The Arctic Tradition

By A. Machin Taylor

Susan Collis & her colleague Jess Turner are employed by the Ministry of Defence in London. They are sent to Sweden ostensibly to advise on the training of female recruits. Due to the duplicity of MI6 they are not warned that the training camp where they are to be based appears to be a source of illegal arms for terrorists. However they receive a warning of the dangers that they face, from an anonymous source in Sweden. The information they receive not only saves their lives but enables them to close the source of the illegal arms. How the arms were getting from Sweden to the terrorists proves to be a much more intractable problem; which they solve but only with the aid of the combined efforts of GCHQ and MI5. The disappearance of their anonymous source leads them back to Sweden and unexpectedly back into the criminal organization that was involved in the illegal weapons trade. The matter is resolved by their locating the mysterious source which then provides an unexpected bonus for British Intelligence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9780244301934

Book preview

The Arctic Tradition

THE ARCTIC TRADITION

By

A. Machin Taylor

Other novels by this author:

‘The Female of the Species’

published in paperback 2014

‘A Russian Rendezvous’

published in paperback 2015

‘A Highland Affair’

published in paperback 2015

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Alan_Machin_Taylor

Copyright

Copyright © A Machin-Taylor

Category: Fiction

eBook Design by Rossendale Books: www.rossendalebooks.co.uk

eBook ISBN:  978-0-244-30193-4

Front cover image © www.shutterstock.com

All rights reserved, Copyright under Berne Copyright Convention and Pan American Convention. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. The author’s moral rights have been asserted.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organisations, events or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

Donna Moore my editor whose advice and suggestions has been invaluable.

Jess Duncan, June Dromgoole, and Jan Taylor for advice and comments and encouragement.

The late Stieg Larsson whose Millenium Trilogy motivated me to write a novel set in Sweden.

Prologue

The door of the helicopter opened and the Norwegian pilot pulled Susan and Jess on board. Another smiling face appeared, I’m Major Parnevik, I’m in charge of the Nastrask airbase. The door slammed shut and the chopper lifted off; almost immediately they heard several hammer blows on the side of the aircraft. What the… God dammit...We’re taking hits from small arms fire! What the hell have you two stirred up down there? Parnevik asked. The chopper jinked sharply to the right and dropped until it was flying down a firebreak below the tops of the trees. At the same time Parnevik could be heard shouting orders over the radio.

Jess smiled. I don’t think Parnevik’s very happy, by the sound of it.

Susan growled, I don’t know about you, Jess, but I wouldn’t be happy being shot at by my own side, either.

Chapter 1

(Four weeks earlier)

As Susan walked into her office she could see that her terminal had been switched off.  Does anyone know what’s happened to the system? My terminal’s dead.

The network’s down for maintenance; it’ll be back up in an hour or so, they say. You can use a laptop if you don’t need the network.

I can’t wait while the computer junkies finish fiddling with the system.  Susan took her laptop out of her drawer, logged on and started to work through her emails. Other than the usual departmental junk there was also one from her close friend and colleague, Jess Turner. ‘Just about finished here; I have to call in at MOD Morwenstow for a couple of days, should be back in the office later next week. See ya! Jess.’

Once the system was back up and running, Susan shut the lid of her laptop and put it to one side without closing it down and carried on working on her office computer until it was nearing five o’clock. Seeing the laptop still on her desk, she opened it to shut it down before putting it away. To her surprise it opened with the blue screen pre-boot menu:-

Start in safe mode

Battery low

Your mission in Sweden is intended to fail

You are not wanted. Be very careful. E

Press f7 to acknowledge receipt of message

Susan didn’t press f7 instead; she simply closed the lid, pushed her chair back and closed her eyes. She had absolutely no plans to visit Sweden, let alone on any mission. Who was it that didn’t want her there? And who was this E who was so concerned about her safety? What was it she had to be careful about? There were far too many unanswered questions. Deciding to sleep on it, she put her laptop into her drawer and went home.

