We Have Lost The President

by Paul Mathews

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’re more important than some stupid —’

  Howie was interrupted by a painful kick to his right kidney. He hadn’t been paying attention. Oskar had sprung to his feet and was now on the attack. Howie crumpled to the floor. Three seconds later, he felt another hard kick. This time to his left buttock. He rolled away from Oskar, before his right buttock came under attack.

  As Howie lay clutching his aching left buttock with his non-throbbing left hand, Oskar grabbed Britt around the neck again and pulled her up. ‘I’m escorting this interfering little bitch from the premises. And nobody is going to stop me!’

  ‘You’re hurting me!’ croaked Britt. ‘I can’t breathe, I can’t —’

  ‘Oskar!’ yelled the president. ‘Have you completely lost your senses?!’

  ‘No!’ roared Oskar, a manic look of world domination in his eyes. ‘It’s about time we treated journalists like the dirt-digging scum they are!’

  Martha looked horrified. ‘I’m going to call security!’

  Oskar dragged Britt along the ground. ‘Yes, security. The most sensible thing you’ve said all afternoon.’

  Martha shook her head. ‘I meant for you, Oskar.’

  The president nodded. ‘Yes, Martha. My brother’s dangerously out of control. He needs to be restrained. And possibly sedated.’

  Oskar was so shocked at hearing these words, he released his grip on Britt. She was too breathless to move more than a few centimetres. So Howie dived on top of her to prevent Oskar taking hold of her again. Howie held his breath and waited for more blows to rain down on his body. But they didn’t. Instead, Oskar just stood there, searching for sympathy in the faces of his colleagues.

  ‘Is that what you really think of me?’ asked Oskar, sounding hurt.

  ‘I’ll tell you what I think – you’re a bloody lunatic!’ shouted Daisy. ‘I’d rather have Viktor Maxim running the country than you.’

  Zayn nodded. ‘Sounds like Maxim would be running the country if Oskar got the top job.’

  The two vice presidents who had been sitting either side of Oskar stood up and walked towards where Howie and Britt were lying on the floor. They offered their hands and pulled Howie and Britt to their feet. Then they looked at Oskar and shook their heads in disgust.

  The president broke the silence. ‘Yes, Martha. Bleep Mr Bogdanowic. Ask him to escort my brother from the building, confiscate his security pass and alert staff that he isn’t to enter the palace again until I say so.’

  ‘Call yourself a brother?’ shouted Oskar, striding towards his sibling. ‘You promised I could have this chance.’ He moved his face to within a centimetre of Jan’s. ‘You betrayed me!’

  The president didn’t flinch. ‘I’m sorry to say, you betrayed yourself.’

  Oskar flung an arm in the air. ‘Fifteen years I’ve waited for this!’

  ‘The Pierogi Pact was never a formal deal, Oskar. We’d drunk three bottles of vodka.’

  ‘I’d accepted that years ago! But then last week, you suddenly turn round – completely out of the blue – and say you might not be standing again.’ Oskar was pleading now. ‘You gave me hope. Dear brother, don’t take that hope away from me. Just because I lost my temper.’ He pointed at Britt. ‘You’d lose your temper if a bloody journalist came in here, accusing you of improper relationships!’

  Daisy stood up. ‘You didn’t just lose your temper. You lost all bloody control, man!’ She pointed at Britt. ‘You assaulted her!’

  ‘W-w-what?’ stuttered Oskar. ‘Don’t talk such —’

  ‘Not only that,’ interrupted the president. ‘You’ve indulged in an unwise affair with a young woman.’

  Oskar opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘Shut up, I’m talking now,’ snapped the president. ‘This is a woman who, when she’s got over the shock of you casting her aside like yesterday’s newspapers, could very well sell her story to the media. Before or after the election – it wouldn’t matter – you’d be finished.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘And thanks to Miss Pointer, we know Viktor Maxim is aware of this affair. He placed the girl here so some middle-aged fool with his brains in his trousers could compromise himself and his position.’

  Oskar hung his head and muttered something under his breath.

  The president’s tone was firm. ‘If you have something to say, Oskar, say it now.’

