by Mark Radford
The revelation by the mysterious friend gave Carl incredible relief at the news that Selena was alive but it wasn’t enough.
‘Just who are you?’ He demanded to know.
‘We do need to meet with you as a matter of urgency because we will need to step up our campaign to save her.’ The friend stated, avoiding the question.
‘Where do you want us to meet?’ Carl enquired.
‘Look out your window.’ The friend responded.
Carl leant over to the telephone unit and switched from the receiver to speaker phone. He got up from his seat and walked over to the window. He peered out. He saw a man looking up at his window, mobile phone held to his ear and the man acknowledged Treyer with a wave before speaking into the phone, but Carl could not hear the words on his line.
‘Is that you down there?’ he spoke in confusion.
‘No, it just my man Cousins confirming visual contact. Do please leave your office now and go to him. He will bring you to our headquarters where I will be waiting.’
‘What’s so urgent about this meeting?’ Carl hesitantly asked, not understanding their need for him.
‘We believe that General Skara may within a few hours commit another murder and we want you here with us to witness it.’ The proposition was tempting.
‘You have my full co-operation. Do I need to bring an arrest warrant?’
‘It is not that simple, my friend. Remember, we are up against General Skara and his soldiers who will vigorously defend him to their last drop of blood. We are playing a dangerous game here and if our plan comes off, it should avoid the need for bloodshed.’ Carl realised the peril of the mission. ‘Time is ticking away, Mr Treyer. Please do not delay your departure any longer.’ The friend instructed him.
‘Okay, I am on my way.’ Carl turned away from the window, hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket from his chair. He left the office, a chain of events set in motion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
General Skara’s car arrived at the woodlands destination after learning that Sir Ivor Wainwright was not at home, but they were informed of his whereabouts. A posse of soldiers were left at the mansion to ensure that none of Wainwright’s staff were in a position to warn him of General Skara’s pursuit, but the majority of Unit Four were already at the woodlands, ready and primed for action. Skara gave his instructions and all were clear on their duties. On his order, the unit made their way to their positions, keeping the noise of the jeeps to a minimum. Once in place, the engines were switched off and all became quiet. It was now a matter of waiting as the unit watched the countryside around them from their positions on the edge of the woods. It was nearly forty minutes before the first stirring was heard. In the near distance, the sounds of barking dogs followed by a bugle call put the unit on alert. On the horizon, a tired fox came into view over the hilltop, running for its life. The unit started procedures with the foot soldiers branching out into the field. They took steps to allow the fox to pass by them and then they closed ranks; a front line going forward with the hounds now on the scene with its party of riders. The fox limply made it into the woods when the jeeps started up and drove into the field. The onslaught of noisy vehicles and soldiers firing their guns into the air frightened the hounds into a retreat towards their masters and the riding party stopped in their tracks, some of their horses also in distress at the noise. The riders allowed the military presence to get nearer to them until it stopped a short distance away. General Skara got out of a jeep and walked toward the riding party.
‘What the bloody hell are you playing at?’ demanded an angry elderly Wainwright to the invaders, as he sat on his horse, dressed in his hunting gear of red jacket, black trousers and black riding hat.
‘I could ask you the same question,’ responded Skara in a calm orderly manner.
‘You are trespassing on my land and have no right to barge in like this.’ An aggrieved Sir Ivor blasted Skara verbally.
‘You have committed an illegal act in holding a fox hunt Sir Ivor,’ rebuked the General in defence. ‘We have every right to interfere in such matters.’
‘Don’t be so patronising General. We have an agreement on this.’
‘Not anymore.’ Skara sharply informed him.
‘Is this anything to do with the attack on your men yesterday?’ Wainwright queried, his anger subdued at Skara’s forfeit of their agreement. The other riders became a little fearful of their precarious position should the illegality stick.
‘Finally, you are talking sense Sir Ivor,’ he responded sarcastically and applauded him. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Are you are implying that I had something to do with it?’ Wainwright clearly not impressed at Skara’s assumption.