******

The next morning, Susan’s curiosity overcame her and she took her laptop out of her desk even before she had removed her coat. She cautiously opened the lid. The message was still there. Her finger hovered over the f7 key. Was this some sort of bizarre computer virus? Well, if it was, she would soon find out. She stabbed at the key in annoyance. The message just faded away as she watched and the normal Windows starting screen opened. Before she could think about the implications of this, she was summoned to see Len Allport, her section head at the Ministry of Defence. Normally it would only be for her monthly report meeting or her annual appraisal that she would be sitting in his office on the 5th floor. This was something different, something out of the ordinary had occurred.

He sat in silence for a few moments, twirling his gold Cross pen through his fingers as he considered her. You have a fan club.

Do I? What have I done?

As I said, you appear to have a fan club.

Oh yes; then who and why?

At the last Territorial Army exercise at Sennybridge you may remember there were a number of VIP observers. They included several senior members of the Swedish Ministry of Defence.

Susan didn’t recall any VIP observers. If there were, we were never introduced.

Well that’s as it may be, they were...and I quote..., ‘very impressed by your performance on that exercise.’ They’ve requested that you go over to Sweden to discuss training and possible operations for their Women’s Special Operations Service.

Sweden again. What’s that when it’s at home?

They’re setting up an all-female version of the SAS.

That’s the most stupid idea I’ve heard in years.

Allport cleared his throat as if to hide a laugh and continued to fix her with his steady gaze.

With due respect, sir, that’s an absurd proposal. 

Why?

To even think that an all-female unit could tackle the sort of operation mounted by the SAS is ridiculous. 

He smiled, wryly, How so? You and Jess seem to do quite well on that front.

"What Jess and I do is different. We have the advantage - the big advantage - that we don’t look like soldiers. To be able to tackle an SAS operation you would need to look like the SAS. If a woman could do that she would look just like a Hereford Gorilla, and lose the advantage of surprise."

Well, be that as it may, that’s what they want; it’s up to them to decide.

It’s some inane sex equality thing; they’re bonkers on that in Sweden.

Bonkers they may be but the fact remains that the Swedes give us great facilities for Arctic warfare training. Therefore you and Jess will go to Sweden to give them the benefit of your considerable wisdom and experience.

Allport had clearly made up his mind and Susan could almost see his efficient brain ticking a box before turning to the next item on his agenda. She, however, remained unconvinced. I still think it’s a crap idea, Sir.

Allport chose not to hear. Let’s aim for the end of April. Jess will be back from her assignment at the Port Isaac Electronics Base by then. Your current project should be finished and it will give the Swedes time to organise a training schedule. I’ll give them your email address so that you can liaise directly. They can let you know what they want to cover and you can give them the details of any special requirements.

Susan returned to her office to reduce the pile of reports that she was supposed to read. However, her mind kept wandering to the strange coincidence of the message on her laptop warning her of an assignment in Sweden that she knew nothing about; followed the very next day by news of an assignment in Sweden.

The phone rang just as she was putting on her coat to leave for the day. It was Jess. I’ve just received the instructions about Sweden. I’ll be back late next week, probably Thursday. We can discuss what we’re supposed to be doing over there. What do you know about Sweden?

Absolutely nothing, I’ve never been.

Jess laughed. I meant about what we’re supposed to be doing over there.

Likewise nothing; except that they apparently want to form an all women SAS.

That’s what I was told. I asked why but I didn’t get an answer. Oops, got to go. Let’s talk about it next week.

Susan put the phone down and sat back in her chair. Why would an efficient, modern army like the Swedes need their services to set up a training programme for a female unit? If they wanted equality why not just use the same training schedules as the regular army?

She went back up to her boss’s office, knocked and walked in.

Len Allport looked up from the report he was reading, Yes, Susan?

Can you tell me who passed the request from Sweden to us? I thought that maybe they could tell us more about the Swedish requirements. When Len didn’t answer, Susan continued, Well, did the request come to us directly from Sweden?

No. The request for your services came through the Foreign Office.

Anyone in particular?

Not really, I can’t remember his name but he said that he’d send a memo to confirm the request. It hasn’t arrived as yet.

Susan wondered why Allport was being so damned evasive. She would have to get answers through a different route. If the request had come through the normal channel, then the quickest way to get the details would be to contact the Embassy in Stockholm. Back in her office she called the Embassy. This is Susan Collis at the MOD in London. Could you put me through to the Military Attaché, please.