  ‘I said don’t worry. I can make sure the girl doesn’t talk.’

  The president didn’t often get angry. But this was one of those rare occasions. ‘You can “sort” it, can you? You’ve definitely been spending too much time with Viktor Maxim.’

  ‘No. That’s not true.’

  ‘You may be my brother, but you really are an idiot.’

  ‘I’m not an idiot!’ shouted Oskar defiantly.

  ‘That’s exactly what you are. Don’t you see? You can’t terminate your relationship with Viktor Maxim so easily. You could never be sure he wouldn’t leak your affair to the media.’ Jan held his head in his hands. ‘You were always the one I wanted to hand over the reins of power to – if anything happened to me or I changed my mind about a third term. You knew that. And you still went ahead with your affair. And you fraternised with Viktor Maxim and goodness knows how many others.’

  ‘It was just Maxim,’ mumbled Oskar.

  ‘Well, no it wasn’t, was it? There was Maxim’s number two – Petra Putinov. I can see now why you were so insistent on me meeting her, before I told you I was thinking of stepping down. A wide-ranging discussion about British business you said it would be. But it focused very quickly on the subject of British military contracts. And what Maxim International could do, outside of official channels, to secure them. It wasn’t subtle. That was all Mr Maxim’s idea, wasn’t it?’

  Oskar couldn’t even bring himself to look at his brother.

  ‘Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t taken a penny from that man. We’re brothers. I’ll know if you’re lying to me.’ Jan didn’t get any response. ‘Tell me!’ he shouted, so loudly it echoed around the room for a couple of seconds.

  Oskar’s voice was cracking. ‘It was just … some … consultancy expenses.’

  The president was sounding calm again. ‘I’m disappointed in you. Not just as a politician. Not just as a vice president in my Government.’ He sighed. ‘I’m disappointed in you as a brother.’

  Oskar’s face was pale now. As blood began to drip from his nose, it made it look even paler. He opened his mouth, as if about to deliver one last appeal for mercy. Then he closed his eyes, wiped the blood away with his sleeve and bowed his head. He was a defeated man.

  Martha pressed a button on her bleeper and then stepped forward. ‘Mr Bogdanowic will be here very shortly.’

  Oskar started to cry. No one spoke, as his sobs echoed around the room. They weren’t tears of remorse. They were tears of self-pity. And everybody knew it.

  Within sixty seconds of Martha sending her bleep, Bogdan had arrived.

  ‘You have emergency?’ panted Bogdan.

  ‘Yes,’ confirmed Martha. ‘Mr Bogdanowic, please remove Vice President Oskar Polak from the building and retrieve his security pass on the way out. He’s not to return until the president tells you.’

  Bogdan looked confused. Then he pointed at Oskar. ‘You want me to remove him, chief?’

  Martha nodded. ‘That’s right. It’s best if you don’t ask any more questions.’

  Bogdan noticed Britt. He stared at her for a few seconds but said nothing. Then he turned to Oskar and expanded his considerable chest. ‘Vice President Polak, you come with me.’ Bogdan gripped Oskar’s arm and led him out. As the door closed, there was a buzz of relief around the room.

  ‘Now old misery guts is out the way, I’ve got a question!’ shouted Zayn.

  ‘What’s that?’ sighed Martha.

  ‘Are we carrying on with the nomination stuff? Or is Jan the man going to stand for a third term? If he’s not, we’d better have that
vote.’

  ‘Hang on!’ shouted a charcoal suit. ‘If we are having a vote, I want to put my name forward now!’

  ‘Me, too,’ added a granite suit.

  Martha intervened. ‘I’m afraid nominations are closed. You all had your chance. The rules are quite clear on that point.’

  The vice presidents looked at each other, with expressions of concern and surprise.

  Zayn leaned his elbows on the table. ‘So, Jan, my man – what’s the plan?’

  ‘Please don’t say you’re standing down,’ pleaded Daisy.

  Howie held his breath. In his mind, he prayed to the gods who’d given him such a bad time lately – please, please give him a break. Let the answer be ‘I’m standing again’. Howie didn’t want to be Zayn Winner’s spokesperson. That would be a nightmare job.