‘Get down off your horse and we will discuss it honourably.’ He ordered Sir Ivor. The man duly obliged and got down. He walked over to Skara.
‘General, you are making a grave mistake in accusing me. A word to the President…’
‘Yes, the President,’ he rudely interrupted Sir Ivor’s words. ‘It is precisely why I am here. The President had received a disc from the group who carried out the attack asking for me to be removed from power on murder charges. They call themselves the Black Phantoms.’
Wainwright laughed.
‘General, just because I used to play polo for a team called the Black Phantoms, it doesn’t make me a conspirator.’
‘It does with your connection to the President. Who could possibly have smuggled in the disc to him without the usual distribution channels being involved?’
‘You are highly delusional General, to think that I had something to do with yesterday’s attack. You have completely lost the plot.’ Sir Ivor sneered. He started to walk away from Skara.
‘Don’t you insult and turn away from me,’ his rage unleashed. He grabbed Sir Ivor by the jacket and pulled him around to face him once more.
‘Get off me, you bloody lunatic.’ He shouted aggressively and pulled Skara’s hand off his jacket, not afraid of the General or his soldiers nearby. ‘I have a good mind to report you this moment to President Masterson.’ He declared with defiance. He put his hand into his inside pocket and pulled out his mobile. He started to dial the number. General Skara immediately pulled his gun from his holster and thrust it into Wainwright’s face, much to the horror of the other riders.
‘Are you resisting arrest for treason?’ He spoke with bitter menace. Sir Ivor became terrified.
‘Look let’s be calm about this,’ he nervously said and switched off his phone. ‘I won’t call the President but believe me General, I had nothing to do with yesterday’s hostilities.’ Skara debated whether to believe Wainwright or the conviction of his own thoughts that Sir Ivor was pulling the strings of the traitor in his camp. He withdrew the gun from Wainwright’s face and brought it down. He was reserving judgement until he was more certain. Besides, it could prove advantageous to keep Wainwright alive.
‘Get out of here,’ he ordered sternly, giving them a reprieve from charges on the fox hunt.
‘Thank you, General. You are an honourable man.’ Sir Ivor spoke, thankful that sanity won the day. He started to make his way back towards his horse as the General watched. A mobile phone rang and Skara realised it was his own. He pulled it out and answered it.
‘General, remember what Sir Ivor said to you. One word to the President and you are a dead man.’ Skara dropped his phone, the shock etched on his face being overtaken by the knowledge that he had been double crossed. He swiftly pulled the gun back up towards Wainwright. Screams from the riders alerted Sir Ivor to the danger and before he had a chance to turn back to Skara, a shot pierced the air and Wainwright slumped to the ground.
‘It’s a setup.’ General Skara bellowed out to his men. ‘We are being watched by Wainwright’s men. Find them.’ He screamed the order and picked up his phone from the ground as his unit started to head for the trees, the riders galloped off to save their lives with the hounds following close at their heels. Skar
a listened at the earpiece of his phone. The line was still open.
‘General Skara, I give you my congratulations. You have just given me filmed evidence of Sir Ivor Wainwright’s murder. You are caught.’ The caller informed him before the line went dead.
Skara screamed aloud in rage at his enemies wherever they were hiding. ‘You won’t get away with this. I will rip out your hearts,’ he promised. How had he allowed himself and his men to fall into a trap so easily? The tide was slowly turning against him in the battle for power.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The rugged face of Commander Jack Denham, his blond hair flowing to the front with a side parting, switched off the telephone call he had just made to General Skara, with a quick push of a computer key. He watched the man continue his rant against their intrusion from the many television monitors on the wall.
‘Poor guy, if only he knew that we were watching him from this control room, using Spynet.’ He enthused. Spynet was a sophisticated British military satellite that beamed pictures as close as the person standing next to you with clear clarity.
‘It doesn’t change the fact that you tricked Skara into committing the murder.’ Carl protested.
‘Did I actually tell him, Carl, to shoot Sir Ivor?’
