Richard Wiseman - To Kill Or Be Killed

“You’re a lovely lady Mrs Robinson and people like you do scare me a little, but you tell Tarquin that it will happen in the next hour, as arranged, and if he doesn’t show some backbone he’ll regret it.“

“… It’s not even fuzzy we’ve been using this new programme we got from the CIA…what?” Jennie became aware of the look on Jack’s face. “Oh yeah shocking right he practically threatens to kill the home secretary…”

Jack looked at Jennie. This was his department, made up of enthusiasts like Jennie. He looked at her, wispy untidy blonde hair, held back by a mass of hair clips, blue jeans, trainers and GAP T- Shirt. She had lean, neat and fashionable black spectacles. They were his department, The Department for Internal Concerns, and they’d failed. The biggest concern, the ultimate terrorist prize had been won.

“Jack?”

The phone rang. Jack’s brow furrowed, quizzical and then a slight smile and sigh of relief.

“A smoke bomb? Just a smoke bomb?” He almost shouted with joy.

He picked up a remote and flicked on a TV.

“… orange smoke billowing from ten downing street. There was some sort of small explosion, but apparently the Prime Minister is fine. Whether this was some sort of demonstration or not we…”

It was Jennie’s turn to look shocked. Jack Fulton switched off the TV.

Play that again Jennie please.”

“What?” Jennie looked from the blank screen to Jack. ”What’s going on?”

“I have no idea, but I am sure we’ll work it out. Play me that file again.”

Jennie played the file occasionally glancing at the blank TV screen as if she were unsure as to what she had seen.

“You’re a lovely lady Mrs Robinson and people like you do scare me a little, but you tell Tarquin that it will happen in the next hour, as arranged, and if he doesn’t show some backbone he’ll regret it.“

Jack grabbed Jennie and spun her around.

“Well done. New programme from CIA did you say? Brilliant!”

“Yes, you just isolate the…” Jack held his hand up.

“Save it for later just give a copy of that file please.”

Westminster London

4-30 p.m.

April 19th

The black Honda had been parked nearby and it was there in minutes. Stanton stood by the back of the car as door opened for him on the stroke of half four. He looked back towards Downing Street expecting a huge explosion, but there wasn’t one. He stood still by the open door of the car looking.

“Get in Stanton.” Brook hissed.

Stanton was unmoved, he stood still looking. Suddenly bright orange smoke rose up in the air from that direction. Stanton got into the car and pulled the door closed.

The Honda pulled away. The cell phone in his pocket rang. He took out the lime green phone and answered the call.

“Yes.”

“This is the man who employed you.”

“Who are you?”

“We’ll meet later. Congratulations.”

“There was no explosion, just a smoke bomb by the looks of it.”

“That was the job Stanton; that was the job. We’ll meet and I’ll explain. In the meantime my men will take you to a safe house and give you your reward.”

The phone call ended.

“Impressive work Stanton, very impressive.” Brook grinned.

“I’m still confused.” Stanton replied.

“All will be revealed.”

“Any news on a price for the disk?” Stanton asked, not knowing what else to say.

“Yes. The boss is very impressed. Overall I’d say he’s all ecstatic. Job done.”

10 Downing Street

6 p.m.

April 19th

Tarquin Robinson sat in the chair opposite Gary Braine, across the table in the cabinet room. The building had been swept, the small dining room sealed off and security was at maximum. Mr Braine had a folder with a report in front of him.

“So we’re sure it was lucky the device didn’t properly explode, the orange smoke was due to the chemical mixture. I’ve not got a full report from the bomb experts at MI6, they’re handling it for us, they’ll be able to tell the origin and so forth. Stanton is being searched for. He must have had help. He disappeared, but we’ve put out alerts at all exits.” Robinson’s voice was a mixture of concern and efficiency.

“DIC can deal with that.” The Prime Minister replied.

“I’m not sure that’s best Prime Minister. It was DIC and that man McKie that gave Stanton the best possible method of entry. DIC have been appalling in this. That’s two of their passes stolen and used. Stanton used them and in a way McKie led them to you. I have to say that there must be a review of DIC and their role.”

“McKie risked his life to try and save me Tarquin.”

“I know Gary, but they’re not experts, they’re just people trained to watch and the duty team members haven’t distinguished themselves on this matter. I’m not saying that we don’t need full CCTV surveillance of that kind, but maybe it’s time to pass it to the Home Office to run, fully and properly. It was a good idea for nearly fifty years, but the world has changed and we need proper security experts, under the guidance of MI5, MI6 and the Home Office.”

“Jack Fulton’s a good man, nearly died over that nuclear business in the eighties.”

“Yes of course I’m not saying he’s not good, but a separate and independent civil service branch with armed people, bearing diplomatic immunity on UK soil isn’t what’s needed. They’re seriously compromised and let’s be honest, when it came to the ultimate test they failed. They failed you very badly. It’s just luck that you weren’t killed and DIC led them here.”

“I do see what you mean Tarquin. Well we’ll have a review and a full investigation of the past three days. I suggest you head it and perhaps the head of MI6.”

“Can I suggest Nigel Sternway? He’s very well thought of.”

“Okay.”

“Oh and I suggest even if DIC continue work whilst we hold the investigation and review that their duty teams be suspended?”

“Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Robinson got slowly to his feet.

“Thank you Prime Minister. I’ll start on that first thing in the morning.”

He left the room and went to his car, joined by a security operative, who sat in the front with the driver.

Robinson checked the glass between himself and the two men in the front, knowing he was secure he pulled out the cheap orange coloured Bic cell phone. He rang the one number in the contacts list. The voice at the other end levelly answered ‘Okay’ in a monotone voice when it was told.

“Job done, complete delivery of last requested item.”

Euston Towers

6-05 p.m.

April 19th

Jack sat back in his office chair as if stung by a hard slap in the face. The prime minister’s call had been a shock.

He called Magda from her office and dictated an all personnel e-mail. He registered her shock as she left to send it. He rang the duty team offices and then made his way to the board room on his floor.

Ten minutes later Jack Fulton was sat at the head of an oval polished table in a neat plain room. At one end on the wall above Jack’s head was a black and white photo of Churchill and at the other, on the wall next to the door, was a black and white photo of Daniel Trevelyan, the first head of DIC. Jack was lost in thought when the door opened and the duty team members came in.

David McKie sat on an upholstered wood frame chair at the door end of the table. Liam, Tony, Ellie, Terry and Jaz followed and sat in places around the table and finally Diane walked in and stood behind Jack, after placing a laptop on the table.