  The president hesitated. Then he turned to Britt. ‘Will you report what I say in your newspaper tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course, Mr President. I wouldn’t be doing my job otherwise.’

  The president smiled politely. ‘Then, if you wouldn’t mind, Miss Pointer, I would prefer that you left the room.’

  Howie could see Britt was bruised and battered. But she wasn’t beaten. ‘If I leave this room now, the story on the front page of tomorrow’s Republican will feature your brother, Mr President. It will be a first-hand account of how he assaulted me at a presidential nomination meeting.’

  Howie grimaced. That was the kind of front-page story that gave him sleepless nights for weeks.

  The president sighed. ‘I see. And if I allow you to stay, what will happen to that particular story?’

  Britt smiled. ‘It will be forgotten forever. And replaced by a story about your political future.’

  ‘Very well,’ replied the president. ‘Then in the interests of this Government, and of the Republican Party, I will allow you to stay.’ He raised a finger. ‘But on one condition – that after this meeting, you, Howie and I sit down and agree what exactly is being printed in The Republican tomorrow.’

  Howie wasn’t sure if Britt would agree to being told what could and couldn’t go in her story. She was a journalist with principles. And Howie would never have asked for such a favour in a million years. This could be a tough decision for her.

  Britt’s response was lightning quick. ‘As it’s such an important issue for the future of this nation, and to ensure everything is one hundred per cent accurate, I am happy to agree to that condition. The story will confirm your decision on whether you will be standing for a third term – including a direct quote from yourself.’

  Howie nodded to the president. ‘Sounds like a fair deal to me, Jan. I’m happy with that.’

  The president smiled. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Miss Pointer. But there’s nothing in the constitution to say I can’t speak to the media about the Independence Day announcement before I make it. So we have a deal.’

  Martha turned to the president. ‘Then tell us your decision, Jan.’

  The president clasped his hands. ‘I have always wanted to lead this great country for as long as I am physically, and mentally, able to do so.’ He paused. ‘But a few weeks ago, I received the most extraordinary offer. And it caused me to reflect on my future.’

  ‘Oh, no! Don’t tell us you’re going, Jan!’ shouted Daisy, tears forming in her eyes. ‘Everyone will be gutted if you do. Not just us, but the citizens, as well. And what about the Americans? They’ll go crazy. They’ll probably send the royals back over here, as a punishment.’

  The president smiled. ‘If I was to accept it, you wouldn’t need to worry about that happening. It was the Americans who made me the offer.’

  ‘Have they offered to make you a movie star, Jan?’ asked Zayn, with a stupid grin.

  The president laughed. ‘No, they haven’t. The offer was in relation to a major project they’ve been working on.’

  ‘What project?’ asked Daisy.

  ‘Allow me to explain. It’s a huge, self-contained offshore community in American territorial waters that will bring together the brightest minds from around the globe.’ The president began pacing up and down. ‘The Americans call it “State 51”. But it will be much more than that. It will be a community which will look for new solutions to some of the global problems facing the New States, and its international partners, in the twenty-first century and beyond.’

  Howie didn’t want to say it, but State 51 sounded like one of those desert islands where Bond villains were always hiding. With one exception – it would be a place where the good guys, and not the bad guys, lived. At least, that would be the theory.

  ‘Why’s it offshore, Mr President?’ asked Britt.

  ‘I hadn’t planned on this being a question and answer session. But … I suppose I owe you all a full explanation.’ He stopped pacing up and down. ‘It’s offshore for two reasons. The first is security. The second is space – the environment will be able to expand, or contract, over time.’

  Howie had read about the idea of an ocean-based community. It had never really appealed to him – he felt seasick if he spent too long under the water-spray. But he could see the advantages. As well as offering security and space, it wouldn’t be difficult to construct. Deep-sea structures weren’t anything new. The energy industry, for example, had been using them for years. Then his brain made a connection. ‘Has this environment got anything to do with oil platforms, Jan?’

  The president nodded. ‘Yes. Eastern Oil is providing the technology – it will be a network of interconnected platforms, much like they use in the oil industry. But it will be adapted to suit our needs. In fact, their chairwoman is also putting some of her own money into the project. Along with a few others.’

