Chapter 23

"There's all kinds of juicy stuff in those files," said Eric.

"Well, don't be shy. Share it with me," Archie encouraged.

"Okay, but you're not going to like some of it," Eric replied. "I think Malloy must have had you followed after your first meeting with him because the data on the system has linked the tip-offs about the terror suspects to Donnie. Not long after that, MI5 seem to have picked up on Donnie's financial transactions and linked those to your tip-offs – they put two and two together and came up with five. That seems to have been the point that they passed on details about the money to the police."

Archie scowled at that. He had quickly identified that he was being followed after the second meeting with Malloy at the police station, but he hadn't considered the possibility that the same thing had happened after the first meeting.

"Shit! So I ended up leading him to Donnie?" Archie asked.

"Well in one sense," Eric confirmed. "They also had information from the banks about the sudden increase in funds in Donnie's accounts. But it's the tip-offs that started getting them really interested. They knew there was nothing illegal with the money, so Louise was wrong on that. It wasn't passed to the police as a routine matter, it looks like they were trying to unsettle Donnie to see if he panicked and did something stupid."

"Why give Donnie the codename Tartan Terror though?" Archie asked. "We are the ones who passed on the information that stopped the terrorist attacks. Why would we do that if we were the bad guys?"

"Maybe they don't quite understand the relationships," Louise pitched in.

"What do you mean?" asked Archie.

"Well, maybe they think that Donnie was involved in some way – perhaps bankrolling the terrorists for example – and that you got the information by working for him. Don't you see? Maybe they think you are squealing on Donnie!" Louise explained.

Archie saw what she meant. His explanations as to how he had come across the information about the planned attacks had been somewhat flimsy – Malloy had challenged him on it. He was appalled that his failure to spot that he was being 'tailed' looked as if it had put Donnie in the position of being a terror suspect.

"What else will they be doing if they think Donnie is a 'player'?" Archie asked.

"I suspect they'll be giving him the full treatment," Louise responded. "His phones will be monitored; he'll probably be under surveillance..."

Eric interrupted her.

"Both of those are logged on their system. There's also some information that suggests they're trying to get someone on the inside here at Ardbrecknish," he told them.

"That would make sense," Louise agreed. "They're probably worried about what this site is for and having one of their own on the inside would be a good way of getting reliable information."

"Fat chance of that succeeding though," Eric sneered.

Louise and Archie looked at him, puzzled that he was so positive that the intelligence service wouldn't be able to plant an undercover operative.

"Why are you so sure they won't succeed?" asked Archie.

"Oh they might get someone on the construction team, but beyond that – no chance!" Eric stated emphatically.

"Why are you so sure?" asked Louise.

"What? Haven't you two sussed it out yet?" Eric asked in surprise.

"Sussed what out?" asked Archie, some annoyance creeping into his tone.

"All of the people that Donnie employs are connected to the McGregor clan," Eric told them. "Look."

He pulled up his list of names that he was working on for the clan gathering.

"There's Roy and Coleman and look, there's mine, Black – can't you see it now? What are the chances that MI5 has got a member of the McGregor clan on its books and available to go undercover? What are the chances that Malloy even knows that you have to be a McGregor to get a job here?"

"Are you sure about this?" asked Archie.

In response, Eric pointed out the other surnames of the people Donnie had recruited to work for Gregorach Enterprises.

"Well I'll be damned," said a stunned Louise.

"We still need to warn Donnie about this," said Archie. "I'll also have to confess that because of my sloppiness, MI5 are watching him and listening-in to his calls."

"Why didn't his damned goddess warn him?" Louise asked.

London, June 2012

The snaking line of protesters stretched back for something like two miles. Police estimates put the total figure at over 50,000 men, women and children, many carrying banners and placards. A police helicopter flew overhead, manoeuvring along the line of the march towards the Houses of Parliament.

The banners gave some clues as to which groups the protesters came from with slogans such as A fair deal for farmers or Greenpeace against Greed and more bread for less dough! representing the farmers, environmentalists and consumer groups respectively.

There were people up and down the line with loudhailers and they led the throng in a series of protest chants.

"What do we want?"
"Fair prices!"
"When do we want them?"
"NOW!"

The police commander was standing at the heart of his control centre, pleased that things seemed to be passing off peacefully. Whenever 50,000 people came together, there was always a risk of a flashpoint, but so far the protests had been good-natured.

"This is charlie-one-niner, I have two individuals on the roof of the Preston building, over."

The commander flicked his eyes to the screen that was displaying the images coming from C-19, the police helicopter above the marchers. The screen showed two men dressed all in black with scarves pulled up to cover their faces.

"They're carrying a case or something, over."

On the screen the commander saw what the helicopter pilot was describing.

"Get someone on that roof right now!" the commander ordered.

"I have a flame, repeat; the individuals on the roof have lit something. Going in for a closer look, over."

"Oh my god!" breathed the commander as he looked at the screen and realised what he was watching. The 'case' was actually a crate and it held a dozen bottles with rags sticking from the tops – it was a case of petrol bombs.