I’m sorry. Mr Harding is away on leave. Can anyone else help? I could put you through to Chancery. Maybe they could help.

Once through to Chancery, Susan introduced herself again and explained her problem. A thoughtful voice on the other end of the phone heard her out then said, Collis. Susan Collis? Was your father in the army, based in Scotland?

Yes, he was based at Fort George for a while. I was born in Scotland. 

I served with your father and I rather think that I met you when you were about two. What can I do for you?

We’ve received a request via the Foreign Office to supply some training to female members of the Swedish Army. We need to know the name of whoever in Sweden made the request and, if possible, the name of the person in the Foreign Office who received the information.

Hold on, I’ll check the log for you and call you back. No... better if you call me here. About half an hour should do it.

When Susan called back, her new friend was apologetic. I’m sorry, we can’t help you. We’ve received no formal communication from the Swedish Military or Defence Ministry apropos of training. As far as I can see there has been no communication with the Foreign Office on the subject.

Curiouser and curiouser, Well, thanks for trying. I’ll have to have a rethink.

The next morning Susan sat at her desk, awaiting the arrival of Jess, with a cup of coffee and the Times crossword to while away the time. She had already opened up her emails on her desktop terminal, skimming over the departmental junk and focusing on two from Sweden.

‘Please let me know your flight details and arrival time at Arlanda. You will be met airside, and won’t go through immigration or customs. We will have a SAF ferry plane to take you to Umea and someone will meet you to take you to the base at Nastrask. Major Anders Marklund’

The second email read:-

‘This is the schedule for the first week. Description of past operations. Explanation and discussion. Aims and objectives. Skill requirements and training. Regards, Marklund.’

Efficient, brisk and to the point. 

Her mind kept returning to the emails as she filled in the crossword and she put her pen down with a sigh. What she needed was answers. She called Sennybridge camp. What’s the name of your adjutant and how long’s he been stationed at Sennybridge?

The man who answered the phone was unfazed by her abrupt tone. That’s Major Macpherson and he’s been here at least five years because he was here before I arrived.

Could you put me through please?

After waiting a few minutes she heard a grunted, Macpherson here. Who’s that?

This is Captain Collis at the MOD in Whitehall. When we were at Sennybridge for our TA exercise last year there were some observers from Sweden. Could you tell me their names; I need to contact one of them about our return visit to Sweden.

What dates were you here?

October 5th to 16th.

Hold on, I’ll check the log.

Susan could hear parts of a muffled conversation as she waited. Eventually, the Major returned to the phone. I’m sorry, you must be mistaken. We didn’t have any visitors while you were here. In fact, we haven’t had any visitors from Sweden for over two years.

I’m sorry, I must have misheard. Sorry to trouble you. Susan put the phone down and swore under her breath. What the hell was going on? Someone appeared to be messing her about.

Further thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a bedraggled Jess. Susan looked at the clock; five past ten. They had decided not to meet too early as Jess had had a long drive from Cornwall the previous evening. She came into Susan’s office like a whirlwind. I need a coffee. Have you any biscuits? I haven’t had breakfast.  Susan passed her a mug of coffee which Jess sat nursing until it cooled. So, she said, finally taking a sip and relaxing back in her chair. What’s the news?

There’s something funny going on with this job in Sweden.

Jess raised her eyebrows, Funny in what way?

I’ve received a message on my laptop warning us not to go to Sweden. So what do you make of that?

Jess just frowned, Nothing. I’m crap with computers. Today?

No. I haven’t checked my laptop today. Let’s have a look. She unlocked her desk drawer and took out the laptop.  As before it opened with the blue screen, the pre-boot message being:-

Start in safe mode

Bring this hardware to Sweden

Press f7 to acknowledge

Look, Jess. Come and see this.

Jess came to Susan’s side of the desk and read the message over her shoulder. OK, so what does that all mean? What’s the problem?

"The problem is that I’ve no idea what it means, and what’s more I’ve no idea how someone knows we’re going to Sweden. More to the point; is that they actually knew before we did."

Well, don’t look at me. Nobody tells me anything. Have you acknowledged it as it says? 

No.

Well I don’t see any harm in pressing f7.

