Freeman hesitated before stepping into the communal lift. By rights he should have been at home and catching up on sleep after spending the last twelve hours supervising the night watch. But something felt wrong, as if he'd been given the post just to keep him out of the way. SHADO had a perfectly competent night staff with their own Watch Officer and, with the continued dearth of any UFO activity, Freeman had spent the entire duty metaphorically twiddling his thumbs. The whole set-up stank and once the shift ended, his first thought was to do a little quiet investigation to find out what was going on. But first he needed to ensure Peter Fitzpatrick didn't catch sight of him. That would cause even more problems. So, the communal lift it was with its coded entry system, instead of Ed Straker's office and Miss Ealand with her welcoming smile.
He'd checked the duty roster for the next twenty-four hours and, according to the list, a cohort of new recruits were scheduled to arrive first thing for a meeting with Fitzpatrick. A quick search had revealed no other details and there was nothing in the main system – no names or ID, no background history, just a brief sentence. So before he'd finished his shift he'd done a little tweaking to several security cameras and a certain fire escape exit, then he'd made a fuss about going home, said goodnight to everyone else and gone 'up top' where he'd made sure the cameras in Miss Ealand's office watched him leave. It was easy enough to drive out, find somewhere nearby to park and then walk back.
The studio complex was busy enough at that time in the morning for him to be able to slip unnoticed inside the fire escape, make his way down to the lower levels of HQ and hide out until the new recruits came past on their way to Fitzpatrick's office in less than an hour. He ended up taking refuge in one of the secondary breaker rooms situated on the main corridor. Anyone going to Straker's office would have to walk along that corridor and it was far enough away from the Control Room that he might be able to make a quick exit once he'd seen the recruits.
His chosen refuge was more of a small cubicle rather than a room, its walls covered in breaker switches, the loud hum of power circuits in action, a sense of dry heat and static charges surrounding him. An uncomfortable time, but there was nowhere else suitable. At least no one would be likely to enter the tiny space, not unless there was a power failure. He eased the door open a fraction and leaned against the inner wall, patient and silent. Then just as he was beginning to wonder if he had been wasting his time, he saw one of SHADO's security team leading a group of men out of the Control Room, heading for Fitzpatrick's office.
Freeman held his breath and stepped back, watching as SHADO's commanding officer escorted the new recruits into the office. The door closed, shutting out any sounds and he slipped out and made his way into the Control Room. A quick tap on Keith Ford's shoulder, a quiet murmur. "Trouble." Then he hurried away, not wanting to be seen by Fitzpatrick, or indeed by any of the new SHADO operatives.
Sound Stage 4 was still deserted, though he could see preparations underway for the next production. Ford arrived soon after, locking the door and stepping close to his senior officer so that they could converse without being overheard. "Colonel?"
Alec leaned closer, despite the emptiness of the vast space. "The new staff, Keith. What do you know about them? Where have they come from?"
Ford gave a hesitant shrug. "I don't have that much information, Colonel. I was told by Fitzpatrick there would be eight staff arriving today, and I had to set up their security authorisations and arrange for accommodation in the base. Is there a problem?"
Freeman thought for a moment. Perhaps he had been mistaken, perhaps he had over-reacted; but then the memories of what had occurred in FarSight returned and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that these were some of the same workers who had been on the FarSight complex. The same workers who had been busy redesigning the main systems, for some unknown reason. And with a sense of dread, Freeman realised he was no longer safe here in SHADO. They would kill him without a moment's hesitation and, not only kill him, but anyone working with him. "Keith. You mustn't tell anyone you've spoken to me. Whatever you do, don't say you saw me. Your life depends on that." He placed one hand on Ford's shoulder. "That's an order, understand?"
"If you say so, Colonel, but why?"
"Don't ask. It's best if you don't know any more. Just do one last thing for me, please. Keep checking Commander Straker's transponder, however unlikely it is that it'll be active. If you get any signal, any message, anything at all from him, let me know. I'll be on this number. It's secure. You have my word on that." And he handed Ford a slip of paper with a number scrawled on it.
Ford looked at it once, nodded and tore it into tiny shreds. "Got it. I'll contact the Secret Service and arrange for someone to meet Mr Harlington at Dulles. Should make things easier."
Alec stared. "How the hell did you know I was going to Washington, Keith?"
