The Last Stand Down

by Philip J Bradbury

  "So we prevailed upon Mary, Sam's deputy, to talk with you directly," said Lady Atkinson.

  "Mmm, prevailed might be an understatement," said Lord Atkinson. "She was most insistent that you not be put in any danger so we put rather a lot of pressure on her and, being in the House of Lords, I can do that. I exercised my royal prerogative, if you like, for what we considered the common good."

  "Oh gosh!" said Arthur, wishing he could form new words.

  "So, Arthur, old chap, you now know why you're here - it's a conspiracy to keep you out of trouble!" said Lady Atkinson, happily. "A nice conspiracy."

  "A nice conspiracy," Arthur mused, not feeling totally comfortable quite yet.

  "Mmm, a nicely intentioned conspiracy that may have somehow backfired, dear," said Lord Atkinson gravely.

  "Yes, dear, I daresay you're right," said Lady Atkinson, blushing a little as she looked at her husband. "We all volunteered for this mission, so to speak, but you, Arthur, seem to have been volunteered by accident. Oh dear, we are sorry we've somehow got you into this mess."

  "Yes, hmm," was all Arthur could manage, knowing he should really say something gracious but not sure what it was.

  "Anyway, here we are, all probably being followed, Sam gone and the sods still at large ... oh, my gosh!" said Lady Atkinson, with a stark realisation. "What a time for Belinda and John to be here! I do hope they'll be safe ..."

  "I daresay they'll be safe, dear, they're holidaying in Scotland and it's unlikely anyone knows it was he who brought the plans to England a few years ago ... I hope," said Lord Atkinson, with the conviction in his voice fading noticeably.

  "Look, what you don't know ..." said Arthur.

  "Oh Arthur dear, please tell us," said Lady Atkinson interrupting. She started to look very tired.

  "Well, it's nothing much but my son and Mr Lord's daughter are both on the lookout for Mr Lord as well," said Arthur, "and I've got two of my best repo agents ... repossession agents, looking for him too. The agents have their ears in all sorts of devious places we'd never know about ..."

  "But can we rely on them?" asked Lord Atkinson, interrupting.

  "Oh yes, I've used them for years and, of course, Martin, Emily and the agents know nothing of the burglary or of Sam's connection to it," said Arthur. "They're just looking for a man who has disappeared."

  "So, Arthur, can you piece together any of this?" asked Lady Atkinson.

  "No, I have no idea who these people are or where Sam is or why he has disappeared," said Arthur, clearing his brain of all the drama and clutter. "But it does seem to me we have two alternative courses of action open."

  "See dear, just what Sam said," said Lord Atkinson. "Decisive thinking, cuts through the butter with a hot knife."

  "Darling, let Arthur continue," said Lady Atkinson.

  "Oh yes, yes, just so," said Lord Atkinson with the thought of action and clarity obviously energising him. "Do go on, Arthur, please do."

  "Well, we can either carry on being secretive, as we're now doing, everybody sneaking about in disguises and having whispered conversations in safe places," said Arthur, "or we can follow Mr Adams' example and go public. It seems, for him, that secrecy played into his aggressors' hands and his disclosure, his article, reduced any danger to him altogether."

  "Hmm, right, so what do you propose we do?" asked Lord Atkinson.

  "Me? We do?" asked Arthur shocked, realising that a Lord of the realm was asking for his advice - advice that could save or endanger a number of people. "Oh dear, I have to say I have no clear plan of action but, as I speak, I do keep having a picture of you standing up in the House of Lords where, I understand, you have a measure of legal immunity, and telling your complete story."

  "By jove, that sounds very cavalier and dashing" said Lord Atkinson, laughing. Then he became serious. "But might it not endanger us in some way?"

  "Well, they tried to endanger you when this was in a cone of silence, so to speak," said Arthur. "I daresay they could have shot you in your own home, here, if they'd wanted to but they didn't, by choice."

  "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right, old chap," said Lord Atkinson. "It all sounds a mite dangerous ... though, I must admit, it does get the blood boiling. A little bit of excitement, dear!"

  "Mmm, yes dear, it might be fun but I really do think we'd need to plan it properly, cover all our bases as they say," said Lady Atkinson. "I'd hate it to go off half-cocked and it just ends in a fizzer."