Both of the black-clad figures were now holding a burning torch of some description and they used these to light the first of the bottles. The commander stood in stunned silence as these were thrown from the roof-top, down onto the passing protesters. As quickly as possible the attackers grabbed further bottles from the crate, lit them and threw them into the crowd below.

"I have petrol bombs being thrown into the street from the roof-top. Two assailants now heading for the fire escape. Suggest emergency services will be required – there are people burning down there."

The calm voice of the helicopter pilot was completely at odds given what he was describing.

On the street there was carnage and panic. Twelve petrol bombs had been thrown. Seven bottles hit people and banners and that cushioning stopped them from breaking open. Five others hit the roadway though and shattered, spraying burning fuel and glass amongst the crowd.

Two quite opposite reactions from those in close proximity to the flames had a profound effect. Some used banners or their own jackets to wrap around those on fire and then rolled the people on the ground to douse the flames. Others panicked and pressed outwards from the flames with the result that some people found themselves knocked over and trampled on.

Donnie was at the weekly FM briefing once again. The topic being discussed was the food shortages and the actions of the big retailers in squeezing Scottish farmers.

"Weather conditions are likely to exacerbate the shortages and drive prices up even higher," said an advisor. "Floods in India and Western Australia have had a significant effect on wheat production. Drought in China, Russia and the US is doing the same. Normally the UK is all but self-sufficient in wheat – we produce around 15 million metric tonnes and use about 12.5 million. That's going to change this year. Yields will be severely affected by the weather. We might have a deficit of as much as 5 million tonnes."

"What alternatives do we have?" asked the FM.

"Persuading consumers to change their eating habits takes a long time," the advisor replied. "In any event, all of the other staples like rice or corn are just as badly affected."

Alex Salmond's expression made it clear that he was unhappy.

"You have to give me something to work with!" he all but shouted. "Anthony, have the big four retailers responded to my demands? Can we at least give people some good news about the price of meat?"

Anthony Brown didn't meet the First Minister's eye, and instead shuffled through his papers.

"Err, I'm afraid the response wasn't positive, First Minister," he stammered. "They say that economic conditions are such that they can't agree to your request to lower prices for consumers."

"First Minister? Can I make a suggestion?" Donnie interjected.

Alex Salmond swivelled in his chair to look at Donnie.

"You don't need to ask permission to contribute here, Donnie," the FM scowled.

"My parents are farmers and they've been facing this for two years now. I've suggested two things. The first is a new approach to growing grain that removes the climactic problems. The second might interest you given the response from the supermarkets that Anthony has just shared with us."

The First Minister perked up at that. He didn't like being beaten and the response from the retailers rankled with him.

"Tell me about this second idea," he encouraged.

"Well, I convinced my parents to slaughter their own livestock and to cut out the supermarkets by selling at a much lower price through the farmer's markets," Donnie explained.

The First Minister's eyes lit up. He focused on one of the advisors.

"What capacity do we have in terms of abattoirs?

"Err ... I'm not sure ... I do know that they are complaining that too much business has been diverted to England recently."

"I want immediate figures on whether it would be feasible for us to buy the Scottish livestock, slaughter it here in Scotland and sell it to our consumers at half the cost of the supermarkets! Let's see what we can do to adjust these 'economic conditions' that are influencing the big four!" ordered the FM.

Donnie smiled at the way Alex Salmond had picked up his suggestion.

"Dòmhnall, I hate doing this, but I need your service NOW!"

Donnie felt the familiar vertigo.

London, June 2012

Donnie's first sense was of the crushing weight bearing down on him. He quickly linked to his gifts and drew on the inner strength of Tailtui. That allowed him to push back against the downward pressure. When he felt able to breathe again, Donnie realised there was something underneath him.

Pushing with all his strength, he was able to get to his hands and knees and looking down he saw the 'something' was actually a girl. Glancing around himself, Donnie realised that he was in the middle of a sizeable crowd, a crowd in something of a panic. People were screaming and pushing in all directions. Even as Donnie watched, another woman was knocked from her feet and was lost under the press of people around her.

"Get her to safety, Dòmhnall. She has two broken ribs that need to be healed."

With some difficulty, Donnie managed to get to his feet and he pulled the girl up with him. Upright, he was better able to withstand the buffeting and he held the girl close as he let the press of the crowd carry them along. Already he was pushing waves of healing energy into the girl and he could sense her ribs healing.

Once Donnie was sure the girl was no longer in pain, he turned his attention to the task of getting them out of the crowd. He saw a side street and began angling them towards it. Eventually he could feel the press of bodies around them easing until he was able to escape and follow some others who were streaming into the side street.

Donnie set the girl down on her feet and saw that she was fully conscious.

"Are you okay? Can you stand?" he asked.

The girl nodded and Donnie dropped his hands from her shoulders. He had to quickly grab her again as two men crashed into her, almost knocking her off her feet, as they ran towards the crowd.