Sentinel: Voyager Trilogy, #2

By Carl Rackman

The Voyager story continues...

Four years have passed since Voyager One sent back chilling photos of a spaceship from deep in interstellar space.

 

A shocked world prepared to meet the Visitors, but terrorism, pandemics, and global political turmoil have now consumed it. Discredited as a hoax, the Visitors have faded from public attention.

 

But the powerful global conspiracy known as the Triumvirate is behind much of the chaos. Creating a screen of subterfuge and misdirection, they prepare a clandestine welcome for the Visitors, whose origins may be more sinister than the aliens of popular fiction. Standing in their way are the few brave men and women who foiled the Triumvirate's last attempt to upset the world's fragile balance of power:

 

Former FBI agent Brad Barnes leads Sentinel, a private intelligence and counter-terrorism operation founded in the wake of the Triumvirate's last deadly plot.

Alex Ephraim – the former Triumvirate assassin known as Mirage – is Sentinel's major weapon against terror.

Matt Ramprakash, former airline pilot and now an officer of the British intelligence agency MI5, is embroiled in a deadly standoff when an airliner is hijacked.

Callie Woolf, once the project manager of the Voyager mission, struggles against the sceptical government's bureaucracy to continue the search for the elusive Visitors as her time and funding runs out.

 

Sentinel is the only organisation capable of taking the fight to the Triumvirate's door – flexible, unorthodox well-funded and free of government red tape.

But as they pursue the Triumvirate from the streets of London to the wild, deadly wastes of Antarctica, Brad will need Matt and Callie's help to stop the Triumvirate, which has its own plans for putting Sentinel – and especially Alex – out of the picture for good…

 

Sentinel is the pulse-pounding second instalment in the Voyager trilogy by Carl Rackman

 

Praise for Carl Rackman's Voyager:

'This tautly constructed suspense novel kept me turning the pages' – RA Book Review Team

'Carl Rackman has done it again.' – Between The Lines Book Review

'Keeps you reading non stop enraptured' – Odysseus, Amazon reviewer

'Voyager is a modern suspense thriller with unexpected twists that keep you guessing and engaged to the end.' – Baldrick, Amazon reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carl Rackman
• Release date: Sep 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9798224912681

Carl Rackman

Hi! I'm Carl Rackman, a British former airline pilot turned author. I spent my working life travelling the world and this has given me a keen interest in other people and cultures. I've drawn on my many experiences for my writing. I write suspense thrillers with a grounded science-fiction theme. I like reading novels that feature atmospheric locales and I enjoy complex, absorbing storylines combined with rich, believable characters, so that's the sort of fiction I write. I try to create immersive worlds for the reader to explore, and characters who are more than just vehicles for the story. I come from a naval military background and have held a lifelong interest in military history and seafaring - all my books usually contain some of these elements! I hope you'll enjoy my books and leave reviews. I try to personally thank reviewers if they've particularly enjoyed my books. Find out more about me, my writing and my upcoming books at rackmanbooks.com. You can usually find me on Twitter - @CarlRackman - I'd love to link up with you as followers. Thanks for looking, Carl

Book preview

Crisis Inbound

Security Service Headquarters, Thames House, London

Wednesday 14th October

0922 hours

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Matt Ramprakash was not a happy man.

He tried to slam down the phone but it was one of those upright Cisco things and the receiver just slipped off the hook and clattered to his desk. He was about to hurl it across the office when he remembered that spooks are supposed to be calm under pressure.

Of course, that was a load of crap. Only on the upper floor of the South Wing was the stress level manageable, because trouble rolled off the sloping shoulders of the mighty and flowed downhill. Here on Floor One of the North Wing, the pressure was intense.

He redialled his researcher in Cyber to see if they’d tapped any more info on the latest scare that was rolling across the security services. Matt’s head was on the block for this one. As a middle-grade operations officer in MI5’s TRANSEC (Aviation) section, an inbound hijacked airliner was burning in his lap and senior officers expected his presentation within fifteen minutes. He had to rapidly assimilate a mountain of incoming reports and work out what was happening, so that resources could be assigned and marshalled.

The phone rang four times before it was snatched up at the other end. Shah.

Ricky Shah was a twenty-two-year-old computer statistical analyst who hopefully was working to save Matt’s short career as a baby spook.

Ricky, where’s the report from Agent Manta? I haven’t received the dossier yet! Matt tried to treat the young analyst with respect but the stress was too much. His voice was tight and the words came out rapid-fire.

