He turned back to the suit and looked over it for any wrinkles. Reaching across, he smoothed the dark blue cloth where the breast pockets were, then he stood back and let out a long, soft sigh.
Sir Thomas stepped into the room. Charles turned and walked to a trunk against the wall next to the walnut wardrobe. Pulling the heavy metal clasp upwards, he lifted the lid of the trunk and gently laid it against the wall. Arms spread wide to match the width of the trunk, he reached in and lifted out the top layer fitted out with medals and insignia, and balanced it gently on the chair beside the trunk. Underneath was Sir Thomas’s footwear, mostly shoes, but also boots. He took out the operation uniform boots and placed them on the floor. Set into the lid of the trunk was a wire frame and attached to this frame were Sir Thomas’s weapons. Guns, explosive devices, knives and assorted hand weapons were clipped to the wire frame.
“Will you be requiring a weapon, sir?”
Sir Thomas paused in his dressing. He slewed his mouth to one side as he thought.
“Yes. That would be good for image. Let them know we mean business.” He turned and stared at the lid. He didn’t need to turn to know what was in there but he enjoyed looking at them.
“The Colt 12-mil automatic, I think, with the UNPOL webbing shoulder holster.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sir Thomas stood in front of the full length mirror, straightening his dark blue UNPOL tie. Satisfied, he stood ramrod straight, arms by his sides as if a private on a parade ground. He looked his image over head to toe. Then he straightened his Special Operations Executive red beret.
You shouldn’t have tried to put your freak spy on me, Flederson. That was a big mistake. He angled the beret down slightly on his forehead. Using Cochran to snuff out the trail the runner had laid to him, and eliminate the entire UNPOL oversight committee in one single act, was a stroke of genius, he thought, and smiled to himself. With a smart about-turn, he marched to the door held open by Charles.
The Heliocopter on the roof of The Marque, blades turning, door open, was for him. The two UNPOL staffers standing next to it saluted smartly. Sir Thomas returned the salute and climbed into the belly of the craft. He took out his devstick and started issuing commands. He would be at the scene of the attack in three minutes.
Sir Thomas strode out of the Lev into the forecourt of the UNPOL Executive Club. The Lev’s access had been limited to authorized personnel only and the forecourt cordoned off with crime scene red and white striped barriers on the Topside path in front of the club. He paused, hands on hips and looked around. A barrage of flashes hit him from the news people jostling for position behind the barriers and holding their cameras high to get an image. Despite his operational uniform not bearing any badge of rank, they all knew he was Director of UNPOL.
He walked over the red carpet, noting the darker patches where Cochran’s blood had stained it, and entered the club, his feet crunching on the broken glass and debris on the floor. The room was covered in foam, blood, shards of glass and scattered broken tables and chairs. He looked over to his normal table and saw that it was untouched. A bomb disposal team member walked up to him and saluted.
“It was a shaped charge, sir. Placed behind the curtain in the rear of the room. The Governors didn’t stand a chance, and by rights Director Flederson shouldn’t be with us.”
“Yes. Have you found any evidence, any trace?”
“Nothing yet, Sir, but we’ve only just started. Unfortunately the fire crew contaminated the area when putting out the secondary fires but we’ve identified their trace and it just means that sorting out the forensics will take a little longer, sir.”
“Very good. Carry on.”
The BDU officer saluted.
But you will find evidence, thought Sir Thomas. Once you sift through the pieces, something won’t fit, and that thing that doesn’t fit will do away with the spy who’s trying to bring me down.
Sir Thomas walked out of the club and over to the crime scene barriers where the news teams were waiting. They all started shouting and asking questions at once. He held his hands up and patted his hands in the air signaling for them to quiet down. The noise settled and Sir Thomas cleared his throat.
“There will be a full news conference at — ” he paused and looked at the watch on his wrist, “10pm at the UNPOL press center. Other than that I have no comments at this time.” The news peoples’ shouting of questions immediately resumed but he ignored them and turned and walked back to the Lev port. Entering it he took out his Devstick and said, “Call the Secretary General.”
Chapter 28
UNPOL Press Room, UNPOL Headquarters, Topside, New Singapore
Friday 3 January 2110, 10:00pm +8 UTC
Filled to standing space only, the press room at UNPOL’s Headquarters was silent. Sir Thomas and the Secretary General of the United Nation, Lin Deng Chui, sat at a raised stage at one end of the room. Behind them the twin flags of the United Nation and UNPOL. Deng took a sip of water. He could not see any floor from where he was sitting, the room was too packed. The 10pm broadcast out of New Singapore was global. It was 2pm in London, 9am in New York and 1am Saturday in Sydney, and the datafeeds showed almost global attention. Six and a half billion people were watching.
“My fellow humans. It is with great sadness that I address you tonight in my capacity as the Secretary General of the United Nation.” Deng spoke looking straight out at the crowd in front of him.
“In the wake of this latest attack, I have requested that the Acting Director of UNPOL, Sir Thomas Oliver, briefs us in UNPOL’s progress in putting a stop to this violent madness. We ask this, not in criticism of UNPOL’s efforts, let us be clear on that, but rather in pursuit of transparency, and simply because we know that humans everywhere are shocked by these outrages against humanity. I will ask Sir Thomas Oliver to continue.”
Sir Thomas adjusted his round rimless glasses and shifted in his seat, leaning slightly forward with a straight back. He cleared his throat preparing to read the words that Jonah had crafted and sent to him thirty minutes earlier.
“Thank you Mr Secretary General and my fellow humans. We at UNPOL appreciate your kind words on behalf of our contribution to solving these heinous crimes.” Sir Thomas’s eyes flicked to the Devscreen on the table beside him as he read the next line in his prepared speech.
“I asked Secretary General Deng for the opportunity to talk with you here tonight because it is time that we share with you what we know about these crimes in order that you can help us to stop this vicious violence. The attacks are related to the coming Tag Law. A powerful, criminal organization called the Hawks is acting now to intimidate us to not go forward with the Tag Law. This flagrant attempt to obstruct the law of the Nation, the law decided by the people, is something that we at UNPOL will not allow. Freedom of choice is the basis of civilized society and I promise that we will maintain that freedom for you.
“I have spent my life protecting the freedom of the individual but in that time I and my colleagues in UNPOL have fought a constant foe. That is the criminal gangs that still persist in our society. Operating at the highest levels, on the fringes and within the respected organs of state, these criminal gangs are now desperate with the thought of the coming Tag Law and seek to derail or delay it. The simple reason for this is that the Tag Law will make it impossible for them to continue with their criminal activities.