Chapter 46. Pass codes please
Prime Minister Lex McGivern sat at the end of a long mahogany boardroom table in Cabinet Office Briefing Room ‘A’. (C.O.B.R.A). ‘Emergency COBRA meeting’ was a dramatic sounding phrase that the British press liked using to conjure up images of the Prime Minister and his COBRA Crew getting together, dressing up as snakes and hatching plans to save the world in superhero-like fashion. In reality however, the acronym COBRA merely referred to the room in which these meetings were held, not any fixed group of people that this fantasy gang consisted of. Lex had called two COBRA meetings during his time in office. Well two official ones anyway. At that time, the extended fire-fighter strikes and the London petrol-price demonstrations seemed like a big deal. Though in comparison to what was on his plate currently, they seemed like minor inconveniences in hindsight.
Director General of the Security Service, Steve Towerbridge adjusted the volume of the speaker on the telephone that was currently connecting Downing Street to both Eduardo’s Estate on Ducie Island and Joe McKenna’s office at the Two Steps Forward Institution. This 3-way conference call begun with Steve executing the regular security protocol.
- Passcodes please Joe….
Steve hit the button that temporarily cut the connection to Ducie, preventing Eduardo from hearing the passcode said by Joe.
- Whiskey, Victor, Alpha, Uniform, Papa, Three, Seven, Oscar, Victor, Alpha.
- Thank you Steve. Eduardo….
Steve hit the button to patch the Ducie line back into the call.
- Whiskey, Victor, Alpha, Uniform, Papa, Three, Seven, Oscar, Victor, Alpha.
- Thank you both. I have the Prime Minister with me here and we are alone. Can you confirm that you are both alone and in secure privacy.
Both men confirmed.
- Right, good.
Steve was like a robot. He motored on without even a pause in acknowledgement of the gravity or pressure of the situation
- Eduardo. You initiated this call, as you said there had been developments in Ducie?
There was a brief pause and a crackle on the line. The Prime Minister looked at Steve, momentarily concerned that the connection had dropped before Eduardo’s gruff voice dropped in.
- Yes. We have developments…. We’re currently holding residents 12 and 32 at the Estate.
Steve consulted his manifest sheet before responding.
- Eduardo, can you confirm that we’re talking about Jennifer Martinez and Lucas Medina.
- Yes. Uhhu. Confirmed.
- And they are in the Estate with you now?
- Yes, sir. 3 of the support team are currently holding them in the cellar.
The Prime Minister muttered an obscenity of disbelief to himself, before interrupting.
- Eduardo, it’s Lex….
- Er…yes…Hello Sir.
- Are you telling me that 2 Ducie residents are now aware of the presence of the support team on the island?
- They are currently in the custody of the support team in the cellar of the Estate, Sir, yes.
- How the bloody hell did you let this happen?
- We took them in Sir. Our team took them into custody when they were spotted roaming suspiciously outside the Estate.
- You took them in, because they were outside the Estate?
The Prime Minister banged his fist on the table and threw himself back in his chair, uttering the word ‘Shit’ with such venom that even the usually robotic Steve seemed a little unnerved by his reaction.
- It was 3am in the morning Sir, and they were armed?
- And where the well did they get arms from on the island Eduardo?
- Home made, self-fashioned. A stick…sharpened, Sir. The cameras picked them up and we feared an attack was imminent.
The Prime Minister took his frustrations out on the table a second time with his fist, causing the phone to scoot across the table, the line crackling momentarily.
- They’re doped up to the fucking eyeballs with CROP Eduardo! They shouldn’t be questioning a bastard thing!
Steve quickly interrupted, keen to keep the conversation on course.
- Eduardo, how are the captured residents behaving? Are they physically resisting the support team?
- Initially yes. They fought and tried to escape when they woke up. One of the support team suffered a minor blow to the head, but the residents have now been secured with rope and are complying with us.
The Prime Minister had feared something like this all along. It was only really a matter of time before something went wrong. The whole project was flimsy. Too fragile. Too open to things going wrong. He’d know it. But he had been blinded by the potential legacy that might come with success.
Ducie Page 47