The younger man sounded as exasperated as Matt. I sent them up about thirty seconds ago, blood. You also got a dossier on AQIS hijack capabilities – it’s six days old but still current, yeah? The other file you wanted is on the shared server. I’m doing what you’re asking, Boss. You just need to look in the right place and stop hassling me, yeah? The youngster’s language was a strange multiracial mix of street patois and slang which usually made Matt laugh. But not today.

The spooks still spoke of dossiers and reports as if they were the musty manila files of old. Everything now was encrypted PDF files, painstakingly scanned and reformatted from literally tons of documents that languished in hidden corners of the country. The originals lay buried in the cellars and upstairs bedrooms of nondescript terraced houses in London or in secret tunnels and bunkers in a dozen provincial cities. Now, the wealth of Britain’s intelligence lay in data stores in places like Doncaster and Newport Pagnell, accessible by multiple encrypted keys that ran to 256 bits. MI5 operators could access much of it at will, but certain information stores were locked to specific machines which were only accessible by KIPs – ‘key identified personnel’. Unbelievably, the feckless computer nerds like Ricky Shah were KIPs while mere junior intelligence officers like Matt had to access much of his information through the geeks. It was a necessary evil. The days when KGB agents had to physically access MI5 headquarters to covertly photograph documents were long gone – now all they needed was an internet connection and a powerful decryption algorithm; their only headache was finding an access point.

He checked his watch for the twentieth time in the past minute – an irritating habit he found hard to shake off when he was under pressure. He dragged several document clusters into a central processing window where he was able to arrange them by time and priority before skim- reading them. He had about ten minutes before the phone started buzzing from the Gods of Olympus who lived upstairs.

He rapidly collated the relevant information and began pasting it into a Word document, typing up a summary as he went.

Situation: A British-registered Boeing 777 inbound from Delhi was reported hijacked by unknown persons. The report came from a member of the flight crew at 0541 UTC to Turkish air traffic control in the vicinity of Ankara. As of 0925 this morning the aircraft is under foreign military escort in contact with German military controllers in the vicinity of Aachen.

Exploitation: No threats or demands have been made by the hijackers. No public or covert statements have been made by any credible source regarding responsibility. The flight crew are in control of the aircraft and in open communication. The flight deck has not been breached but the hijackers are reported to be armed and holding hostages in the aircraft cabin.

The aircraft is proceeding inbound to its original destination of London Heathrow. UK CAA and DfT security planners have assigned a remote holding position over the North Sea pending a security plan to be agreed at COBRA level.

Background: Contacts in Indian intelligence have been aware of possible high-profile action against Western interests by Al Qaeda in the Indian Subcontinent (AQIS). A group loyal to Asim Umar has been active in the Kashmir region and moved a cell to Agra eight days ago. Indian and Pakistani intelligence do not believe the cell is capable of a concentrated attack on a British transport aircraft at this time.

The absence of a coordinated assault of the flight deck and the passive response to negotiation attempts leaves open the possibility that the hijackers may be criminals or asylum seekers.

Assets: Agent MANTA is embedded with a private security consultancy employed by the airline at London Heathrow. MANTA can provide near-real-time information from the airline security office.

Agent BISCAYNE is a security response manager at London Stansted Airport. It is likely Stansted will be the destination of the aircraft if it is permitted to land.

Recommendation:

Matt stopped typing and racked his brain. He’d been a pilot for ten years before his life was turned upside down by the Voyager conspiracy four years before. He knew how stressed the guys flying the airliner would be. Concerned about the safety of their crew and passengers, they would want to get the aircraft on the ground to make it accessible to the security forces.

On the other hand, the hijackers were playing the silent game. Their motives and identity were completely unknown. Their potential actions could range from melting anonymously back among the passengers and claiming asylum to blowing up the aircraft and anyone on it. The only benefit at this point was that the pilots were in control and the flight deck hadn’t been breached.

So, what to recommend?

The phone buzzed on his desk. Patricia Conway. Matt’s boss.

He snatched it up immediately. Matt Ramprakash.

Are you ready? Conway was full of her usual warmth, as ever.

One more report to include. I’ll be up in three minutes.

We’re waiting. She hung up.

Matt put the receiver back on the cradle and held it there for a second. He poised his fingers over the keyboard and rapidly read through what he’d gleaned so far. Okay. Let’s make Conway squirm. He typed.