As before, as soon as she pressed the f7 key the message just faded away as they watched and the normal Windows starting screen opened.

You know, Jess, I’m getting bad vibes about this job. According to Len he received a request from the Foreign Office but says he doesn’t know the name of the person making the request. When I rang the Embassy in Stockholm they had no record of any such request. There’s a hidden agenda here but I’m damned if I can see what it might be.

Jess shrugged her shoulders in a Don’t expect any answers from me fashion.

Susan stood up. I’m going to have another go at Len.

Len’s door was open so she walked straight in. Given his previous reluctance to tell her anything, she knew she would need to go about this in a roundabout way. Excuse me, Sir. I need your advice. The Swedes have suggested that we have a discussion and analysis of some past operations. If they want a description of past operations, I’ll need to get clearance to disclose anything.

So, what’s the problem?

The problem is that it’s a great excuse for them to start asking questions about operations that we would rather not admit to, or acknowledge our involvement in.

Well, you’ll have to make something up.

Have we had any operations that might have affected Swedish interests in the past?

Len shook his head. Not as far as I know. I think you’re worrying unnecessarily.

I’m worrying that if I let slip some big secret my head will be on the chopping block.

Of course, that’s why you’re paid so much.

Susan went back to her office, slammed the door and kicked the waste bin. Jess grinned. So, I take it that you didn’t get any help from the boss?

No. I can’t make out if he’s lying or just being obtuse.

Jess replied, Maybe he just can’t be bothered with a bunch of women playing at being soldiers.

Most of the more exciting operations in our past have been deniable, never took place or highly confidential. I may have to make up some fictitious missions to get over the problem.

Jess stood frowning and then said, Why don’t you ask Major Cunliffe at Hereford what he’d suggest? They have some great training manuals.

Jess, that’s one of your better ideas.

After five minutes of being passed from one office to another she eventually got through. This is Captain Collis at the MOD may I speak to Major Cunliffe please?

I’m sorry; he’s out on exercise at present. He won’t be back until three.

Susan looked at her watch. It’s after that now.

No, I meant O-three hundred hours tomorrow morning. Can anyone else help you?

Susan pondered, No, I don’t think so. Could you please ask him to call me when he gets back?

The voice of the man on the other end relaxed and Susan could hear a smile as he answered her. I’ll do better than that. Tom Cunliffe is, at present, sitting in a tent on the top of Fforest Fawr, in a howling gale, testing two recruits on communication procedures. I’ll get him to call you; he’ll be delighted to do anything to relieve the boredom.

When the call came through, Susan struggled to hear anything. Is that a jet engine I can hear? 

No, we have a slight breeze just at present, a force ten breeze! What can I do for you?

Susan explained the position she was in. I’ve been invited to Sweden to talk to some female recruits about Special Operations. Obviously I can’t talk about any actual operations but Jess Turner tells me that you have a training manual with fifteen or so fictional operations that you use for the same purpose. I’d be grateful if you would send a copy up to Department Fourteen, MOD Whitehall.

OK, I can do that as soon as I get back tomorrow. Whereabouts are you going to in Sweden?

I haven’t been told yet why do you ask?

We have joint exercises with the Swedish and Norwegian Special forces but they’re always in the north of the country. We keep well out of sight.

******

Jess appeared at Susan’s office door, a disgruntled look on her face. Susan sat back in her chair. "And where have you been all morning?"

I thought I’d have a go at the boss to see if I could get more out of him.

So?

Jess plonked herself down in a chair and took a thirsty swallow from Susan’s coffee mug. All he said was that I should discuss it with you. He then spent the next hour telling me of his holidays at Port Isaac when he was a child. He told me that he’s planning to buy a house down there now they’ve stopped making the nasty stuff at Nancekuke.

What nasty stuff?

They used to make some extremely toxic poison gases for use at Porton Down. They stopped years ago but there are still parts of the base off limits because of residual poisons in the soil.

Susan firmly took her coffee mug back from Jess.  Charming; what a lovely place for a holiday home.

Jess sighed. Anyway, my asking was pointless. What about you? Did you get anything from Hereford?

"Yep. They’re sending us a copy of that manual but the most interesting bit of information came from Sennybridge. There were no Swedish visitors while we were there last year."

