by KC McLaren
Jonathan was both shocked and taken aback by the candidness of the man. One who was in the highest position in the land and one of the most powerful men in the world. The PM had just openly admitted to believing in conspiracies in the shadows. An admission, if became public, would remove him from office.
For Jonathan it all came flooding back, the total frustration, the pent up anger. The grief of not just losing staff members, but who were friends, people who had helped build his company, people who relied on him, who trusted him. They died because he would not play ball with a government intent on taking away the one real thing he believed his country had above all others, true freedom. And he created the perfect way of doing it.
The PM looked at the still untouched whiskey glass placed on the table. He wasn’t a drinking man but picked it up and took a small sip. The whiskey felt good in his mouth, he replaced the glass onto the table and sat back into the sofa. Then linked his hands together and placed them on his lap. “This movement is well funded, backed by some very extremely powerful people in the UK and other countries. And when I say funded, I don’t mean millions or even hundreds of millions, I mean billions.”
A total silence descended on the room and Jonathan became lost in his own thoughts asking himself, so is Strickland behind all this? He could recall the arguments all those years back, ‘It’s in the public interest, its national security. If we don’t do it, our enemy’s will’.
He did not conceive ThornScope to be used to spy on every single aspect of the public, to manipulate financial markets, to bring governments down, friend or otherwise. To have ThornScope predict the outcome of possible terrorist threats with a 100% accuracy, then allow those actions to be carried out to introduce more governmental controls over its population. More power to the politicians and all in the name of freedom and securing our way of life. It was no conspiracy theory, he had written the simulation models and had seen at first hand the manipulation. No guns, no warfare, just absolute totalitarianism through the public’s and business reliance on their need for day-to-day technology. But there was more, way more, and the powers that be, didn’t understand the true potential of ThornScope.
He realised the PM was sitting there also silent, most likely in deep thought too. They were all looking at him, the deathly silent ambience forced its way through the beautiful surroundings. He was holding his whisky glass but could not remember picking it up. It was empty. It was time to place trust the Prime Minister.
“Mr Prime Minister, Alan, Sara,” turning to each one of them, “it’s been a long dreadful day. I’ve not seen Alan, my dear friend, confidante and mentor for over five years. I’m a little overwhelmed by all of it. Let’s start again. Mr Prime Minister, please ask your questions. I won’t interrupt.”
Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. He knew there was no point in taking things out on them. It served no purpose. It was the first time he had met the Prime Minister, and he wasn’t giving out the greatest of impressions to him so far.
The Prime Minister spoke. “Jonathan, I share your frustrations and I promise if you allow me, I will show I am nothing, nothing like David Strickland.”
Alan indicated his approval and nodded at Jonathan.
“I take it by now you’ve seen the news reports about Greece?”
“Yes, I have,” Jonathan replied.
“I have to ask, is there any way you any involvement in it? Or allowed a third party to gain some sort control over parts of ThornScope?”
Jonathan explained the best he could about the incident in the internet café and the proceeding chase, he added. “I’m confident, whoever it is, does not have full control over ThornScope, far from it. I can’t give you an idea of how they bypassed my security measures, and how far ThornScope is compromised.”
The Prime Minister looked worried. “Thank you. Is there any way that our own banking systems could be affected?”
“No, Sir. Not the same as Greece. The UK banking systems, especially the Bank of England, are protected in such a way which would mean ThornScope would have to be compromised at source. And on-site.”
“And the only person could bypass those security protocols on site would be you Jonathan?” the PM stated.
“Yes, Sir. But even then, it would be neigh on impossible to do,” replied Jonathan.
“But you agree, it’s possible?”
“Yes, Sir. I believe that is the precise reason I drawn out into the open. And we are not just talking about the UK, or banks. As you know, ThornScope became much more of a deterrent than anything Trident could be for us.”
Jonathan watched Sara’s eyes bulge out of their sockets.
“Could we not just switch the whole damn thing off?” she blurted out.
“No Sara, we can’t,” Jonathan replied. “It’s got fail-safe systems that even I don’t know about. And even if we had the remote possibility of flicking a switch off? Our technology infrastructure, including firewalls, would be open to every hacker or country that had a grudge against us. Including our allies. The American’s, along with the French and Germans who are pissed off at us because we would not, will not share ThornScope with them. In fact, the UK government has always been pissed off at me, because I would not share all of ThornScope with them either. And for good reason too.” Directing his last comments towards the PM.
“The only reason I’ve been pissed off with you Jonathan is that you left our country in real danger. I don’t think you comprehend what you left behind,” the PM replied a little agitated. “Yes, thank you very much, well-guarded, even our cousins over the Atlantic can no longer eves drop on our conversations. And even with Strickland losing the last election, he has never really left office.”
Jonathan understood the PM’s frustrations and said, “I had no choice, play ball or disappear. I left and took with me the true potential of ThornScope and out of the hands of dangerous politicians, present company accepted, Sir.”
