the tribunal?"
"Why should I tell you, besides Mr Barnaby, you already know what I will say"
Barnaby gestured for him to say it by a display of his palms.
"Ok, Mr Rickers isn't a treat to UK security and he is one of the best people I've ever worked with and that more people like him should be encouraged"
"Well we at the Home Office disagree. I want you to change your statement"
"I'll do no such thing. I've never listened to the man from the Ministry in all my years and I intend to keep it that way. I'm a civil servant, not a politician"
The waiter came round with an opened bottle of red wine and poured into each glass and placed the bottle on the table. Both remained silent till he was out of ear shot.
Barnaby and the old man glared daggers at each other.
"Why did you come to ask me this if you knew I'm going to say no? What's happened? Why now?"
"Change your statement, you'll make it a whole lot easier on yourself if you do now"
"Are you threatening me? It isn't going to work on me" The old man paused for a moment and thought about something "Let me guess, were you the one who was always bullied at school? Small little loner with no friends?"
Barnaby looked away.
"Thought so" The old man was about to stand up but Barnaby grabbed his left hand.
"Change your statement" He growled under his breath glaring up at him.
The old man sat back down "You're serious?" He picked up and took a sip of his wine "You look a bit flustered, maybe you need to cool down a bit"
The old man stood up knocking his chair back and spilt the wine over Barnaby. Everyone else in the restaurant went silent to the commotion.
"This meeting is over" The old man turned and headed for the exit. Barnaby looked at the faces looking at him and slightly blushed. He quickly got up and chased after the old man.
He rushed past the waiters' desk and barged past people, though the glass double doors and into the small tight street. He saw the old man had made considerable distance so he had to jog in order to catch up.
He caught up with the old man panting and out of breath. Exercise was something he clearly not round to.
"Stop, will you please just stop and listen to me" He panted.
The older man stopped and turned to face him. It was clear in his mind Barnaby wasn't giving up just yet.
"Look, I know you have your reasons, but trust me you would be doing yourself a massive favour if you change your statement"
"You don't sound very threatening. Do what you want, but if you so much as try asking of such a thing ever again, I'll be watching you be put before a select committee. Understand?"
Barnaby seemed to bow down knowing how real that threat was. "Fine, I'm sorry. Allow me to drive you back to Thames house. I'm sure you must be terribly busy"
The old man considered it. I ride back or walk for a half hour or public transport. "Well seeing how much of my time you have wasted I'll take that in recompense and also that you never ask of such a thing again"
"You have my word" Barnaby led the older man down the street and took a right at the junction. A minute later they approached his car.
"A bit flashy?" The old man said.
"I've always had a thing for exotic cars" Barnaby answered.
The old man looked through the windows "Left hand drive?"
"It's an import" Barnaby fumbled for the keys and unlocked the car.
Both of them climbed into the red sports car. Barnaby did his seatbelt and as the old man closed his door all Barnaby said was "I'm so terribly sorry"
The old man didn't get time to ask why when the his seatbelt wrapped itself tightly around him and a two prong fork came out from the glove box and an electrical bolt zapped him into unconsciousness. The car started itself up and took off down the street.
"You took your time" Knock Out told Barnaby.
"I gave him one more chance to change his mind. Make it easier, see?"
Knock Out didn't respond, he drove on and once again dealt with the London traffic.
Happy New Year