Colchester
Lat = 51 degrees, 53.4 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 54.1 minutes East
Tuesday 22nd March 1988
In her brand new Black Ford Sierra Cosworth RS-500, with a two hundred and twenty-four brake horse power two litre engine; the journey from Fleet Street to Colchester took Ruth one and three quarter hours.
She was extremely pleased with being able to grab one of these cars as only five hundred were produced; this was to meet the minimum number of road-going cars required, meeting with approved racing rules, this allowed it to compete in certain motor racing competitions. With a top speed of one hundred and fifty four miles per hour, zero to sixty miles per hour five point eight seconds it was one of the fastest production cars about.
Ruth turned into the Abbey arms car park, locked her car up and entered the pub.
Roger was already seated at the bar knocking a pint of larger back he noticed Ruth and waved her over.
He stood up and offered her a bar stool, he was similar in height to Ruth with close cropped fair hair, his ears were his most striking appearance they stuck out, hence his nick name jugsy, Ruth noticed he was wearing a loose fitting jogging top and pants that belied his physique.
“Had a good journey up?”
“As usual Roger; getting out of London was literally a drag, it makes you wonder where it will all end.”
“What you fancy to drink?”
“A dry martini with lemonade.”
Roger called the barman, “John a dry martini with lemonade and another pint for me.”
“Ice and lemon with the martini,” asked the barman.
Ruth nodded replying “thank you.”
The barman returned with the drinks, “will you be dinning Roger?”
“That’s the idea John; we’ll grab the table in the corner and have a look at what’s on the menu.”
“Okay; order when you’re ready.”
With that roger escorted Ruth to the corner alcove, as ever the gentleman in him he pulled out a chair for Ruth before seating himself.
Ruth had always found Roger’s courtesy a refreshing experience; it seemed all too often that it was a dying trait within the younger generation.
Roger handed Ruth a menu, “I’m buying Ruth.”
“No Roger; I agreed to pay over the phone.”
“Look Ruth; I was only kidding about your expense account, It’s on me.”
“Look Roger a deal is a deal.”
“Here we go again Ruth, that obstinate streak in you is again showing. Why can’t you just once be the lady you are? And let me be the gentleman?”
Ruth had made her way to the top in her profession which was a heavily dominated male one, she had literally had to become as good as if not better than her male rivals and often this became apparent in her social life, she was often looked at as a very insensitive woman, Roger’s words had hit home, “Okay Roger; you can pay no further dispute on the matter.”
Over their meals Ruth had Roger talking about the recent Falklands deployment, she finally got around to the purpose of the visit.
“Roger; what do you know about a Major General Strayker?”
Roger was just about to eat another mouthful as Ruth poised the question he put his utensils down he looked directly into her eyes, “Ruth what sort of question is that; you know I’m tied into the official secrets act.”
“I only want to know what you may know about him, that shouldn’t breach the official secrets act.”
“Okay Ruth; what’s this all about.”
“Just an article I’m involved in.”
“Yea just an article with no real significance, look Ruth I know you; and I’ll bet my month’s paycheck this is major-league.”
“Roger; do you think I would use our friendship to further my career?”
“Quite frankly Ruth; yes, if you want my help stop this bullshit, you tell me everything and I mean everything, and if I’m satisfied I’ll consider your request.”
Ruth looked at Roger; this was a side she had never encountered she paused in thought and sipped her drink, there was a pretty good chance he was aware of this unit and Strayker’s role so what harm could it do.
She looked him directly back into his eyes. “Okay Roger; I’ll give you the truth the whole bloody truth.”
She spent the next ten minutes recounting the firefight in Bromley, following Strayker back to his home and how she had identified him.
Roger listened intently without interrupting he was totally astounded with what Ruth was telling him, but he hid this well from Ruth.
“The news industry has been slapped with a total news blackout Roger, so now I hope you can see my interest.”
Roger picked up his larger and took a good pull on it draining the remaining half pint.
His mind was racing with the thoughts of; how could a British military unit accompanied by a helicopter be involved in a broad daylight firefight with two civilians on British soil?
Roger stood up, “Want another drink Ruth?”
She looked at her half full glass, “no thanks; I would like some answers Roger.”
“I’ll be back in a moment Ruth.”
At the bar he ordered another pint, he was deep in thought; secrets were always difficult to keep and in an organization as big as the British army any secret would eventually come to surface, he had heard rumors of an elite unit being formed and from what Ruth had just told him it would appear to now be a reality.
He was brought out of his thoughts, “here’s your pint Roger; want me to put it on the final bill.”
“Yes; and thanks John.”
He returned to their table and sat down, “I’ve made good on my side of the bargain Roger, now it’s you turn!”
“Okay Ruth; this is nothing you couldn’t find out from any number of legitimate sources, Strayker is well known within our community a decorated hero, he is the equivalent to a boys own hero extremely tough but a fair man, well respected.
He entered the army as an ordinary foot soldier and worked his way through the ranks to where he is now a Major General, which is no mean feat.
I met him once five years ago during the Falklands war, and then he was a captain in the Royal marines.” Roger did a mental calculation in his head, captain to Major general. “That’s four promotions in five years he muttered.”
“What are you muttering Roger?”
“Nothing Ruth; but that’s all I know on Strayker.”
“Okay then, as a Major general what would he be in charge of Roger.”
“Well; technically the rank is a divisional commander, which consists of three or more brigades or regiments.”
“Come on Roger put it into layman’s terms.”
“A division normally consists of between ten to fifteen thousand men.”
“That’s all you know about him Roger?”
“That’s the lot Ruth.”
“What about this unit involved in yesterday firefight.”
“Describe their ‘DCP’; Ruth.”
Ruth gave him an intent look, “you’re doing it again Roger”.
“That’s disruptive camouflage pattern,” Roger replied with a smile.
Ruth closed her eyes; she was a gifted woman with a near photographic memory, whilst her eyes remained closed she described the uniform, “it appeared to be an all in one suit like overalls, and the predominant Colour was a dark slate grey mixed with a pattern of a lighter grey and Grey blue variations, these were in a combination of slashes and jagged disparity. They wore on top what would be some sort of open shoulder military vest with pockets, and a combat helmet also in grey, they were all armed with a short style weapon; probably a machine gun.”
Ruth opened her eyes and looked at Roger, “ring any bells with you?”
Roger didn’t want to lie to Ruth; but this was a unknown design, “It’s not a standard ‘DCP’ design, no unit I know of wears anything like that maybe it’s a new police unit!”
“I don’t think so Roger; remember I was there and when the Police arrived they surrounded the scene including this unit with their weapons drawn, it was like a Mexican standoff. Strayker made a call from a portable phone and a few minutes later the Police holstered their weapons and their helicopter withdrew.”
“Well it’s new one to me Ruth; anyway you will have to comply with the news blackout won’t you?”
“The sanction is no reporting on this confrontation, nothing says I can’t delve into the man and men involved.”
“Well I’m sure you’ll get your story Ruth, how about we book into a hotel for old time’s sake?”
“I’ve got too much on my mind, can I give you a rain check.”
“Okay, you know where to contact me.”
Ruth left Colchester heading back to Fleet Street, with her mind buzzing with questions.