So what?

So what Jess. It means that we’re being led up the garden path. For what reason, I don’t know. I will find out though.

How?

Susan shrugged. I don’t know and right now, what I really want to find out is who’s sending messages to my laptop and how do they know we’re going to Sweden?

Why don’t you ask one of the experts in IT what’s going on, if it’s a virus you need to have it cleaned.

I’m not letting anyone in IT near this machine. They’d say it’s a security risk and confiscate it. Besides, it can’t be a security risk because it can’t access the network; with this machine I have to log in as an external, which limits its access to non-restricted files.

Jess rolled her eyes, exasperated. Susan, stop fussing over your clapped-out laptop. I’m more concerned about what we’re supposed to be doing in Sweden and what equipment we need to take with us. I assume we’ll be on the ranges at some point.  Should we take our own weapons?

I think we’ll have to. I’m sure they could find a Glock for me but I doubt if they’ll have a Skorpion for you.

.

Susan pulled over a notepad and pen. I think we’ll take our own mobile telecoms; if we used their radios they’d listen in, that’s for sure.

"Mmmmmm. We should take everything; if we’re limited to what equipment they have available, it would be difficult for us to demonstrate how we work and they could anticipate our modus operandi."

Susan snorted. "Modus operandi, indeed. That’s Latin, and it was me not you who went to Oxford. Anyway, it should be modus operandum."

"Rubbish, you may only do your modus once but I’m going to modus lots. Besides, it’s time for lunch and while you show off your Latin, I’m fainting with hunger."

They sat quietly over lunch for a while. In between mouthfuls Susan asked, What were you doing in Cornwall that took so long? I thought you were only going for a few days?

I think I’ll take three mobiles to use with our remote detonators plus a bit of plastic to give some zest to a stun grenade.

Susan laughed. Apparently, Jess wasn’t interested in answering her question. OK, Jess, have it your way. You sort out the equipment - get it crated and arrange shipment to Sweden. Put a tamperproof seal on it, even though it will go by our own transport. I don’t want anyone looking inside to see what we’re taking, something might go astray.

So, while I’m being quartermaster, what will you be doing?

Thinking about what personal kit to take. The problem is Sweden’s latitude, it stretches from the sunny south to the frozen stiff Arctic and so far we’ve no idea where we’re going.

Hasn’t the boss said anything?

Nothing, and, to be honest, my current opinion is that if he said Arctic I’d take jungle kit. Susan took a last bite of her lunch and threw her napkin on the table. I think I’ll try to get more info from Anders Marklund.

Back at her desk, Susan opened Marklund’s email and replied. ‘Re our visit to Sweden. Why were we asked? Is there anything special that we need to bring with us? I would like to discuss the details with someone. Best regards, Susan Collis’

She awaited a reply in vain. Two hours later she received a message which at once raised more questions than answers. ‘Message undeliverable. Recipient unknown at this address.’

Chapter 2

Susan was awakened from her thoughts by the phone ringing, Susan, this is reception. Can you pick up a secure line; there’s a call for you from someone at MI6.

OK, I’ll take it in 238.

When she picked up the phone a tinny voice asked, Is that Collis?

It might be; who’s calling?

It doesn’t matter who I am, I’ve a--

I’m sorry I don’t take nuisance calls, particularly on a secure line. If you want to talk to me, leave your name and phone number with our switchboard. We’ll call you back after we’ve checked who you are. With that, Susan put the phone back in its cradle.

Minutes later, her phone rang. Susan, this is Len. You’ve just slammed the phone down on a senior member of MI6. Why?

How did I know who he was? He wouldn’t give his name.

There was a sigh at the other end of the phone. You knew he was from MI6.

Susan tried to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe, but they’re reputed to have as many people working for the Reds as they have working for us. I’m not prepared to discuss anything confidential if I don’t know who I’m speaking to.

They’re very security conscious these days.

"It’s a pity they weren’t in the past! Maybe they do need to be security conscious, but that’s not the reason. They’re like schoolboys in their little secret society. You and I are Allport and Collis of the MOD, but they’re nameless because they’re important."

"Well, if you must know, it was James Bradbury who called you and he’s head of MI6