  "Absolutely, Lady Atkinson," said Arthur. "Now, my son's a lawyer in the law firm, Shaftsbury Burton ..."

  "By gosh, that's our law firm," said Lord Atkinson, interrupting, his palms on the arms of his chair, his elbows up as if he was about to launch himself somewhere. "Dashed good chaps, they are."

  "Yes, I believe they're quite a prestigious law firm," said Arthur, "and I feel we need someone good at advertising or public relations ... I'm not sure, but someone who can organise the publicity with the newspaper and television people properly."

  "Oh Charles, how about Lord Blunt?" asked Lady Atkinson. "Doesn't he own the Herald or the Mirror or something ... and that television station?"

  "Yes, you're right my dear!" said Lord Atkinson, still in launch position, eyes wide. "He's quite busy at the moment. He's buying up some American magazine or newspaper chain or something, but I'll certainly ask him. He may be a mite cynical about all this environmental, free-energy stuff, but he does love a good scrap, a good controversy, to spice up his papers."

  "Hmm," said Arthur, his mind seeing all sorts of possibilities. "So, what else do we need? We should start amassing some evidence - we could get copies of that, ah, what was it, Next magazine?"

  "Nexus magazine," corrected Lady Atkinson, helpfully.

  "Oh, Nexus, thank you," said Arthur. "And can we contact this Mr Bruce Cathie - would your son-in-law be able to organise these things?"

  "Why, yes Arthur, I'm sure he could," said Lord Atkinson.

  "In fact I know he could and, what's more, he'll be at it like a rat up a drain pipe, as he's wont to say!" said Lady Atkinson. "Oh, my gosh, of course, he's a publisher and will know others in the publishing world down under. This could spread like wildfire."

  "Oh whew!" said Arthur, feeling like he'd grabbed at a small branch and found it was the tail of a snake. What was he getting into, he wondered with dread. "So, we have the start of a battle plan - you talk to your people, as they say, I'll talk to mine and we could perhaps get together somewhere as soon as we can."

  "Right, Arthur, that's absolutely spiffing," said Lord Atkinson, leaping up with more vigour than his age would indicate. "Gosh dear, I suddenly feel like a teenager again!"

  "Ah, one thing we should mention, though it's probably quite obvious by now," said Lady Atkinson. "Given that we don't know who we're dealing with we must ask you not to talk to the police or any government agencies about this, till we're quite certain who we're dealing with."

  "Yes, yes, of course," said Arthur.

  "Probably best for all of us, we feel," said Lord Atkinson.

  "Yes, I understand completely," said Arthur, feeling as if they were children, keeping secrets from the adults. He stood up and had his hand shaken ruggedly and then Lady Atkinson had a turn with a strong and lengthy hug. She seemed to have tears in her eyes. She stood back a little with her hands on Arthur's shoulders as if she had something to say. He waited uncertainly, awkwardly.

  "Oh Arthur, oh Arthur," said Lady Atkinson as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I feel all choked up ..."

  "Yes, it's alright dear," said Lord Atkinson, obviously embarrassed by her tears.

  "Let me say this, please," said Lady Atkinson, not taking her eyes from Arthur's. "This probably sounds a bit weak or something ... I don't know what you've done here today, Arthur, but I feel so released, so clean, somehow. We've let the cat out of the bag, told a complete stranger, one we can trust, and it feels better, having it out. And now, at last, we have a plan of action, as you said, something to do."


  "Oh but ..." said Arthur, finding this all a little confronting.

  "No Arthur, I must say this," said Lady Atkinson, wiping her tears and smiling. "I'm not one to beat about the bush and what must be said must be said - by me here, by Lord Atkinson in the House, by all of us. We must have our secrets out, cleanse our souls, if you will, and with this battle plan ... I don't know, I've felt paralysed, helpless ever since we got those plans from John, three years ago, and more so since the burglary. I felt impotent, so useless and angry at that. Now, we all have something to do, a ray of hope."

  "Absolutely dear!" said Lord Atkinson, thumping Arthur on the back. "It's so dashed annoying to have the hope for a better world, of helping people, but no way to get it done ..."

  "And, most important of all, Arthur, Charles, is that none of this matters," said Lady Atkinson. An unexpected still fell on them. "It doesn't matter if this all ends in some stupid tragedy or just a whole lot of nothing or in some amazing success. We don't know how this will end up but, in the end, we're actually doing something that fires us all up. We're trying to make a difference and our hearts are on fire!"