  Things were finally starting to make sense. The meetings with Sky Eastern had been about State 51 – not test drilling in UK waters.

  The president continued. ‘I’ve been in discussions with the American ambassador – who has been my main point of contact on this – and Sky Eastern. In fact, the three of us have just returned from an overseas trip.’

  ‘So that’s where Clinton Stackshaker has been,’ whispered Martha to Howie.

  ‘Where were you?’ asked Zayn. ‘Hollywood? The Big Apple?’

  ‘I can’t tell you where I was. For the simple reason that I don’t know myself. It was somewhere out at sea – a mini version of State 51 that the Americans have created. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. And I did.’ He took a breath. ‘It was remarkable. The only problem was, the state-of-the-art private aircraft which got us there developed a fault after landing. Then we had quite a storm. It knocked out the comms links for 36 hours. So we were stuck there for some considerable time.’

  ‘We thought you’d been kidnapped,’ shouted Daisy. ‘The cameras buggered up, so no one knew what the hell had happened.’

  The president looked at Vice President Ivan Bonn. ‘My apologies. But to ensure I left the palace undetected via one of the evacuation tunnels, I disabled the security cameras with the help of my auto-tech friend, Brian.’

  Ivan looked astonished. ‘Brian is top Tech. Must have reprogrammed. How? Needs Tech knowledge.’

  ‘Yes. I had a little bit of training from a person with rather a lot of auto-tech know-how. But I can’t say more than that.’

  Howie knew who – Olga Frik. All three people on Maurice Skeet’s list had had a part to play in this bizarre story of a missing president and his scheming vice-presidential brother. But, unluckily for Maurice, he wouldn’t be the one getting a story out of it. The irony of it all made Howie laugh silently in his head. It couldn’t happen to a nicer journalist.

  ‘Cameras still down,’ confirmed Ivan. ‘System won’t restart.’

  The president looked embarrassed. ‘Ah, that’s my fault. Brian was programmed to restore the system on my return. That was meant to be the early hours of Tuesday morning. But don’t worry. Once Brian knows I’m back, he’ll restore everything to its former glory.’ He smiled. ‘He’s a very clever little r
obot.’

  Howie was just about to suggest that Brian be given an extended period of shutdown as a reward, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  ‘Why all the secrecy?’ asked Britt.

  ‘The Americans were very clear – no one could know about my trip. Oskar and the First Lady were aware that I was considering not standing for a third term. I told them both a few days ago. But I swore them to secrecy.’

  That explained the First Lady’s and Oskar’s indifference to the president’s disappearance. They must have assumed it was all part of the plan. And the president’s possible third-term U-turn must have been the subject of the private conversation between him and the First Lady at the weekend – the one she wasn’t willing to discuss with Howie. Yes. And it also explained Oskar’s rush to get back from his Paris defence summit. As well as the swift termination of his affair. All the pieces of the jigsaw were clicking into place now.

  The president continued. ‘I was extremely impressed with what I saw. And I had a lot of time to think – and talk – about it while we were stranded there. And I’ve come to a decision …’

  Everyone in the room held their breath.

  ‘I am going to accept the Americans’ offer to be the leader of State 51. To be the person in charge of its policies, research programme and long-term strategy. They will announce it at eleven o’clock tomorrow. At the same time that the new Republican Party candidate steps onto the palace balcony to declare themselves.’

  Whispered conversations began to break out around the table. They were quickly silenced when the president clapped his hands together. ‘That’s enough from me. Time for the vote, I think. The nominees were Oskar and who else?’

  All eyes in the room turned to Zayn Winner. The vice president pointed both index fingers at himself and grinned. ‘You’re looking straight at him, Jan, baby!’

  The president nodded. ‘I see. Well, I’m glad that someone was brave enough to put themselves forward. And I’m pleased to see it’s someone who’s used to being in the public eye.’ The president turned to Martha. ‘It’s over to you.’

  Martha stepped forward. ‘So … all those in favour of Oskar Polak becoming the Republican Party candidate, please raise your hands.’