In the heart of London – Surveillance at a glance…

The capture of Thorne and Solovyanova was a monumental success, dismantling the SVR’s long-term recruitment strategy. However, the intelligence gathered from the Soft Strike briefcase was not solely about Moscow’s operations. Deep within the encrypted communication logs, Jake discovered a final, chilling thread linking the SVR handlers to the remnants of the Keegan and Alchemist networks—a clear transactional relationship between Russian intelligence and the Provisional IRA’s remaining operational cells.

The Blowback: Operation Vigilance
Alistair called them into his office less than twelve hours after the Harwich raid. “The SVR was selling more than just encryption and recruitment tactics. They were giving the IRA fragments high-grade surveillance and counter-surveillance gear. They exchanged technology for chaos.”

The immediate danger wasn’t a complex plot; it was simple, brutal retaliation. The IRA cell in London, likely the same one that almost received the Canary Wharf intel, had been tracking Thorne and Solovyanova. When the handlers were seized, the IRA realised their high-value link to the SVR was cut, and they knew exactly who was responsible: MI5.

“We have credible intelligence suggesting a flash-retaliation,” Alistair continued, his hand flat on a tactical map of London. “The target is likely to be high-profile, and given the speed, it will be low-tech and violent. And given your recent success…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Emma and Jake were the obvious targets.

“You two are under Operation Vigilance,” Alistair stated firmly. “You are moving immediately to a secure facility. No non-essential travel. No home visits.”

The London Ambush
Despite the directive, a secure transfer required a journey. As dusk fell, Emma and Jake were travelling in an unmarked, heavily reinforced saloon car, escorted by two MI5 tactical vehicles, navigating the busy arterial roads of West London toward the facility in Westminster.

They were moving through a congested, residential area near Fulham, and the cars slowed to a crawl due to rush hour traffic. Jake, driving the lead escort vehicle, spotted the anomaly first.

“Check the roofline, Emma, three o’clock,” Jake instructed quietly over the tactical channel.

Emma, in the back of the saloon, leaned forward and saw it: a man in dark clothing positioned on the roof of a Victorian terrace, holding what looked like a rifle, its silhouette clearly visible against the darkening sky.

“Contact high, hostile with a rifle on the roof!” Emma confirmed, her voice cutting through the comms.

The IRA operative was using the traffic congestion and the residential environment—the precise chaos the SVR had promised them—as cover. He didn’t have a clean shot at the convoy, but he had a clean shot at the intersection.

Before Jake could accelerate, the rifle fired. The shot wasn’t aimed at the convoy, but at a parked vehicle near the corner. The car exploded, a controlled detonation that Emma immediately recognised as a shaped charge designed to create a bottleneck and block the route.

The explosion was the signal. Two more figures, masked and carrying automatic weapons, emerged from an alleyway, immediately engaging the rear escort vehicle.

“Ambush! Ambush! We’re under attack!” the rear escort commander shouted over the comms, the sound of automatic fire tearing through the channel.

Close-Quarters Firefight
Jake didn’t hesitate. He slammed the MI5 saloon car into reverse, narrowly avoiding a collision with the burning wreck. “We’re dismounting! Can’t stay bottled up!”

Emma and Jake burst from the car, their training taking over. Their primary goal was to neutralise the gunmen and secure their own positions.

Emma covered the street, dropping into a firing stance behind a low stone wall, immediately engaging the two gunmen. She moved with practised economy, her shots precise, forcing the operatives to take cover behind bins and parked cars.

Jake, meanwhile, sprinted toward the corner where the first explosion had occurred. He had to clear the street and deal with the sniper on the roof who was controlling the situation.

The street became a terrifying echo chamber of gunfire. The two gunmen were disciplined, returning heavy fire, but Emma had the advantage of position. She managed to tag one of the operatives, who dropped his weapon and retreated into the alley.

Jake reached the base of the terrace where the sniper was positioned. He kicked open a garden gate and rushed up the narrow back steps, knowing he had seconds before the sniper repositioned.

On the roof, the sniper—a cold, determined operative—heard Jake coming. He swung the rifle down, intending to take Jake out as he crested the roofline. But Jake was faster. He rolled onto the roof, his sidearm clearing its holster in a smooth motion. The two figures exchanged fire at point-blank range.

The sniper’s round went wide, shattering a chimney pot. Jake’s shot was true, neutralising the sniper and sending the rifle clattering across the slate roof.

The All-Clear
The sudden cessation of the sniper fire broke the back of the ambush. The remaining IRA gunman, seeing his tactical support gone, knew the game was lost and retreated into the maze of London alleyways.

Emma and the rest of the MI5 team quickly secured the area, calling in the all-clear. The air was acrid with smoke and the smell of cordite. Both escort cars were damaged, but miraculously, no MI5 personnel were seriously injured.

Emma found Jake catching his breath on the edge of the roof, looking down at the street now filling with emergency sirens.

“Too close,” Emma said, joining him on the roof, surveying the chaotic aftermath.

“That wasn’t just payback,” Jake said, his voice husky. “That was a message. They hit us where we live, and they hit us immediately. They’re telling us they’re not intimidated.”

The success of Operations Soft Strike and Vigilance had only confirmed the IRA’s suspicion: MI5 was actively targeting them. The era of shadowy, distant threat assessment was over. The IRA had brought the fight directly to Emma and Jake’s doorstep. The game of subtlety had escalated into open war on the streets of London.