Recommendation: The aircraft is British, under pilot control and current intelligence indicates the threat is confined to the passenger cabin.

The aircraft should be admitted to the UK under standard hijack protocol and handed over to multi-agency security forces at London Stansted. Security plan must prioritise passenger safety.

Identification of the hijackers to determine their motivation, affiliation and demands is the priority of this Department. Further exploitation of the situation must be subject to negotiation based on confirmation of their intentions.

Agent MANTA should relocate to the receiving point at London Stansted. Agent BISCAYNE will be ready to report due to their position of authority at the location.

He ran the spellchecker once and hit Print. Five copies. He swept up the sheaf of notes he’d made and grabbed the printed sheets off the printer. He checked nothing was left behind, then hurried to the stairs. There was a lift, but it was slow and he needed the exercise. Although he was now married to an older woman, she was in much better shape than him and he needed to keep up.

He made the three flights of stairs without difficulty and emerged onto the hallowed ground of the senior civil servants of Olympus. He saw Conway and her disciples through the glass window of the conference room. When he tapped on the door, it was Conway herself who opened it. He caught a whiff of her old-lady perfume and saw the powder residue around the folds of skin around her mouth. She was only fifty-six but looked older than his mum.

Let’s begin, shall we? Matt, where are we with this situation?

He handed out the reports and allowed the bigwigs a couple of minutes to digest it. When they all finally looked up, he explained the process he’d used to collect the information and waited for their questions.

How have they tried to contact the hijackers? One of the senior managers opened the questioning. He was a grey, middle-aged white man named Bradshaw.

Matt didn’t need to consult his notes but he made a show of it. The Security Service mandarins were sticklers for accuracy. Part of it was thoroughness. The rest was down to arse-covering and the paranoia of looking bad in front of the other agencies, especially SIS. The Secret Intelligence Service, known as MI6, was the Foreign Office equivalent of the Home Office’s MI5, and they held each other in mutual contempt. If the Americans were referred to among MI5 staff as The Cousins, there was no such accommodation made for their rivals in SIS. They were simply The Enemy.

British negotiators have been communicating with the flight crew via satphone. They’ve been relaying calls to the hijackers in the cabin. It’s laborious but the only means of direct communication because the hijackers have not breached the flight deck.

What’s the outcome so far? Bradshaw again.

Matt shuffled his notes. The hijackers haven’t revealed their demands, affiliation or intentions. They do not appear to have a designated leader – according to the flight crew, the calls were taken by three distinct individuals. All repeated the same words: ‘We have taken control of this aircraft. We wish to land in London.’ That’s all.

Conway laid Matt’s report on the table in front of her. That’s not much to go on.

Matt nodded. We can’t make them talk to us. That’s why I recommend we bring them in.

What are our sources saying?

Manta says the airline is very keen to resolve the situation on the ground. They’re relieved the pilots still have control but they’re worried about the possible consequences for the passengers and cabin crew. They think the hijackers may begin harming them if they can’t gain access to the flight deck. But the pilots aren’t aware of any violence, and the hijackers haven’t made any attempt to gain access to the flight deck. They haven’t even called. All the communication so far has been initiated by the pilots.

There was some shuffling around the table. One of the other women, whom Matt didn’t recognise, spoke without looking up.

It doesn’t fit the usual AQ agenda. Have there been any statements by the usual AQ players?

This time Matt did have to check his notes. An Iranian news affiliate received a claim of responsibility from an AQ cell in Afghanistan but Pakistani military intelligence say it isn’t credible. There have been no claims from credible AQ or IS sources. He checked his watch again and silently kicked himself for doing it.

Conway took it as an ill-considered hint, as he suspected she would. We won’t be rushed into any decisions, Matt. Their silence is extremely problematic.

Yes, Patricia, I understand that. At times like this, Matt found the forced familiarity of first names ridiculous. It worked much better when he’d been an airline pilot because the captain and co-pilot always worked towards the same goal with the same agenda regardless of seniority. Here in the Security Service, you never knew from one day to the next whose agenda you were working for.

What about Cyber? Any traffic or data hinting at a threat to aviation from the Subcontinent?

Matt shook his head. SIS obtained a package of data from one of the leading Kashmiri terror groups two weeks ago. There was nothing even remotely connected to a move like this. They couldn’t have staged a major hijack so quickly.

