The Yeoman: Crying Albion Series - Book 1 Read Online Free PDF

steel hatch concreted into the ground. Then, using
a rope and the ladder he unloaded everything down into it. When he lowered down
the last box the cache was nearly stacked up to the very hatch itself. By the
time he’d climbed back in to his Defender the Yeoman was exhausted. Nearly an
hour and a half had elapsed. One last sweep of the house saw him bag up any
compromising material. Pictures of he and his fiancée, her jewelry and an
office drawer containing all his paperwork went into a spare duffel bag.
Opening his gun cabinet he removed his CZ 75 P1 sidearm which went into a
military holster. A Benelli M4 shotgun was normally
present but that was at Hereward Barracks in the armory there.
    All that remained was his rifle,
the weapons from the ferry port, his bug-out bag and some vehicle stores. He
got into his Audi Quattro having loaded most of the gear into the boot. Before
he left in the new vehicle he drove his Landrover deep into the woods, far off his land. By using a folding bicycle that was
stored in the back he was able to pedal back to his farm house again. After
collapsing it and packing it in with the other stuff he almost gave into the
urge to rest. Pushing the temptation aside Weyland felt satisfied but near the limit of his body’s capacity, both mentally and
physically.
    The Audi’s engine started with a
slight delay but that was understandable given his absence while in Ireland. As Weyland left his home behind he wondered if he’d ever
see it again, the world was changing. He felt like being on board a submarine,
barely eluding a task-force that wanted him dead or alive.
    It was a one hour drive to
secretive Estates that the Colonels tended to frequent. For the first ten
minutes as he made his way down the country lanes he expected to face a police
convoy. Once he reached the A1 though all was well. Only when he passed a
police convoy going the other way did he relax. His adrenaline slowed and more
restful thoughts swam into his mind. Weyland thought
of his fiancée down in London and the work she did there. It was dangerous but
neither would have it any other way.

 
 
    Chapter
3

 
    The
Ministry

 
    The Land Ministry ruled from an ugly gray building.
It had been constructed in the name of efficiency during the late
nineteen-sixties. It was largely made up of various civilian elements of the
Ministry of Defense who worked there. A multi-sectioned office within it housed
a department known as Special Occurrences Task Force. It was seldom known of by
most in the mainstream military, even the MOD folks would struggle to gauge
what it actually did. Such was the compartmentalization the shadowy group were
only fully known within the Ministry of Intelligence. The Ministry of
Intelligence did not dwell in the Land Ministry though and far from the master’s
eye the servants of the MOI roamed free.
    In the years gone by SOTF had shrunk from a platoon-sized formation
with detachments overseas to just four operatives though. Originally it was
formed to assist NATO fighting military spies from the USSR. Then after the
USSR had collapsed they’d been reorganized to spy on other nations within NATO
and beyond. After the Colonel’s Coup they’d turned their gaze inward further and
worked with the aim of building a file on suspected terrorists from native-born
Britons. The Colonels War which followed left London unscathed and SOTF focused
its gaze upon the Yeomanry.
    Unlike MI5 though SOTF were a military echelon which meant they were
much less accountable, could carry side arms concealed, even when off-duty.
Such a thing rankled the Land Ministry bosses but the section 5 authority to do
so came straight from the Home Office.
    On the lowest rung of the SOTF ladder was Lance Corporal Brian Athered . He was new to the detachment with only a month’s
experience there, together with a year of military service. The wide-eyed, optimistic
prism he saw the world gave him a fluid appeal among friends and