  "Yes darling, you're so right," said Lord Atkinson, quietly, as if recalling something long forgotten. "I used to have such plans for this place, for my career, when I took over the title from my father. And then, somehow, the dreams faded. I hadn't realised how many of them I'd forgotten, till now. Ah Arthur, you have done more than you can imagine."

  "Oh, thank you, both of you. I don't quite know what to say," said Arthur. "I feel as if I've done so little ..."

  "And maybe you have done so little," said Lady Atkinson, interrupting. "Big or little, you've got us back to where we belong, back to a sense of ... I don't know ... a sense of the warrior rising, as if we can actually make a difference and see a better world through us being here. I don't know the words but I certainly have the feeling. I know I'm not just here to attend endless cocktail parties and fill in the space between my birth and death with cups of tea and nice chats. I now have a reason! I'm sorry, Arthur, I could go on! Let's get you back to your family and we'll all keep in contact and have a meeting with all our knights at the round table soon."

  "Yes, absolutely!" said Arthur, relieved that the emotional moment was over. He gathered his papers, put on his tradesman disguise and drove off with the butler, this time, beside him. His heart felt like popping and he couldn't get the silly smile off his face.

  "Oh Arthur, sir, you think you be going quite fast?" asked the butler solicitously.

  "Oh, oh dear," said Arthur, "just a bit excited, I daresay."

  "I understand sir, with today decisions," said the butler, "and if you like, I have idea."

  "You have?" asked Arthur and then remembered himself. "Look, I'm Arthur. And you are?"

  "My name Dominik, sir," said the butler.

  "Yes, pleased to meet you, Dominik," said Arthur, extending his hand awkwardly in the small van.

  "Yes, sir, I have idea. We just scare these people a little. Just a little."

  "Oh dear, what people are these?" asked Arthur, his concentration on the road wavering as he imagined bodily harm to someone, somewhere. He brought the van back on track and tried to focus on driving.

  "The ones who come here. They tell others, the good police, to go away," said Dominik.

  "Oh, you mean the MI5 chaps?" asked Arthur. "Why them?"

  "Well sir, we know there be lots of people doing this ... ah, how you say, um, involved?"

  "Yes, involved," said Arthur.

  "So lots involved but only these we know about, yet," said Dominik, with unshakeable logic.

  "Right, so we scare these particular MI5 men?" asked Arthur. "What exactly do you mean by scare?"

  "Ah, you leave that to me. That is my speciality!" said Dominik, smiling broadly.

  "Oh dear, I don't think we need to have any violence," said Arthur, shivering a little, trying to focus on the road as he imagined this bear of a man breaking necks and doing other dreadful things to people. "But how do we find these particular people?"

  "Ah, that easy!" said Dominik, winking at Arthur. "They come to my brother's club and Andrzej he check the list and know where they live. Easy!"

  "Oh dear, I'm not sure all this is necessary at all, Dominik," said Arthur, with the feeling he was trying to stop a steam roller by lying in front of it.

  "It safe too!" said Dominik, trying to twist in his seat towards Arthur, with little success. "We be, ah, how you say ... discrete. Nobody know we do scare thing and nobody connect to anybody else."

  "But, if they don't know who is scaring them, as you put it, they won't know why they're being scared and they won't know who to stop harassing," said Arthur, desperate to intervene with unassailable logic.

  "Mmm, yes, that problem, yes," said Dominik, looking out at the surrounding mist.

  "And, if they do know it's us scaring them, then they might go after us more determinedly," said Arthur, ramming his point home.

  "Yes, you right, Mr Arthur," said Dominik, thumping his fist on his knee with a grimace.

  All was quiet as Arthur negotiated his way through Croydon and he could tell, by the facial contortions and knee thumping, that Dominik was not letting his idea go. As Arthur manoeuvred into a parking space near his home, he really wanted to ease the pressure Dominik seemed to be putting on himself - diffuse the smoking cordite, so to speak.

  "Well Dominik, it has been a pleasure to meet you and thank you for your great idea of scaring people," said Arthur, offering his hand, which disappeared into Dominik's massive paw. "Leave it with me and I'm sure I will come up with a way round it - a way to make them listen."