“Thank you Jonathan,” the PM continued, “I suppose you going on your walkabout prevented a lot of what could have happened. But it was nothing more than a setback in real terms. It was the reason I came to Alan three years ago and asked for his help in finding you. After gaining his trust, he was open and honest about your arrangement, about you leaving your company and controlling ThornScope from afar. He was the one that set-up, financed everything we could to put in place to find and protect you. I couldn’t do it with inside the government.”
Jonathan was not happy about this piece of news. Alan spoke back. “Jonathan, hear him out, I trust him, as I trust you.”
Jonathan looked into Alan’s eyes, if he trusted this man, then he would too.
“What I’m about to tell you cannot go out of this room, I’ve already said enough to damage my position.” The Prime Minister looked at Sara. “And trust is all I have Sara. And unfortunately there are certain cracks throughout the UK government and indeed in our own security forces.”
The PM seemed to consider this for some time before saying to them, “Be that as it may, there will be no cracks in the information shared here today. Whatever I have shared or share, and however the hell else you people want to put it.” He leaned forward and looked again at Sara. “Bottom line? I will not only repudiate any statements made, I’ll prove them false. In doing so, run into the ground those who claimed I’ve made them. Are we clear?”
“Absolutely, Mr Prime Minister,” Sara said. Jonathan and Alan nodded.
Thomas Starling, The British Prime Minister, was one of those rare political breeds. A natural charismatic party leader with a conscious. He had fought a hard won battle to get elected and planned to keep his position regardless of personal cost. The UK political scene had become a minefield of battles against the growing government powers eroding the basic principles of its citizens’ rights to privacy and family life. The public face was business as usual, but the underlying current was much different. Jonathan watched the Prime Minster seemingly weighing up the pros and c
ons of what he was about to say. At least one thing, Jonathan thought, he couldn’t see any malevolence in his face.
“Conspiracy theory or not,” the PM said smiling with sincerity, “there has been a secretive arcane, almost esoteric movement gaining momentum in the UK for some years now. Possibly going back more than a decade or even longer, and well before ThornScope. They’ve been playing a waiting game. For the right moment in time to execute their plans. And Jonathan, it’s you that has become the catalyst. You put them off guard and on their back footing when you left. I suspect, like us, they have been trying to track you down for some time.”
“But if Sara had knowledge of how to contact me for some time, why wait for so long?” Jonathan asked.
“I can answer that Jonathan,” replied Alan. “I made you a promise I would not divulge your whereabouts if I ever found out. The PM, although reluctantly, agreed. Sara’s job if she found you was to do one thing and one thing only, protect you and keep you safe. We have suspected for a long while that others, not as friendly, wanted you.”
The PM fidgeted in his seat, “You have something else to add Mr Prime Minister, don’t you.” Jonathan asked.
“Yes I do. I knew they would force you out into the open, eventually. That’s why I asked for this meeting,” the PM said looking around the room, “so once they made their play, I could get to you first.”
Jonathan, whilst felt uneasy about it all, understood the reasons, but still felt sure the PM was holding aspects back.
“Let me explain more, Jonathan, and please keep an open mind. This may sound rather strange to all of you, especially coming from a Prime Minister. There have been many geniuses in the world that have changed the course of history of human kind, Aristotle, De Vinci, Galileo, Newton, Einstein and many more. And the one thing these people have all in common? They were decades, light-years ahead of their time. They all struggled with their present day surroundings. Trapped in the wrong place in time, seeing a future that any mere mortal couldn’t even dream about, let alone comprehend.”
It’s already sounding strange, Jonathan thought to himself, but played along.
“And,” the PM continued, “during history there have been men who have wanted to control, manipulate, overthrow and dominate their fellow human beings. The Romans, The British, The Nazis, extreme fanatical religious groups, all done through war and terror.”
“But we can forget about the traditional methods of war, the guns, the missiles the tanks. We are at war and we have been at war for a long time. Ever since Tim Berners invented the world-wide-web there have been men and woman in powerful positions looking to use technology to control their fellow human beings. Country against country waging war not on the battle field, but on the internet itself trying to become the world dominate leader and take control.”
“Then you came along Jonathan. The genius, and as geniuses before you, decades, light-years ahead of their time.” The PM paused and looked out of the windows towards the skyline of the city. “It’s a beautiful city isn’t it? The true capital of the modern free world, steeped in tradition and history. But all that is now threatened. This group, these people want more. They want to create a Federation of Europe with Britain being the dominate master. A one government British European Union controlled and dictated to by the rich and the elite. And if we don’t stop them? It will be a country where its citizens won’t have a right to vote and democracy will be ‘scaled back’ to the point of nonexistence. They are going to use you Jonathan to achieve their goals. Creating a fabric of society where every movement, every financial transaction, every individual choice is controlled and manipulated by ThornScope.”
“That, Mr Prime Minister, is one whacky conspiracy,” Sara said giggling nervously.
