‘I know, but I’ve given this a lot of thought and I believe in what we are doing. And I’d like to make it very clear that I am doing this for the country, not for you or any other individual. So please don’t think that I’m doing this out of sycophantic loyalty,’ she teased, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Don’t let your ego get the better of your judgement.’
‘I… no, no, I never thought that you were only doing this for me. I just want to be sure that… you know what you’re getting into, that’s all.’ Stephens stammered, flushing involuntarily. Despite the fact that they usually had the easy intimacy of two people who worked closely in a demanding job, it was rare for them to speak so personally.
‘General Stephens, I am not dumb. I know what’s at stake here and I’ve evaluated the risk and the importance of what we are doing. I won’t blame you if we are arrested and sent to prison for life.’ More serious now, she continued, ‘When the opportunity to work for you came up, I leapt at the chance. I’ve learned more working for you than I got from my Masters and my time in DC combined. Don’t forget I’m a strategist, too — and I believe in what we’re doing.’
‘Okay, well I’m sorry if I sounded patronising,’ he replied, his composure regained. ‘I know you are an independent person and I know you’re smart enough to comprehend the implications of what we’re doing. I just, well… I just wouldn’t forgive myself if I got you into something you weren’t 100 per cent behind.’
Sarah, cocking her head, looked deep into General Stephens’ eyes. ‘Thank you for caring, but please don’t give it another thought.’ With that she stood, ran her hands down the front of her sensible skirt and picked up her leather case. ‘I have to go, I need to make some contingency plans in case things do turn sour,’ she said, turning and heading for the door.
‘There’s no doubt about you,’ said Stephens, with a wry smile. ‘I’ll see you here tomorrow morning, bright and early then,’ he called to her as she left the room.
‘Yes, you will. There’s a lot to plan. See you tomorrow.’ Sarah walked out, closing the door behind her.
Left on his own, General Stephens sat down and reflected on Sarah’s ability to constantly surprise him. Ever since she’d joined his team with a stellar CV — a Masters degree from Australian National University in Strategic and Defence Studies, winner of the Thawley Scholarship from the Lowy Institute which saw her spending time at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington DC — she’d been a great asset. She was still young, though, and sometimes he was shocked by her ignorance of what seemed to him to be fairly recent history. Her acutely honed knowledge of military theory more than made up for that, making her indispensable to his team. But, more than that, he’d come to trust her implicitly, and, yes, he cared for her very much. The way lifelong friends care for each other. Her personal life was a bit of a mystery because she never spoke of her lovers, which didn’t surprise him. She was a consummate professional and never broached personal subjects.
The fact that she was making contingency plans said it all. For General Stephens there was little point in contingencies. For him, if things didn’t go well he would be the first taken and the first sentenced. Treason. A terrible word — it sounded terrible, the implications were terrible, the act of committing it was terrible. But this was the path he was following. Though the death penalty for treason had been abolished back in 1985, the punishment was still very harsh — life imprisonment.
General Stephens knew his history. He knew that Australia had only ever been subject to one military coup, and that was in 1808. The Rum Rebellion, as it was known, had nothing to do with rum and everything to do with property — waterfront property, to be precise. The governor, William Bligh, went up against powerful property developers over the land around The Rocks in Sydney, which he believed was not being managed in the best interests of the people. Bligh was arrested by six officers — all with interests in property — and deposed. For two years an illegitimate government was in control of Australia, until a new governor, Lachlan Macquarie, was sent out from England. When Macquarie arrived he saw that the appointments made by the illegitimate government were reversed, all decisions made by the previous government reviewed, and the coup leaders expunged from the government. Law and order were restored.
While the two cases were very different — he was hardly overthrowing the government for his own financial gain — General Stephens couldn’t help wondering how history would remember his group, and what they were about to do. What would the historians call it? A coup, an act of terrorism, or an act of great bravery? Stephens knew all too well that he would be judged depending on who was writing the history — him or Hudson. Hero or villain, crusader or terrorist — it was entirely dependent on the hand that wrote the history.
After leaving General Stephens’ house, Sarah drove straight home to her apartment in the Canberra suburb of Kingston. The sun was already going down and she had a lot to do. While she had a deep respect and admiration for the general and she was absolutely convinced that what they were doing was best for the country, she didn’t savour the thought of spending the rest of her life in gaol. She knew that once their plans were put in motion there could be no going back. She also knew that if the federal police took action they would come down on the general and Fletcher first. She might have a small window of opportunity to make her escape. In order for her to take advantage of that window, she had to be ready to jump the instant the Feds made a move.
Being nimble was something Sarah prided herself on. She had never had a problem with emotional attachment, and she could up and move easily with zero fuss. What she needed was an exit strategy, a detailed plan in her head of her exact actions if the moment came. Money was an obvious issue — she would need cash, which would have to wait until tomorrow now. No one ever used cash, so it would be an unusual errand for her. All her transactions were taken care of by the highly traceable personal Nokia Mobile Life Activator (MiLA), a device that handled her communications, diary, data and payments, among many other things. Its biosecurity system, which ensured only the owner could operate it, was a blessing in everyday life but a nightmare when it came to doing anything illicit. Any time it was used, it would put a definite lock on her physical location. She would also need documents, transport, at least two safe houses, and a route to get her out of the city that avoided major arterial roads and potential roadblocks. The trouble with Canberra was that its design allowed for the city to be effectively locked down by police, which ordinarily Sarah thought was brilliant. Not so much now…
She entered her darkened flat, turned on all the lights and strode past her well-worn treadmill to her desk. After three hours at work at her desk, thinking of the angles and detailing a plan, she decided to run a bath. Her head was pounding and she wasn’t thinking clearly — this was when mistakes happened and she couldn’t afford that now.
With the bath running, she walked through the bright white space of her flat to the warmly-lit kitchen and poured a large glass of Petaluma Shiraz 2027, a wine that had aged beautifully. Now seemed as good a time as any to open it. After all, she might not get another chance at it. Lighting some incense, then taking the glass back to the bathroom, she used her remote control to select some music for her bath. She picked out her favourite track at the moment, a haunting piano piece called Glassworks, by the Philip Glass Ensemble. Whenever she listened to it she wished that it would never end, that it would just keep playing. But she knew that, like anything wonderful, it had to come to an end.