  "Oh Mr Arthur, that be good if you think for it too," said Dominik, his face relaxing into a smile. "There many bad men out there and they should be stopped. I know these things."

  Arthur had the impression that Dominik had dealt with many "bad men" in his life and he knew, from the frowns and lip-chewing, that Dominik had not totally delegated the solution to him. He stepped out of the van as casually as he could, while his mind wanted him to flee as quickly as he could, from this maniacal bear beside him.

  "Mr Arthur, your bag!" said the grinning Dominik.

  "Oh, yes, of course," said Arthur, reaching to grab the proffered bag.

  His heart wanted him to dash across the twenty yards to his door, to escape the rather unnerving Dominik, and to fall into the welcome arms of his familiar home again. He sauntered, as best he could, and was about to ring the doorbell when a deadness, a dread, filled his stomach. Something was wrong. He just knew it, though he didn't know why he knew. The street, his house and all about him looked perfectly normal but something was amiss. He fumbled quietly in his pocket for his keys and opened the door into the small foyer slowly, very slowly.

  The Scottish Connection

  Tuesday, 13th March 2012, 11.04 a.m.

  Without Toby there to answer and filter her calls, Mary was in a less-than-generous mood when her phone screamed at her for the hundredth time that morning.

  "Mary Collins speaking," she said gruffly, while trying to complete yet another useless report to tell the chinless wonders at head office the most obvious things like the world was still going round, it's still ruled by idiots and her branch was still making a profit and should not be shut down. She was absorbed in trying to report enough fascinating hogwash to save her having to mention the fact that the Atkinson case had a bit of a lean to it and she didn't yet know how to straighten it up. And she missed Sam.

  "Hello Mary, how yer be?" came a Scottish brogue over the phone. "Are ye there ... Mary, are ye there?"

  "Oh my God, is that you Angus?" asked Mary, astonished. She had never heard her brother's voice on the phone before. Then she wondered why he was ringing. "What's happened? Is it Da or Ma?"

  "No, no, Mary, they're all fine. Well, as fine as they're ever goin' ta be," said Angus, chuckling. "It's about someone else ye don't know. They're from ..." The phone went quiet and she
could hear muffled conversation. "They're from New Zealand, they say."

  "What the hell are you doing in New Zealand?" asked Mary, her brain still at half-mast, still trying to construct the stupid report in front of her.

  "I'm not, I'm at home, in Dunfermline, at the Fordyce's place," he said. "They called me over thinkin' I might know yer number and I remembered ye left yer card, yer business card, with me when I promised to cal1 ye. And here I am!"

  "Right ... so, well, amazing to hear your voice, Angus," said Mary, giving the conversation her full attention now. "Actually, it's lovely to hear your voice, Angus. So what do these people want?"

  "Well, Mr Fordyce wants to have a word but I'll put these people on first. They're in some bother."

  "Hello Mary, it's John Maranui here and you probably don't have a clue who I am but Mr Lord at your firm has been very helpful to us over the last few years," said John.

  "Sam Lord? Do you know where he is?" asked Mary, her heart in her mouth at the mention of Sam's name.

  "You don't know where he is? Damn!" said John. "We were hoping he could help us out a bit here. We've tried but we just can't get through to Belinda's parents, the Atkinsons."

  "The Atkinsons ... Lord Atkinson?" asked Mary, feeling like a herd of coincidences was approaching.

  "Yes, he's Belinda's, my wife's father. His phone seems to be off the hook or something," said John. "We're holidaying here from New Zealand and our car's been nicked. We're not sure what to do next and somehow ended up talking to this Mr Fordyce here ..."

  "Right, the first thing is you can count on my family and the Fordyces for help and hospitality. I'll see to that," said Mary, interrupting and in strategic mode, her most enjoyable state. "My parents are grumpy old farts but they'd love to have a couple of Kiwis to stay. So, that's your immediate food and accommodation settled. Now, how about money - do you have any on you?"

  "Yeah, we have that and a few clothes. The buggers didn't get the lot!" said John, sounding lighter with Mary's organisation. "The main concern ... oh, thank you so much for your brilliant hospitality, really appreciated, Mary ... there were some things in the car, connected to the Atkinson's burglary that we're really worried about."