‘ICIS’ Saltbox Hill Biggin Hill Kent
Lat = 51 degrees, 19.7 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 1.2 minutes East
Wednesday 23rd March 1988
Ruth woke up with a spliting headache her vision was initially blurred and her kneck felt like she had been kicked by a horse; as she lay on the bed she looked a-round and found herself in a room about twelve feet square painted in a grey coloured paint, containing a wash basin and toilet facility, there was a single door with a sliding hatch, the wall opposite her had a large mirror, she cursed herself, “bloody hell I’m in jail,”
Max was observing her via a Closed Circuit Television link to a monitor, he was reading her antecedent’s that one of the team had collated from there data base, along with a coloured photo of her.
Ruth Nelson; single age twenty-five, lives with her parents at 10, Nelmes Way, Emerson park, Hornchurch near Romford.
Parents names; Duncan and Susan Nelson, both teachers; Ruth is their only child.
Education; Raphael Independent School Hornchurch, left school at seventeen years of age with nine ‘A’ levels.
Took a post-graduate journalism course with the The National Council for the Training of Journalists.
Current job placement for five years.
Hobbies; horse riding, swimming, and clay pidgeon shooting.
Journalism assignments; mainly high profile news issues has a tenacity to seek and report the truth.
Max looked away from the file and at Ruth Nelson whom was regaining conciousness, he found her attractive and having just read her file he respected her in a professional way.
Strayker walked over to him; “do you want to handle the interview with her?”
Max nodded and both men walked to the adjoining room to Ruth’s cell, they stood on the other side of the two-way mirror; Max picked up a microphone and flipped a switch.
“What are you looking for?”
Ruth was startled by the sudden question with a distorted tone.
She looked at the mirror and quickly realised it was probably two-way she bent down and removed one of her high heeled shoes; strode across to it and struck the mirror with her heel, the shoe rebounded back and out of her grip without leaving a mark on the mirrored surface.
Ruth looked directly into the mirror, “You can’t keep me here! Iv’e done nothing wrong.”
“ballsey girl,” Strayker remarked.
The voice replied, “I’ll be the judge of that, I know who and what you are; now answer the question; what are you looking for?”
“I know my right’s; I want a my phone call.”
“Sorry; but you are know now under the Military Special Operations Executive Powers Act 1987; your civilian right’s mean zilch here.”
Upon Strayker’s new unit evolving, a new law had been forced through parliament, the Military Special Operations Executive Powers Act 1987; this was directly relevant to Strayker’s sphere of operations, giving him the power over life and death, incarceration or freedom.
In order to ascertain information from suspects in any enquiry being pursued by Strayker and his unit, there had never before been an Act of Parliament giving this much power to anyone in the United Kingdom.
There was never going to be a judicial process or court case in these spheres of operations.
A sudden icy chill crept into Ruth’s flesh she screamed at the mirror, “you bastard, you’ll pay for this,” she returned to the bed and sat down she placed her head down in her hands and became aware of the pain from her neck.
The voice spoke again, “I’ll give you ten minutes to have a rethink and hopefully you’ll cooperate with me.”
Max flicked the switch off.
Strayker spoke, “She’s scared Max,”
“Can you blame her sir, I think a one on one will help establish a healthier dialogue with her.”
“I think we can resolve this issue to our advantage Max!”
Strayker spoke to Max for a minute about his idea.
The nearby phone rang, Stryaker picked it up and listened for a moment before putting it down.
“The provost marshall wants me to ring him.”
“News on Brigadier Dawson?”
“Stands a good chance Max.”