"Why do you think I'm Chief Communications Officer?" Ford shrugged but his eyes held more than a touch of sadness. "Don't worry Colonel, I'm no fool; I know what's happening. I want Straker back here as much as you or anyone else does, but let's be honest; it's never going to happen. The aliens have him and it's only a matter of time before he breaks and gives them the codes and they eliminate him. And then? Well, then all hell breaks loose, and there'll be nothing you or I or anyone here can do to stop Fitzpatrick. Those new recruits? They'll be looking out for him; their new boss, protecting him. Go to The White House, Colonel. Tell the president. But she's not going to be able to help either. And you know it as well as I do. Don't forget: Mr Harlington." And Keith Ford turned and walked away.
***
The SHADO Hypersonic jet was on its regular run across the Atlantic, ferrying staff, supplies and hard copies of information too important to risk sending electronically. Hidden away in the back was Alec Freeman – unofficial, unlisted, not mentioned on any manifest. No luggage, no passport, no identification. But he didn't need any. It had been easy enough to sneak onboard the jet, dressed in nondescript uniform overalls and keeping his head down to avoid the cameras. Too easy in fact. If SHADO survived the forthcoming disaster – though at that moment he could foresee nothing but total disaster ahead for the organisation – he was going to implement serious changes across all the security protocols, but for now he was content to relax, safe in the knowledge that Fitzpatrick would not miss him until midnight tonight and by then he hoped to have a plan of attack in place.
The plane landed at Dulles – a touchdown as good as any he might have done himself –before taxiing to the secure hanger used by all SHADO aircraft. He stayed where he was until the crew were disembarking and then followed them out without a word. From there it was a simple matter of walking into the main concourse and searching out the nearest Secret Service agent. At eight in the morning the airport was busy, and he stood there, tired and worried and jet-lagged, scanning the crowds for anyone who might be Secret Service.
They spotted him first, or perhaps Ford had sent them a photo of him. The first agent was a tall man, nondescript and unshaven, dressed in casual jeans and a unzipped sweatshirt with stains on the front but there was a wire in his ear and a suspicious bulge under his left arm and a look of alertness in his eyes. A second man accompanied him, smaller, stocky, looking half-asleep but with one hand tucked in a deep pocket of his loose jacket. The first man nodded in acknowledgement. "Mr Harlington? Your designation, please."
"Shadow Catcher Two Seven."
The response was gratifying. "Very good, sir. We have a car waiting once we've done the formal security checks."
He could see two more agents in the distance and he wondered just how many were waiting in the concourse to meet him. And he thought back to Ford and his ability to smooth the way and shook his head at his own stupidity. SHADO didn't need its security protocols updating and he hadn't got into the fire escape or the breaker room or even onto the SHADO jet by means of just his own skills. Keith Ford had been tracking him since his return to Earth and his success in evading discovery had been down to Keith Ford working tirelessly to keep him safe: diverting internal cameras, altering records and enabling him to access all areas freely. A welcome yet sobering reminder of the Communications Officer's efficiency.
Within minutes he had been checked for weapons, retina-scanned, voice-printed and bundled into a long sedan escorted by two official vehicles heading at speed to the White House. No one spoke, but he could see the inquisitive looks he was getting; a middle-aged man, dishevelled and unshaven, dressed in crumpled overalls and with nothing to prove his identity other than a codename and a VPI.
Despite the luxurious vehicle it was not a pleasant journey, the tall man sitting opposite watching Freeman's every move as if expecting him to pull out a gun. Freeman forced back a yawn, aware of his thirst and a growing hunger. It had been – he thought for a moment – far too many hours since his last meal, and it didn't look as if he was going to get anything in the next hour or so. So he did the only sensible thing, which was to fold his arms, close his eyes and sleep. A brief catnap would help refresh his mind if not his body. He woke when the convoy pulled to a halt in the underground car park by the lifts; and his door was opened by an armed officer in full combat uniform. The obligatory check for concealed weapons, though he wondered where the hell he might have managed to acquire one since being checked at the airport. Then a nod.
"This way, sir."
He followed, stumbling a little from tiredness. His last full night's sleep had been over thirty-six hours ago and since then he'd travelled from FarSight to Earth, discovered that Fitzpatrick seemed to be hell-bent on reducing SHADO to the effectiveness of a mewling kitten and then done a full night shift before risking his life on what might be a fool's errand to Washington in the hope that POTUS might have some advice.
The lift was spacious, well-lit and a security officer's dream. Cameras in every nook and cranny, mirrors to make any movement visible, an armed officer waiting inside to pat him down – again. He tolerated the intrusion, but by the time the lift doors closed he was ready to hit the next person who laid their hands on him.
The lift stopped, the door opened. Another corridor. More guards.
