jtd@dec.uk.net

One can only imagine what it would be like to be the sole witness to a ‘Gang Land’ killing: the fear, terror, retribution and persecution that would ensue. It was by pure misfortune that Amy Smith was walking late at night through the derelict warehouses by the old wharf in Limehouse. She had not chosen this secluded venue but through no particular fault of her own, her lift home from the party had chosen to seduce her at this spot. Being an empowered woman she soon dispatched his unwelcome overtures with a punch to the privates and left his car without ceremony or comment. His masculine pride was damaged and he left Amy to her fate in this lonely spot.

Three months later, following the trial, Amy had to leave London and move into an isolated house on the outskirts of Savernake Forest in Wiltshire. Under the witness protection scheme she had provided the necessary evidence to put two, vicious gang leaders away for life. She now had a new name, (Jess Taylor), a new identity and home, though not by choice.

Jess was surprised when she saw the old Station House for the first time, as it was completely isolated, not even forming part of a small hamlet or village. Nestled within a small coppice of beech trees now changing colour with the season the modest, three-bedroomed dwelling was surrounded by open countryside and appeared bleak and unwelcoming. Her heart fell as she climbed out of the unmarked police car and placed her feet on Wiltshire soil for the very first time.

"Is this it?" Jess asked.

"Yes, your new home … Station House," replied Sergeant Hogg as he wiped ketchup off his sagging chin and threw the discarded burger wrapper onto the shabby garden.

"Not much is it?" commented Jess as she picked up the wrapper and put it in her pocket.

"Sure, but it’s your home and the start of a new life," replied the Sergeant lighting another cigarette.

Jess wandered around the outside of the house as her minder pulled suitcases and bags out of the boot. Inspector Blane checked the perimeter for signs of movement, as he wanted to ensure the complete safety of his arriving witness from prying eyes. Jess peered in through the kitchen window and saw a plain, lifeless room containing only the bare necessities of life. She walked towards the front of the house and looked in through the living room window. Again this was a plain room but she noticed a TV, video and computer. This would provide her with some entertainment and hopefully a link to the outside world. But whom could she communicate with? She was not allowed to contact her family and friends, as part of the witness protection scheme. To do so would endanger her life and that of her closest family and friends. Jess felt alone and isolated. Inspector Blane called her to the front door as he had something to show her.

"Now Jess this is no ordinary house."

"You could have fooled me!" Jess interrupted.

"The house is fitted with electronic metal shutters on the windows and doors, a panic button, linked to Marlborough police station and reinforced wood effect doors. The windows are bullet proof and the roof has been specially reinforced to deter ever the most hardened of burglars."

"All for me?" asked Jess in total disinterest.

"Not entirely. It was originally designed as a nuclear fall out shelter, hence the added security measures. Beneath is a bunker that could have held twenty people and sustained them for a year following a nuclear attack. Most of the equipment has been taken out now but obviously the ministry could not sell the property in the light of these modifications. It has remained unused for nearly ten years."

Jess was beginning to get interested now, as she felt rather privileged to be the next internee.

"So it would be rather difficult for anyone to break in," she commented as she began to weed the front garden bed and mentally classify the species of garden plants.

"Indeed. Now this is the key you need to unlock the door. Turn the lock twice and you have ten seconds to punch in the security number into the alarm pad." Jess watched as the Inspector unlocked the door and rushed to the wall panel to the right of the front door. He punched in a six-digit number and the warning siren was plunged into total silence. "That’s better. Hogg bring in the luggage if you don’t mind." The Sergeant threw his cigarette end onto the front lawn and started to carry the cases and bag into the house. Jess despaired at this man and vowed to pick up the offending butt end when he had gone.

Jess visited each room in turn but only found one bed. The bathroom and kitchen were clean but basic. The fridge was well stocked and she was comforted to see several bottles of white wine lying on the bottom shelf. In the living room there was a large fireplace with two huge piles of logs, a two-seater settee, a coffee table, a CCTV monitor and a dining table and three 1930’s style chairs. The house felt more like a prison to her but she was resigned to accept her new identity and lifestyle in good grace. Well at least for the next few months or so.

For the next few hours Jess listened to a host of explanations, routines and procedures from the Inspector and she was glad when the two officers finally left to return to London. Closing the front door after them and setting the intruder tamper alarm (attached to all doors and windows) was a great feeling and she made her way to the fridge for sustenance. She threw the butt end into the bin and washed her hands thoroughly trying the erase the memory of Sergeant Hogg.