When does the plane reach British airspace? The unknown woman spoke again.

The aircraft will transfer to the UK air traffic system at 1015. He resisted the urge to look at his watch.

What about our European allies? Have they tried to intervene while it was in transit? The last person to speak was the oldest. The Hon Maurice Elliott, OBE, was the final relic of the Cold War era at the Service, clinging to life at MI5 despite being well beyond the usual Civil Service retirement age. That it had everything to do with his two ex-wives and current spendthrift paramour made him an object of scorn and pity in equal measures.

As you can imagine, they are expediting the problem through their airspace without further involvement.

There was silence around the table. The recent Voyager conspiracy, attributed to a shadow group known as the Triumvirate, had caused repercussions throughout the covert world and led the overstretched intelligence agencies of Europe and America to re-examine their recent problems with far-right and Islamist terrorism. Yet, the British Government had pressed blindly ahead with leaving the European Union, even though the Triumvirate’s hand in the process was obvious. The legal framework for intelligence sharing had ended along with the trade treaties. EU countries had become reticent about sharing information without legal treaties in place. Britain’s tenuous hold on its NATO membership provided the only regular flow of intelligence sharing. The feelings around the table reflected the Department’s frustration with its own masters.

Conway stood up from the table and walked over to the window. The sun was bright over London, an uncharacteristic break in the usual unremitting grey of the British autumn.

Matt dared to chivvy the committee along. We need to recommend a decision before the flight reaches our airspace. DfT Security will want to divert it to London Stansted. MoD are making noises about mobilising a response team. And of course, Special Branch and the Met CT Squad are already shaking the trees to see if any of this is connected to domestic terror cells.

Conway pursed her lips. We don’t know who they are, what they want or what they’re capable of. Nevertheless, as far as we know no one’s been hurt and the aircraft is under control. She paused and looked meaningfully at Bradshaw. Colin, the last Islamist attacks we had were linked to the Triumvirate. The word hung in the air. Part conspiracy theory and part reality, the shadowy presence of the Triumvirate was still a contentious concept among the hard-bitten realists of the intelligence community.

Bradshaw grunted. Unproven, Patricia. There were some far-right groups linked to the Triumvirate making hay from the involvement of ISIL sympathisers but we didn’t prove a direct link. In any case, it seems unusual. Why would the Triumvirate back local Islamist terror attacks given their recent focus on...more distant matters?

Tension built as they anticipated where the conversation would lead. Conway addressed the elephant in the room.

You mean the Visitors Conspiracy?

A chill played across Matt’s shoulders. Four years ago, the FBI had raided a domestic terror cell in New York which was infiltrated by covert operatives. They claimed these operatives were connected to the so-called ‘Visitors Conspiracy’ which was a diversionary front for an assassination attempt on the President. The FBI lost three SWAT members and the perpetrators allegedly escaped. He saw where Patricia’s mind was leading and was quick to see the connection.

"There are some similarities. As you said, Patricia, the secrecy of the hijackers is unusual. AQ and IS are quick to take credit and voice the justification for their actions. These guys haven’t even contacted the crew. But they also haven’t attempted to take control of the aircraft, which is very unusual. If it stays that way, they’ll end up trapped aboard when it lands. It’s a dead end for them, which is suggestive of a wider conspiracy or distraction attack. And that does fit the Triumvirate’s M.O."

He breathed in. He’d just made a bit of a punt but it had made sense even as he said it. The sceptical frowns on most of the faces in the room made him quickly recalculate other options.

On the other hand, the country of origin, the reported accents of the hijackers, the proximity of the AQ cells in Kashmir – it still suggests an Islamist plot. Or, it could just be asylum seekers trying to guarantee entry to the UK now we’re an isolationist state. He paused. There is somebody we can call. If our masters are willing.

Conway sighed. Sentinel? After the debacle in Ukraine, our masters are reluctant. They don’t want that sort of disaster on British soil. If it comes down to a military response, we have our own people. Then again, Sentinel’s extraordinary intelligence-gathering abilities would be useful to us.

There was a silent chorus of nods around the table. Conway looked back at Matt.

We will accept your recommendations as our initial advice to the other security forces. Flash it to AVSEC at the DfT, Special Branch and the MoD. From now on, this Department’s priority is identifying the hijackers. Get an analysis team onto the voice recordings, passenger lists, airport CCTV, anything we have that could possibly identify these people. Make sure Manta is in the loop. If we’re going to let them land, we have to know who they are.

