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reinstated, and KTS is officially part of the MOD and RPOC, and therein, retains responsibility for the defence of the realm.’
    The Colonel and I glanced at each other and shrugged. Fine by us.
    ‘Item one point five. Your crazy Muslim friends, the…’ he paused and looked at his notes… ‘Hur al-Ayn. We like their style. Get them on board.’
    The Colonel started chuckling silently then stopped. The Defence Secretary continued. ‘Since the girls are UK nationals and civilians, we feel the best way forward is to place them under the auspices of the MOD’s Military Stabilisation Support Group. That gives us a bit of leeway.’
    I nearly laughed as well. But it made a kind of sense. MSSG was a joint MOD-TA-civilian group specialising in training forces for operations in places like Afghanistan. A bunch of lunatic Muslim girls would fit right in to the order of battle.
    ‘OK. Item two. It’s now obvious to everyone that there has been major penetration of the Met and its associated PSCO elements, by al-Qaeda. We were watching some of these people but we didn’t realise how bad it had got. That changes as of today. We’re going for them.’
    ‘Item three. The late Lord Khalil. In case you’re wondering, we tasked E Squadron to take him out and they did a great job. Looked like an accident AND sent a message to his associates.’
    The Colonel raised a hand.
    ‘How are the Prime Minister and his deputy on all this? Is this OK with them?’
    The Defence Secretary met his gaze. ‘You bet they are, David. They’ve had enough. They’ve also been reminding all who need reminding that we all swore an oath of allegiance to the Crown and that is the trump card here. When all is said and done we serve Her Majesty the Queen, and not some overpromoted ticket puncher from Scotland Yard.’
    The Colonel gave a stiff nod of his head. ‘Agreed. All the way.’
    ‘And item four. Assessment of the involvement of the Socialist Workers Party in the logistical support for the September 13th attacks. Obviously we figure it’s quite heavy so at some point their leadership is going to have to be taken out.’
    It was my turn to speak.
    ‘All of them? Including the two who are Security Service assets?’
    ‘All of them, Mr Sabir.’
    The Home Secretary interjected. She’d just got off the phone.
    ‘Just so you know, gentlemen, that letter from that jumped - up little semi-literate shit from the Muslim Police Association spurred me to action. I’ve just authorised the cutting of all of their funding.’
    That was a relief. No funding for a group normally meant…no group, after a short while. We talked military logistics for ten minutes or so and the Defence Secretary pronounced himself satisfied. 'If you're happy David, then so am I. I'm signing off on it. Try not to get blown up.'
    The Colonel laughed again, but only for half a second. He'd known Airey Neave.
    All these references to Airey Neave were making me uneasy. Officially he’d been assassinated by the INLA, a loony offshoot of the IRA, but plenty of people in our world thought differently. Some of them even maintained MI6 elements had carried it out, or, and this made more sense to me, allowed the INLA to do the deed.
    The Home Secretary spoke. ‘My turn.’ She slid her own folder across to us. The cover read ‘Infidels/C18 intentions and capabilities’. This one I had seen before, as myself and Duckie had been some of the advisors on it.
    She turned to me. ‘I’m told you’re the best in the business at getting inside groups like this.’
    Cheers, Colonel Mahoney, I thought inwardly. ‘I have my moments.’
    Again that harsh bark of a laugh. ‘Get yourself, or one of your friends, inside the Infidels, and or, Combat 18. We want to know what they’re planning. They’re almost impossible to get a handle on. And the last thing we want is a lone wolf attack on British soil. No lone wolves, Riz, no Breiviks.’
    I looked at the Colonel. He tilted his head in