Jonathan rose from his seat and walked over to the window looking out at the City across the skyline. Yes, a beautiful city Mr Prime Minister, he thought to himself. He turned back around. “It’s not as whacky as you think Sara.” he said. “Mr Prime Minister, there is one thing you and this group do not understand though.” He walked back over to the coffee table, looked at the PM’s whiskey glass. “May I, Sir?” The PM nodded. Jonathan lifted the glass and drank the remains of the contents, wiped his mouth and placed the glass carefully back onto the table. “In the year 2000 there were some two-hundred million devices connected to the internet. Today, that number has increased to over ten-billion. Within the next few years, there will be approximately thirty-billion devices connected with over seven billion smartphones, tablets and computers in use. We’ve entered the age of hyperconnectivity.”
Jonathan looked around at everyone, he hesitated and said. “And in the wrong hands, ThornScope could quite possibly destroy the human race as we know it.”
Chapter 27 | The Two Towers
BRAD LOOKED UP AT THE TWO TOWERS of Pan Peninsula, they glowed in the cold air of the winter chilly night. The soft blue neon LED lights contrasted against the dark sky. He was standing two hundred yards away in a deserted undeveloped patch of land with small trees as coverage lining up along the edges. As he concentrated his thoughts, he mulled over the walk and reconnaissance he had already done around the towers. The first tower sat next to Millharbour road and the second taller one, sitting to the right, stood further back next to a water dock. This was the one he focused his attention on. From information received his target was on the thirty-ninth floor.
The two American’s, who earlier caused upset at the Canary Wharf tube station, had already joined up with him arriving in a black ford transit van. As instructed, they had driven up Millharbour Road, and just before the towers turned left on to a small side road which took them onto the patch of deserted land. They all stood just a few yards away from the van, the two American’s silent, smoking on their cigarettes.
Brad stared at the towers for a few more minutes admiring the architecture. He looked up at the thirty-ninth floor of the main tower where he could see a faint glow of light. Most of the other floors were in the dark, lights out. From his reconnaissance he could surmise that the surrounding area was not too busy. He turned back to the two men standing next to him, dropping the American accent and reverting to English, “Have you got everything I asked for, Marks?” He gave out a disdained look to the American who sported a large bruise around his left swollen eye.
“Yes, we’ve brought everything as requested. It’s in the transit van,” Marks replied gesturing to the parked van.
Brad smirked to himself looking at Mark’s face. Yes, he thought to himself, you should feel truly disgusted with yourself. He turned and stared at the other American, Roberts, who looked no better off. Apparently he received a dislocated right shoulder in the confrontation with the girl at the tube station and Marks had to do ad hoc medical attention and reset it.
“I hope that is still as painful as it looks, buddy,” he said sarcastically motioning his head towards Roberts’s shoulders. He felt livid with both of them. In his mind the situation was simple, the idiots had misjudged and underestimated the girl at Canary Wharf. It was even worse considering he had given them standing orders to follow and, specifically not to engage Jonathan Beckett. Amateurs. What was the point in having another backup plan if they couldn’t follow simple instructions? And to think, they were former US Navy Seals, for Christ sakes. Ready to lead. Ready to follow. Never quit? Their seal pals would have a field day with them. Mind you, he thought on, Roberts had already been disowned. The high life of men for hire had made them soft, but he didn’t have time to deal with them now. So he put the thoughts of any punishment to the back of his mind.
He walked over to the van and opened the side panel door, paused and turned back to them. Brad looked at Roberts and said in a distinct calm tone, “You fuck up like that again? I will slit your throat from ear to ear. And, Marks…” He left the sentence to hang. Before getting in, he took one more look at both of them shaking his head in disgust. The two American’s looked at each other but had the good sense not to reply
and followed him into the van. Brad looked through the gear they had brought with them.
He had known Marks for several years and had used him frequently for his operations. An expert in technology and communications. “I see you’ve brought your tech toys along with you, Marks.”
“It’s what you pay me for, it’s a tech toy world.” Marks replied smiling.
“Yes, and I pay you very well. I don’t pay you to get into stupid situations that threaten my operation. Next time you fuck up I’ll make sure you end up in a Taliban training camp. End of conversation.” He looked through the various assortment of tactical equipment Marks had brought. At least one thing he could never complain about, Marks always came prepared for a full-on frontal assault. He picked up what he wanted including a pair of night vision goggles and flash bangs. Then took off the leather jacket and replaced it with a tactical vest then put his comms in place. “Get geared up,” he said looking at Marks.
Roberts bent down to get his gear sorted. Brad thought, like hell will you! He moved quickly grabbing hold of Roberts’s shoulder digging and squeezing his fingers deeply. Roberts fell to his knees the pain excruciating and visible on his face. But he did not yell out nor did he try to extricate himself from the powerful grip, instead he looked up at Brad with a determined gritty stare.
“You’ll be a liability on what I have to do now. Get the comms up and working. You’re staying here, I need you for something else anyways.” Brad said letting go of him. “When we come out, I don’t know if we will come out hot or taking a stroll, either way you better be God damned ready.” And I’ve got another surprise for you, he thought to himself, but that will come later.
