Murray McDonald - Assassin

He made some calls to government officials, further checking the allegations, in case they knew something he didn’t. Everything checked out. It seemed that Global Media was holding the key to the world’s biggest story. He was asked by the UK government whether he could hold the story until they made some further checks. It was a Sunday, things would take a little longer but they promised to get back to him by close of play.

He thought long and hard about what to do. If he launched the story straight away, only to find it was all rubbish, Donald Kennedy would have him for everything, his legal guys were legendary. If he waited and had final confirmation from the government, they couldn’t touch him, the government would be to blame. It also meant they could spend the day preparing for the biggest breaking story in the history of the company. The decision was made. Print runs were halted, the first 5 pages were cleared on every paper they published. Each one of their main presenters was contacted and told to report into work on the Monday. Their schedules were re-arranged, holidays cancelled or interrupted.

Max’s phone rang. It was 7 p.m. in London and it was the call he had been waiting for. He grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” he answered excitedly.

“Hello Mr Marshall.” It was definitely not the call he had been expecting.

Tom only realised the time when he heard the commotion outside his room. He had been so busy on the phone that two hours had flown by. He walked out, said hi to the group and explained they were borrowing one of the conference rooms and led the way.

“I’m sorry to ask you to come at such short notice,” began Tom. “I know we all start school tomorrow but I thought there were some things you guys needed to know.”

Tom spent the next twenty minutes bringing them all up to speed on that day’s developments including the latest news of his father’s alleged links to the assassinations. Finally, he stopped talking and waited for a barrage of questions. None came. All sat still, waiting for the punch line. No-one could believe that Tom’s father was responsible for the explosion, let alone the assassinations. That, of course, was why they had been selected, that and for their contacts.

Eventually, somebody spoke.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Daniel, the son of the Head of the Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service. Tom had known Daniel for some time and liked his straight talking, no-nonsense approach.

“We’re going to find out what’s happening and who’s behind all this. I hope with your help?” Tom looked around the table and was pleased to see everyone nodding.

“How about introductions, I don’t think I’ve met everybody here?” suggested Zach.

“Of course. My apologies. Probably best we just shoot round the table,” replied Tom indicating to his left.

“I’m Thabo, son of the President of Botswana.”

“I’m Daniel, son of the Head of the Israeli Mossad.”

“I’m Zach, son of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the US.”

“I’m Jin, granddaughter of the President of the People’s Republic of China.”

“I’m Sofie, my mother is President of the European Commission and I’m from the Netherlands.”

“I’m Elena, my father is the Secretary General of the United Nations and I’m from Peru.”

“I’m Lela, Tom’s sister.”

“And I’m Tristan, the son of the Prime Minister of the UK.”

“Excellent, I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other much better but there is one more person I want to bring into this group. He’s not at this school but I called him earlier and told him everything I’ve told you guys and I think he may be quite helpful.”

“Who is it?” asked Tristan.

“Rolf. His family has some rather interesting connections in a slightly different world from the one we all live in,” said Tom awkwardly.

Thabo laughed.

“That’s one way of describing it, I suppose,” he said.

Everybody looked at him for more.

“His dad is the biggest crook in Africa and maybe further afield too,” he added.

“Underworld kingpin is probably more apt,” replied a blushing Tom.

“If he’s OK with Tom, he’s OK with me,” said Tristan.

The rest of the group agreed and Rolf joined the meeting by video conference.

Tom kicked the meeting off by explaining what he thought needed to be done. Two hours later, they all left the room, sworn to secrecy and with a list of questions to get answers to.

Tom checked his watch. He had one more call to make before he went to bed.

Beaumont was glued to the TV. He had been tipped off that the story would break in the UK at 7.00 a.m. which was 2.00 a.m. Washington time. Global Media were trying to get maximum exposure across the world on their biggest ever exclusive. It would mean that the US would wake up to the headlines in their newspapers and TV stations; the UK would wake up to their TV and radio station bulletins and a special edition of the Global newspapers, meaning none of the other UK papers would be able to copy the story. Across Europe and Asia, the story would break in daylight hours. It was going to be huge.

Beaumont could see it now, “DONALD KENNEDY — THE ASSASSIN. DONALD KENNEDY — WORLD KILLER.” He was watching the British-based Global media news channel. It was the prime time morning news show and was, because Kennedy was British, going to be the first to break the news.

Beaumont watched as the weather reporter droned on about slight rain from the West. The channel then broke for yet another series of adverts before finally showing the opening credits to the morning news show. Here we go, thought Beaumont as he increased the volume and sat with his nose virtually touching the screen.

“Good morning and welcome to breakfast news. Our top story this morning is Donald Kennedy.” Yes, thought Beaumont. “And the continuing efforts of the UK government to have him released…”

“What?” Beaumont asked the screen, his mouth wide open.

Tom and Lela could not stop checking their watches. This was the first day of school but they had to be in Conference Room One for a video conference at11.15 a.m.

They started school at 8.00 with a welcome from the Headmaster, Mr Sakamoto, who paid tribute to the world leaders who had been assassinated over the previous few months. He sent his condolences and sympathies to their families but also welcomed the new students who had joined the school under tragic circumstances. He then went on to more mundane house-keeping matters and by 9.00 am, the students were on their way to their first lesson.

At 11.10 a.m., Tom and Lela asked to be excused from their classroom. Mr Sakamoto had authorised the missing of one lesson to allow them to join the video conference. They rushed across the school grounds to the Conference Centre and entered Room One. It was a large room and as with the rest of the school, no expense had been spared, no corner cut on the presentation facilities, furniture or equipment. Large plush leather chairs surrounded the solid wood table, polished to perfection by an ex royal footman. A massive video screen covered one wall and showed eight expectant faces staring at the screen. All they could see was the very plush and expansive table surrounded by numerous empty chairs.

Tom and Lela kept out of the camera’s view and took a good look at each of the eight people on the other side of the world who had answered the call to attend a special emergency board meeting. Jonathan suddenly appeared on the screen and could be seen nodding to his colleagues. A sly grin thrown towards the camera suggested that he knew Tom and Lela would be observing them, in Glasgow at the global headquarters of Alba International.