Yes, Patricia, Matt nodded and began to gather the reports and paperwork.

And Matt – I want you up at Stansted when the plane lands. We need you to monitor the other security services and make contact with Agent Biscayne. We’re putting our head in the lion’s jaws here and I don’t want it bitten off.

Matt agreed. And he knew exactly who he was going to call next.

An Old Friend

Much Hadham, Hertfordshire

Wednesday, 14th October

9.50 a.m.

Robbie Martin’s desk phone trilled on his leather-topped mahogany desk. The caller’s number was both familiar and welcome.

Matt! Bloody good to hear from you. Let me guess why you’re calling.

Matt laughed. I don’t have much time, Rob. Is your end secure?

Of course.

Okay, let’s get straight to the point. You know about the hijack – is there anything I should know about Triumvirate involvement?

Robbie was immediately surprised. Why would this have anything to do with the Tri?

Matt paused. I’m not sure. Just a hunch. Before the whole Voyager thing blew up, there was an incident in New York. An FBI strike team got its arse kicked. The killers got away.

Yes. That was Supra, the paramilitary wing of the Tri. Supra were stirring up disinformation on their behalf. A diversionary red herring.

Yeah, I know – but their modus operandi was to quietly infiltrate first and then reveal their hand, do you remember?

This time Robbie paused for thought. I see. Is that what reminds you of this situation?

Matt sighed. Rob, I don’t have time to go through all the ins and outs. But I need you to check your network. See if there’s any correlation between Tri-related traffic and any threat coming from India. If I remember, India played a part in the Voyager plot by providing the bogus signals for the images to be downloaded.

Robbie understood. I’ll get on to it. What number will you be on?

Just use my work email or text my P-number. Matt had a confidential number that only a select few encrypted phones could call. Robbie was one. Matt’s wife Callie, who was also Robbie’s sister, was another. Both had security clearance owing to their involvement with the secret investigation and intelligence gathering work involving the Triumvirate and by association, the alleged extraterrestrial Visitors.

I’ll do that, Matt. Have you told Callie about this?

Not yet. But if you need to involve her, I’m fine with that. Just keep her at a distance, okay?

Sure, Matt. Stay safe out there, okay?

Hey, no problem. It’s me! He hung up.

Robbie thought about the call for a second. He was working freelance for the British Intelligence Services investigating the Triumvirate. In the early days of their exposure through the Voyager conspiracy he’d made some vital connections, making him a valuable player in the unfolding intelligence war. He’d been instrumental in plugging a leak in MI5, caused by a rogue Triumvirate agent who had subsequently disappeared. Since then, MI5 had been a constant thorn in the Triumvirate’s side, but the conspirators’ extensive control over the biggest media outlets had frustrated every attempt Robbie had made to break their wider conspiracy to the general public.

But Robbie held two vital cards in this spy game that the Triumvirate couldn’t touch. The first was Callie. She’d been at the centre of the Voyager investigation with NASA and then the FBI, trying to establish the existence of the Visitors as a genuine alien presence. To avoid the meltdown of Western society, the FBI had distributed deliberate misinformation to the media which declared the whole thing a hoax to mask an assassination attempt on the new US President. It was a shrewd move – if the Triumvirate tried to debunk the FBI’s story, they would have to show their involvement in the plot and admit their failure, implicating themselves.

His other ace-in-the-hole was a solid connection with the anonymous private security corporation called Sentinel. He knew the heart of Sentinel was the FBI task group who had broken the Voyager plot. It was a highly secretive operation, well-funded and extremely secure. They had provided information which allowed the FBI and MI5 to foil several Triumvirate-sponsored terror attacks in 2018 – much of it gained by illegitimate means. He had gained their trust by never revealing the source of his information, but its accuracy had convinced the mandarins of MI5 that the threat from both the Triumvirate – and possibly even the Visitors – was real.

But it hadn’t been all good. He reflected on the Kiev Incident – a tragedy that had blotted Sentinel’s flawless copybook earlier that year. A middle school with eight hundred children had been taken hostage by very well-trained, Russian-backed terrorists. It had the hallmarks of the Triumvirate all over it. A raid by Ukrainian Special Forces had been brutally repulsed by the terrorists and resulted in nearly forty deaths, mostly children. The terrorists retook control of the school and held it until the Ukraine