Returning a few minutes later with a sandwich and a large glass of wine Jess lit the fire and made herself comfortable on the settee. Using the remote control she flicked through the cameras on the CCTV monitor. She discovered in all there were six cameras; one at the front door, another covering the front garden and path, the third covering the rear, the fourth in the kitchen, the fifth on the upstairs landing and the final (and possibly the most interesting) showed the road leading between Bedwyn and the A4. Jess watched as a few cars passed by and two women on horses took a leisurely walk down the lane on two, fine white chargers.

Having checked the cameras Jess thought that she ought to read the security manual. She flicked through the pages and gradually became familiar with the operation of the security shutters and general alarm. The phone rang but Jess left the answering machine to take the call, as instructed on page 25 of the manual. She heard a cockney voice emerge from the speaker,

"I know you’re there, bitch! We’ve been watching you." The line went dead. Jess flicked the cameras onto automatic and examined each progressive frame carefully. There were no signs of intruders, only a parked BT van next to the farm gate. As it was getting dark Jess pressed a button on the remote and closed the metal shutters. The gentle humming sound of the motors and the clunk of automatic locks made Jess feel secure as she resided within her secluded sarcophagus.

After supper Jess started to search for the entrance to the old nuclear shelter beneath. No matter how many doors she opened or rugs and carpets lifted she could not find the hidden entrance. For the time being she returned to the TV and watched a few programmes.

The phone rang twice and other threatening messages were left by the same sneering voice. Jess looked briefly at the panic button on the wall next to the fireplace but decided that these mere threats did not pose a risk to her personal safety at this present time. She poured herself another calming glass of wine and listened to some music. A few minutes later she was fast asleep upon the sofa lulled by the wine and warm, blazing fire.

Jess was awakened by a noise from the hallway. She picked up the remote control unit that also contained a panic alarm and walked silently towards the closed living room door.

"Amy, do not be scared. I have come to save you."

Jess was surprised to hear her former name used and her heartbeat tripled in her anxiety. Feeling brave she slowly opened the living room door and peered into the half illuminated hallway. Initially nothing seemed out of place so she moved out of the partial security of the room into the hallway for a closer inspection. Jess checked the windows and doors: they were securely fastened and sealed by the metal shutters.

"Amy, walk towards the cupboard under the stairs. You will find what you are looking for in there." The same voice whispered its command and Jess obeyed as a stupid lamb to slaughter. Drawing the single bolt she opened the cupboard door under the stairs. She felt for the light switch and a single 40W bulb that swung eerily illuminated the small cupboard.

"That’s it. Now pull the second coat peg into a horizontal position."

She reached for the innocent coat peg and cranked it into position. To her amazement the rear wall slid back to reveal a small flight of stairs falling into total darkness towards the bottom. Realising that she needed a torch Jess rushed into the kitchen to collect the item.

"Who’s there?" Jess whispered into the dark staircase. No answer came so she started to descend the flight of steps into a dark, musky and alien environment.

At the bottom of the stairs was a large chamber about 8 metres by 6 metres now devoid of all furniture. There were numerous empty pin boards on the walls and dust on the floor signifying that the room had not been entered for many years.

Jess turned towards the stairs as she heard the same voice behind her.

"Go towards the furthest wall and slide back the second pin board on the left."

Behind the pin board Jess found a small alcove. Pushed towards the back was a small notebook, which she carefully removed for examination. On the front cover

‘THE LIFE AND TIMES OF FRED BASSENGER’

was printed in capital letters. Jess opened the notebook and saw a page of handwritten text. As the light was so poor within the chamber she put the notebook in her pocket for closer examination later. She moved around the room and discovered three smaller rooms going off to her left. One contained a bed, another a radio and the last one was a small kitchen containing a Belling stove, a sink and a fridge. As she opened the fridge door the stench of mould and damp pervaded her nostrils. She quickly closed the fridge door and headed towards the stairs in a confident motion.

Having closed the hatchway to seal the entrance to the bunker she walked into the living room and closed the door behind her. She quickly checked the CCTV monitor to check for human movement outside and was relieved when her reconnaissance revealed only a passing badger casually crossing the lawn outside. She pulled out the notebook and settled down to read.

The notebook revealed the last ten days of Fred Bassenger’s life. He was one of the original construction workers during 1963, when the bunker was built. It appeared that he was working as a double agent with the Russians and had passed the details of the secret complex to the other side for the sum of £1,000. On the day before his death he had second thoughts and owned up to the betrayal. His final entry talked of a meeting with the commander at Savernake Low Level station. After that the remaining pages were blank.

Jess wondered what had happened to Fred Bassenger.

"I was set up. The meeting was a trap." Jess listened to the voice that filled the room. From respect and fear she did not turn around towards its source.

