One morning a prominent former cabinet minister mysteriously falls to his death in front of a Northern Line train at Mornington Crescent station. An open and shut case? Sadly for Tracy, the Commander and their London Transport Division of the Security Service, nothing is quite so simple as an old enemy returns and sinister dark agents once again work their magic.
Amidst the ongoing investigation, our heroes have to defend against unseen enemies, conspiracies and a huge protest and riot that threatens to tear the City of London apart from around them.
But is everyone what they seem?
The footsteps of hard soled expensive shoes echoed around the warm dry tube platform of Mornington Crescent Underground Station. The blue and cream tiled walls, still shiny following a recent refurbishment, reflected the light afforded by the neon tubes mounted above from the ceiling as a lone passenger dressed in a long overcoat and carrying a brown leather briefcase walked slowly down the length of the southbound platform, towards the far end where the dark tunnel portal contrasted with the bright surfaces around it.
It was an early morning in late April, Easter had just finished and there was only a couple of days left until the arrival of May but already the weather was beginning to become hot and humid in London, an effect multiplied in the depths of the city's extensive deep level Underground Railway or Tube system.
The orange digits of the next train indicator flashed up a service to Morden in two minutes, another to Kennington in four and a further service to Morden in seven. The waiting passenger watched as the second and third trains expected alternated on the second line of the two-line display as if to pass the time.
The distant echo of further footsteps, probably on the other platform just through the cross passage behind him went by unnoticed as he shuffled his feet and looked on into the distant tunnel portal looking for any signs of the inbound service.
With the display now showing just one minute to the first train, the passenger became more alert and stepped forward in anticipation, standing with his feet just over the yellow safety line painted a foot inside the platform edge.
The build up of forced air through the platform preceded the train's arrival along with the sound of it passing over the point work at Camden Town Junction just a short distance further up the line. Just then the display registered that the next train was approaching, yet there appeared to be no further passengers waiting on the platform so he assumed that today was, at least for the moment, going to be a nice quiet run into work.
As the red painted front end of the 1995 Tube Stock train emerged from the tunnel portal at the opposite end of the platform, the accompanying noise of brakes and electric motors covered the approach of a second person on the platform, it wasn't until too late that the intending passenger realised that he had company.
With the leading end of the train rapidly approaching, the passenger was suddenly aware of a hand being placed firmly to the middle of his back.
"Mind the gap," a mystery voice whispered in the passenger's ear before he felt the sudden force of a strong arm shove him off the edge of the platform directly into the path of the train.
In an instant the driver applied the emergency brakes but it was too late as the loud thud of the passenger hitting the front of the train confirmed, before he vanished beneath the wheels of the train's leading bogie.
The mystery passenger on the platform stared directly at the driver through the shattered window glass, before smiling politely, readjusting his hat and then walking calmly away.
"Chief Superintendent, you seem to think that the British Government has some sort of bottomless chequebook just so that you can enhance your facilities, which must surely be the best in the City by now."
The Chief looked up from his notes with dismay, if there was one thing he really hated it was smart arsed politicians. He had been dreading this Government Commons Committee Meeting on Crime and Crime Funding since he was basically summoned to it a few weeks beforehand.
Still referred to as the Commander despite the fact he was now Chief Superintendent of the London Transport division of the Department of National Security & Civil Defence, the Chief stared the junior Home Office minister in the eyes with one of his trademark glares and opened with the facts.
"Minister let me make a few facts quite clear to you. Since I assumed Command of the London Transport Division in late December when we took over from the old British Transport Police, I inherited all of their resources, however I did not receive anything additional to that except the new head office in Holborn and an old single deck bus for a mobile operations unit that is so old and second hand we had to tie the exhaust pipe back on the other day with bayler twine".
The various officials, observers, MP's and members of the press gathered in the Committee Room in the House of Commons laughed quietly, the Commander's speeches were usually as entertaining as they were accurate and this was no exception, drawing his punches was a skill he never learned.
"As a result..." he continued pointing a biro in the Junior Minister's direction with menace "... I have just two hundred and fifty officers to cover over five hundred rail, bus and tube stations plus all the facilities, garages, depots and other sites that fall under our jurisdiction. In addition we are going to be overstretched next week when we have the Anti-Capitalist March and Demonstration in Central London on the 1st of May, a situation that is also affecting my colleague here".
He indicated his opposite number from the Metropolitan Division, Chief Superintendent Tandy who was trying to emulate the Commander's stare at the Junior Minister without much effect.
"It is not possible to supply any further funds from existing budgets" the Junior Minister insisted but the Commander knew lies when he saw them, especially from politicians.