Murray McDonald - Assassin

“What about school?” asked Jonathan. “Your parents would expect you to finish your education.”

“Of course. But not yet. Maybe next week. There’s a trip to Machu Picchu in Peru. Maybe we’ll join them there, we’re not sure yet,” replied Tom, looking across at Lela. She had calmed down and in the company of old friends was beginning to look like her old self.

“OK, sounds good,” said Jonathan. “But seriously, don’t worry about the company, it’s fine.”

“No, I need to face up to it, he’s not coming back. I’ll be in tomorrow at 8.00 a.m. Could you please call a board meeting?”

“Of course,” replied Jonathan who left to tell his fellow executives to be in at 8.00 a.m. for a special board meeting.

Tom returned to his friends, Daniel seemed very keen to talk to him.

“Hi Tom, how are you doing?” he asked.

“Been better, I have to say.”

“Understandable. If there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks.”

“Any ideas or clues as to who’s really behind the assassinations?” Daniel lowered his voice as he asked the question.

“Yes, I think perhaps it was my dad afterall.”

“What?!” exclaimed Daniel almost dropping his glass. “How can you say that?! You know someone was trying to kill him. What’s come over you?”

“We don’t know for sure that someone was trying to kill him. You relayed a message to me and we saw a heavily guarded prison. It doesn’t prove anything. I’ve also received this,” said Tom pulling out his phone from his pocket. He showed Daniel the text he had received.

Daniel read the screen. It said “NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS — TRUST NO ONE — I ONLY PRAY YOU CAN FORGIVE US XXX- 9315502302225.”

“Who’s it from?” he asked.

“My dad.”

“When?”

“The time tallies with just before Alba One crashed.”

“Bloody hell!” said Daniel.

“Yep. Why would he ask for forgiveness if he hadn’t done anything wrong?”

“What are those numbers at the end?”

“Just gibberish. I think he must have lost control as his plane was about to crash into the Ocean. It’s amazing that he managed to press the Send button.”

“Come on, Tom. You can’t think like that. The guys in our group are still working through their contacts. Something will come up, you’ll see.”

Daniel tried to cheer Tom up but it wasn’t working. In fact, reading the message again had stirred up a lot of emotion in Tom. He just wanted to scream WHY????? But he couldn’t. The room was full of people. Tom and Lela agreed that they needed some space, they were becoming overwhelmed. Tom’s grandparents sensed this and thanked the guests for attending but asked if they wouldn’t mind, finishing their drinks as Tom and Lela needed some rest. Everybody quickly and quietly put their drinks down and left, except for Alan, the CFO, who made a beeline for Tom.

“Tom, can I have a quick word?”

Tom looked at him coldly.

“What do you want Alan?”

“Just two minutes?”

“You’ll have it tomorrow, not now. Please leave Alan.”

“But?”

Lela stepped in. This guy really was a pain in the neck.

“Not now,” she said firmly, stepping in front of Tom.

Alan backed off.

The US President was fuming. He had never experienced such a wilful act of betrayal. He could understand why General Powers had attended the funeral but as for the Vice President, that was unforgivable.

Beaumont had woken him up to tell him the news, holding the phone away from his ear as the President let rip.

Beaumont was summoned to the Oval office thirty minutes later. The President had needed time to calm down before making the call to the VP. They discussed the options and how to handle the call, the VP was no fool. He was always out to win brownie points and that was why his actions seemed so strange. Why would he go out of his way to attend the funeral of a public hate figure, in direct contravention of the President’s instructions?

The President hit the speed dial and the phone’s speaker began to buzz.

“Hello, Mr President,” replied the VP.

“Mr Vice President, may I ask what the hell you think you’re doing in Glasgow?”

The VP had been expecting the call.

“I was paying my respects to a former business colleague,” he replied cheerily.

“He’s responsible for assassinating half the world’s leaders,” screamed the President.

“Bullshit. That man probably never even killed a fly. I know it and you know it. Half the damn scumbags who didn’t show up at the funeral know it,” said the VP calmly.

The President suddenly became wary. Afterall, the VP had spent the day with General Powers.

“Do you know something we don’t?”

“Of course not. If I did, you’d know about it.”

“So what the hell are you doing sullying your name and our country at the funeral?”

“Trust me, the only people sullied and who will rue today, are those who didn’t attend. I can’t imagine the world’s richest and largest company is going to forget those who didn’t honour its founder and father,” said the VP, choosing his words carefully. “I never let you down Mr President. Good press will come from this, trust me.”

The President didn’t know what to say. The VP had put up a very good response and ultimately he was right. Donald Kennedy was going to be proven innocent soon, the final round of assassinations was not far away. But the VP was not aware of this and so he could not let the point go, the VP would smell a rat if he did.

“I don’t care what you think. The point was that you were asked not to attend the funeral. Your attendance is going to embarrass me, particularly amongst the world leaders to whom I suggested they not attend. The UK Prime Minister has already called.” He picked up the message from his desk and read it out.

“ Can you get the hypocritical bastard to call me back asap. And I’m expecting quite a few more like this,” said the President.

“That’s all very well but nobody informed my office that the funeral was a no go area,” said the VP.

The President snapped his head towards Beaumont who could only shrug, he hadn’t thought for a second he’d need to tell the VP.

“Well you should have been. I’ll call you back. I’ve got another call coming in,” said the President, hitting the button to end the call.

“That went well,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry but I never thought he’d want to go,” said Beaumont.

“To be fair, neither did I,” replied the President more rationally. “But actually, he’s right. And he’ll benefit from this when we finish off the other leaders. I can hear him now, I always knew the stories were garbage, ” mocked the President.

“Yes but maybe he is right. Perhaps we can gain from this. I could start a rumour that you asked him to attend,” offered Beaumont.

“That depends. What’s the timing for the next assassinations?”

“Two weeks. My men are preparing for them now.”

“OK, wait a week and start feeding the story. By the time the assassinations hit, we’ll look as though we always privately doubted Mr Kennedy’s guilt.”

“Excellent idea,” said Beaumont.

“So have your guys recovered from the mission?” asked the President changing the subject.

“Yes, most of those with superficial wounds are fine now. It was an expensive mission though. Over fifty men died and thirty are wounded and that doesn’t take into account Smith. What a shame, he was a good man.”

“Hmm I can’t help thinking that that was a very opportune death, you never liked the guy,” replied the President sceptically. “Just as well your guy fixed the Kennedys’ plane or The Chairman may not have overlooked the very high cost of the Guinean mission.”