"Two soldiers took me and tied me to the track just outside the station on the step curve. The 9.59pm train to Andover finished their job and I’m doomed to wander this place for all eternity."

"That’s a high price to pay for betrayal," Jess commented casually no longer feeling frightened.

"Indeed, things were different then during the height of the Cold War. Life was cheap but peace was an expensive commodity." Jess turned to see a flickering grey outline hovering near the closed door.

"Are you Fred Bassenger?" questioned Jess trying to hide her obvious fear.

"Yes. I have come to protect you from those who seek you harm."

"How can you protect me?"

"At this moment men are outside digging in the Wiltshire soil towards this house. The parked van outside is their vehicle. Why do they seek you harm?"

Jess explained about the witness protection scheme and how she had put two bosses of the underworld into prison. The spectral shape positioned itself in front of her.

"You are a brave woman. Worry not for the men will not penetrate the bunker until tomorrow afternoon. Why not sleep and get some rest?" suggested the kindly spectre. Jess picked up the phone: the line was dead. She pressed the panic alarm to wait for the police.

"They will not come. The cable has been severed as well as the phone line."

"The bastards. They won’t catch me." Jess walked quickly towards the cupboard and opened the hatchway.

Standing in the darkened chamber she could hear the unmistakable sounds of shovels moving soil just beyond the forty year old concrete walls.

"How will they get through the concrete walls?"

"They have a pneumatic drill for use later. It will only take them a few minutes to breach the wall."

"Damn it. What can I do?"

"Absolutely nothing, bitch!" Jess turned to see a large man standing in the doorway to the small bunker kitchen holding a gun. He had entered using the emergency escape hatch ahead of his other troops. "Put your hands where I can see them and come with me."

The gang member pushed Jess into the living room and tied her to one of the dining table chairs.

"A little accident is about to happen. It would be a shame to burn this house down but needs must. You’ll be quite the Joan of Arc. You deserve to die after what you did to our governor."

"You won’t get away with it. The police will be hear in a few minutes," protested Jess trying to free herself.

"Oh dear one of the logs has rolled from the fire. I think it’s a little too close to the curtains." The man kicked it with is foot. "Yes I was right!" The curtains caught fire and the room began to fill with toxic fumes. "Enjoy your death! Sorry I can’t stay for the finale! I like a nice BBQ!" The gang member left the room and house using the escape hatch. Jess was left bound and choking to her imminent doom.

As the heat built up within her former sanctuary Jess felt the restraining ropes fall to the ground: a gift from her spectral friend. Without hesitation she ran into the kitchen and tried to raise the shutters using the emergency escape button. It had been thoughtfully deactivated by her former guest.

"Shit!!"

She ran back to the hallway but flames blocked her route towards the front door. There was only one place left to go. She quickly opened the hatchway and closed it behind her just as the woodwork on the stairs ignited in a ball of flames. Fumbling in the dark she tried to find her torch, but to no avail. Feeling around the internal walls she counted each room until she found the kitchen.

"Where’s this escape hatch?"

"It’s behind the stove," offered Fred who was trying his best to help without his earthy hands. Above Jess heard the sound of crumbling masonry and timbers as she felt for the stove. Having located it she tried to pull it away from the wall but it wouldn’t budge. She tried levering it in different directions but it remained motionless. Finally she kicked it in final desperation. Still it would not open and reality struck Jess. She was sealed in another sarcophagus and powerless to act.

"Fred, what shall I do?" No answer came and she felt quite alone and vulnerable as a young child in the night.

Outside three men climbed into a BT van feeling very pleased with themselves. They had finished their mission ahead of schedule thanks to the luck discovery of the escape hatch. The driver swung the van carelessly around in the driveway and sped off down the wet lane in the direction of the A4 and their fastest route to London. Feeling very pleased with themselves they sang rowdy songs and sipped from a whisky bottle. Just 100 metres from the A4 the driver reached for the brake but something was in the way. A shimmering, grey foot pinned his own to the floor whilst another pressed the accelerator to the floor. The van shot over the main road and plunged into the petrol filling station as 60 mph. The resulting impact and sparks ignited the fuel pumps and tanks and the van exploded killing its occupants.

In the subsequent inquiry an eyewitness reported seeing a grey outline of a man floating up the Bedwyn road after the explosion. As the witness was a reputable drunkard his statement was dismissed.

Moments after the crash Jess found the release catch behind the stove and crawled into the fresh air beyond. She wondered why the sky was illuminated in a reddy orange glow. She would find out with the morning light and the arrival of the metaphorical cavalry.

Jess lay on the lawn waiting their arrival and praised her God for her safe redemption.

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