He held up a hand. "Enough. Inform your president that Colonel Alec Freeman is here about a matter of global security. You have five minutes to get me into her office or I'm going back to London."
Hushed whispers. A murmured conversation on comms. Then someone wearing a dark suit stepped forward. "Colonel Freeman? I apologise for the delay. The president will see you now. This way, please."
No more delays, no more raised eyebrows at his dishevelled appearance and the heavy stubble on his jaw. He was tired and jaded, but this meeting was far more important than taking the time to make sure he was presentable.
The president was waiting for him, a small slender figure standing next to the Resolute Desk – white oak and mahogany from what he recalled. "Colonel Freeman? In the circumstances, I can't say I'm pleased to see you. You know what I mean." She turned to the single agent on guard at the side of the room. "Thank you, Michael. You can go; I'll call you when the colonel is ready to leave." She gestured to the sofas in the middle of the room. "Take a seat, Alec; do you mind if I call you that? The mere fact you're here is enough to tell me things are not going well so sit down and give me the bad news."
He sat and told her about Fitzpatrick and his plans for the organisation, and then about FarSight and the changes to the station and finally about Straker's disappearance. It was hard to say the words, to admit that SHADO was facing disaster and the president listened, her face intent and serious, trying to find a way around the almost impossible dilemma they were both facing.
"To be honest we've suspected for some time that Fitzpatrick might have a hidden agenda. He's been pushing for promotion for a while, making friends in high places, greasing the wheels as you might say. We looked into his background, but it just seemed that he was an ambitious guy. You know the sort – long family history of successful career soldiers. My Chief-of-Staff insisted that Fitzpatrick had all the right qualifications for the post of IAC President, and there were no valid objections, especially as the only other person suitable qualified for the post was Commander Straker himself. But we both know he would have hated the promotion, don't you agree?"
"So." Freeman leaned forward. "You're telling me there's no evidence against Fitzpatrick, nothing that ties him to the aliens? Despite Keith Ford's statements."
"Correct. Ford has no absolute proof that Fitzpatrick was contacting the enemy. He just has a record of a rather suspicious transmission which could be anything. And if I step in now, without any definite proof of his treachery, the other superpowers will not support me." She held up one hand to forestall his response. "SHADO is of vital importance to the safety of this world, and I cannot be seen to do anything that would jeopardise its future. It would be seen by the others as if I wanted to take over control of SHADO myself and the ensuing arguments could tear the world apart."
"And leave Earth open to invasion." He winced at the thought.
"Exactly. Which means we have to wait, see if we can find anything that ties him into the aliens. Proof, Alec, I need irrefutable proof. Anything at all. Only then can we act."
"You know you might be risking everything? I don't know what Fitzpatrick's got planned but, whatever it is, it has to happen soon, before it becomes obvious what he's doing."
"Believe me, Alec, I understand. I know the danger. We simply have to hope that Ed Straker; who is undoubtedly in the hands of the aliens even as we speak, that he can hold off long enough to give us chance to find that evidence."
"If Ed gives them the codes, we're finished. You know that, don't you. He won't know that they haven't been disabled. He'll think he can tell them. And he will. Dear God, I know I would, if I was in that situation." Freeman clenched his fist. "You know what they'll do to him, don't you?"
The president leaned forward. "Right now we still have some hope. There is every reason to believe Commander Straker knows about the codes. Helen Peters – one of my senior agents – was staying in the same hotel as Straker, and the other agents stationed there tell me that she disappeared at the same time as he did. If, as I suspect, she has been taken along with him, then she knows about the codes and will have told him.' She looked at Alec Freeman and held his gaze with her own dark brown eyes for a long moment. "Colonel Freeman. Ed Straker is one of the most courageous men I have ever met. He will not break. At least, not straight away. We have some time; hopefully enough time to get the evidence against Fitzpatrick, and then we can act."
Freeman lowered his head inconsolably, his hands clenched tightly together. "But the aliens have Ed. And he won't survive, will he?
She reached out and held Freeman's hands gently in her own. "No, he probably won't. But he'll do his best to make sure Earth survives. That's the one thing that we can be absolutely sure of. Ed Straker won't willingly betray his world." She stood up, aware that the man sitting there was close to tears. "The only advice I can give you, Alec, is that you should go to Moonbase; get to your friends there. Start looking for anything that will help us prove Fitzpatrick's involvement with the aliens. Go back to FarSight if you can get there unseen, but get off Earth. Get somewhere safe. Because if they break Ed Straker, Moonbase may well be our last hope."