Tom Aston - The Machine

‘ShinComm are huge,’ said Watts, trying to look knowledgeable. ‘They make smartphones, laptops that kind of thing. Mostly for the Western market.’

‘Sure. But I haven’t finished yet,’ said Stone, still pointing at the screen. ‘Take a look at this. This is a Youtube video clip which came up when I searched on New Machine Technologies.’ Stone began to play the clip on the screen while George Watts watched.

The Youtube clip showed a press conference with the search technology billionaire, Steven Semyonov. The video began as the camera alighted on a rookie reporter for GNN — Global News Network. An attractive young Japanese woman with the name Junko Terashima on her lapel badge. She looked nervous, almost guilty, like one of the quiet girls at school who'd landed herself in front of the principal. The camera flashed back to Semyonov’s face. He smiled like an all-knowing Buddha as she asked the question. Stone had watched this part maybe thirty times already.

‘ Junko Terashima, GNN, Washington DC… ’ the young reporter began, voice quavering. The whole room looked at her. Her face had a sheen of nervous perspiration as she read from a card.

‘ Mr Semyonov, can you confirm you’ve taken a major shareholding in ShinComm and New Machine Technology Company, of Shanghai, China? ’

The video flipped to a close-up of Semyonov. There was no reaction in Semyonov’s white face. The penetrating eyes betrayed nothing.

‘ I have a great many investments, Junko ,’ he said casually. ‘ Your point? ’

She cleared her throat again as if steeling herself, then read on. ‘ As a major shareholder, Mr Semyonov, you must be aware that experimental weapons manufactured by ShinComm have killed hundreds of innocent civilians. How do you feel about that? ’

Stone stared the close-up of Semyonov’s smooth face. It was the half smile that hooked him. A smile with the mouth and not the eyes, and it lasted a split-second too long. There was a hairline crack in his impenetrable intelligence.

‘ You are mistaken, Miss Terashima, ’ Semyonov said simply, but deliberately, and moved on to the next questioner. As the video clip finished, Terashima was being bundled out as a troublemaker.

Watts looked more uneasy than ever. ‘I don’t see the point,’ he said. But Watts saw the point very well. Semyonov was a very powerful man — intelligent, rich. Most of all he was popular. ‘I don’t know what you’re suggesting Stone. But you’ve already made too many enemies since you came here…’

‘Then another one won’t hurt. Let me explain,’ said Stone. He couldn’t let himself say Hooper’s name, couldn’t admit the personal connection. ‘I just received evidence to back up what this Japanese woman was saying. There was a manufacturer’s nameplate on that weapon. No one believed her when she confronted Semyonov, but here’s the evidence..’

Watts looked at Stone in sudden apprehension. ‘Whatever you’re up to, Stone, I forbid you to make an enemy of Steven Semyonov. For the university or for yourself.’

‘Semyonov is famous for his cool, and his intelligence,’ said Stone, ignoring the objection. ‘He’s never stuck for an answer. Yet here’s a rookie reporter and she’s caught him out. It’s there in his face. You can see it.’ Stone was talking Semyonov, but his mind was fixed on Hooper and the image of Ekstrom's face grinning from behind that gun barrel. ‘Why would this rookie reporter do this unless she had something? Semyonov is Mr Nice Guy. He’s worth billions and the media love him. Then suddenly — bang! This is not tax fiddling Semyonov’s involved in, George — this is evil, nasty weaponry,’

‘We’ve just seen a young reporter end her career,’ said Watts. ‘Nothing more.’

‘” Reporter fired for challenging billionaire ”. Since when did that mean she was wrong?’ said Stone. ‘The firm Terashima cites is New Machine Tech, George. And New Machine Technologies made the weapon in Afghanistan. The dead women and kids in that village connect directly back to Semyonov.’

‘‘I don’t care what you say,’ said Watts, shaking his head, more nervy than ever. ‘Semyonov’s a popular hero — a moral and intellectual hero. You can’t take him on.’

Stone persisted. ‘Junko Terashima knows about Semyonov, George, and I know about the weapons. Between us we have evidence.’

‘I forbid you to contact her.’

‘Chuck it, George. That’s weak, even for you. I’ve already been in touch with her.’ said Stone. ‘Terashima’s in Hong Kong. I’ve sent her photos of the weapon. This is bigger than Ekstrom and Special Circumstances. I’m going after Steven Semyonov.’

‘I forbid you to go to Hong Kong, Stone’

‘It’s a bit late for that, George. Jayne already booked me on tomorrow’s flight. Using your credit card, I should think.’

Stone had got what he wanted from George Watts — just. Most importantly, though, he’d kept up his cool persona — his front. Watts hadn’t suspected Stone’s underlying motives. He took another look at the email from Junko Terashima.

Stone-san. I heard Semyonov has left US for good and gone to China. Anyway he is Hong Kong, I am sure of that. I have a contact in ShinComm factory who told me Semyonov has been many times in China before.

I’m in Hong Kong. Semyonov’s people agreed to meet if I came to Hong Kong. I had to take the chance.

One more thing. Although I was fired by GNN, someone is still blocking me, even in Hong Kong. If I meet Semyonov’s people I may get the story, but I’m scared something’s going to happen. I think someone is following me.

J x

Stone could see this Japanese girl had no clue what she was into. It was the tone of her email, and the way she looked on that Youtube clip. And that cringey J x at the end. All of which begged the question: how on earth had she come by her information about Semyonov?

But it was academic. Stone wasn’t thinking about Terashima. His mind was imprinted with the image of Ekstrom’s gloating face as he put the bullet through Hooper’s brain. He was thinking of dissected bodies, of numbers in neat black marker pen on the foreheads, of the four dead soldiers. For once, emotion had got the better of him, even if he hadn’t shown it.

In his time with Hooper, Stone was supposed to be the cool, calm one. Yet here he was, doing a Hooper. Letting adrenaline and emotion tell him what to do. Stone’s rational mind knew this wasn’t about ShinComm, or Terashima, or weird weapons in Afghanistan. It was about Hooper.

Stone could easily convince George Watts — he always got the better of Watts. He could even convince a part of himself. Going after Semyonov was what NotFutile.com was all about, right? A technology genius like Semyonov building weapons? That was news. Oh yes, Stone could rationalize to whoever cared to listen.

But Stone had to be honest, to himself if no one else. This was about Hooper.

“ Semyonov’s a popular hero — a moral and intellectual hero,” Watts had said. Stone smiled to himself, a genuine smile for the first time that day. He was going to get to Semyonov and his mercenaries, even if he had to swim to Hong Kong.

Stone was sitting in coach, ten thousand metres over Central Asia. The seat-back TV was on in front of him, flickering away, but he was looking out of the window at the earth curving away beneath. Something was bothering him, like an itch at the back of his brain.

Stone hadn’t started NotFutile.com and his peace campaign immediately when he left the army. In fact he’d had “issues”. Some called it “post-traumatic stress”, but it wasn’t stress. It was more like “combat withdrawal”.