‘No, you didn’t but you knew his frame of mind.’
‘I saw the mind of a madman who’s losing his stranglehold on society after our attack yesterday.’
‘General Skara would argue in a court of law that he was provoked into killing Sir Ivor under duress and will use the phone conversation as evidence.’
‘You amaze me, Carl Treyer. Why are you defending him? He’s a born murderer.’
‘I’m just doing my job.’ He reminded Denham of his position as a MCO. ‘Sure he deserves to be put on trial for the atrocities he’s committed, but this won’t be enough to do it.’
‘We’ll let the people of the country decide that, as this will go…’ their conversation was interrupted by an announcement.
‘OPERATION CHECKMATE, READY TO GO,’ the voice boomed through the speakers as several TV monitors switched to a different location.
Commander Denham leaned toward his computer and activated another key.
‘Good luck, everyone. It’s a green light for action,’ he instructed, and the figures on the TV screens started their advance on the building ahead of them. The personnel in the room rallied around Denham at the control desk in silence, watching the action unfold before them.
‘What’s happening now?’ Carl asked.
‘We are attacking General Skara’s headquarters.’
The quietness of the atmosphere pierced by the bursts of machine guns fire as the first of the enemy was engaged in combat. A shrill sound overhead, parts of the building’s walls suddenly blown to smithereens, executed with precision. The Black Phantoms made their advantage count as they picked off Skara’s men, ill-prepared for the unexpected brutal assault on their stronghold. Swiftly, the Black Phantoms stormed the building, striding towards their destination. They encountered little resistance from Skara’s soldiers who were not quick enough off the mark when it came to predatory skills. Seven years of non-combat had severely weakened the resolve of the Animals Protection Army.
Carl Treyer found it difficult to watch the stomach-churning scenes shown via in built cameras and transmitters on the Phantoms personnel helmets and linked to Spynet because he had not experienced first hand the rigours of war. He was only a student when the battle for democracy started and before he was old enough to enlist for battle, it was over. Military rule enslaved them. Carl’s attention was suddenly drawn to the monitors showing General Skara who seemed distracted. He retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket.
‘Commander,’ Carl alerted Denham quickly and pointed to the General. Denham switched on sound feedback.
‘How could this be happening?’ Skara sounded shocked. The news had reached him of the assault on the headquarters. ‘Do what you can to fend off the aggressors and call in reinforcements. We are on our way.’ The General immediately terminated the call and called his unit in on the radio.
Commander Denham switched the sound back to the battle and activated his microphone.
‘Skara has just been informed of our assault and is calling for back-up. Find the informer and silence him. Time is now running short.’
‘INSTRUCTIONS UNDERSTOOD. TIDY-UP SHORTLY TO BE IMPLEMENTED.’ A Phantom soldier replied. The soldiers quickened their pace.
They scurried down flights of stairs and reached the underground tunnels. The Phantoms took off in different directions; they needed maximum efficiency on this mission. The lead party came to a steel door and one soldier pulled back the bolt that held it closed. He opened the door and shone a light into the room.
Carl gasped with relief as the pictures on the television monitors showed Selena in the room, alive but looking haggard. She was frightened.
‘Don’t be scared, Selena. We are the rescue party. Are you okay to go?’ A Phantom asked her. She nodded and was helped to her feet. ‘Here, put this on.’ A soldier said and handed her an earpiece. She inserted it into her ear as they made their way for the exit.
‘Are you ready to talk to her Carl?’ Denham asked.
‘Yes.’ The emotion choked him up.
‘Go ahead then.’ Denham spoke, the communication link active once more.
‘Selena, can you hear me?’
‘Carl, is that you?’
‘Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.’ The sweet sound of her voice soothed him after the anguish of having her taken from him. She started sobbing as she heard his voice.
‘I’ll give you both a few minutes.’ Denham interrupted them. He sensed that they would need a private moment, their emotions fraught at the trauma inflicted on them. He ushered his team from the control room.
A couple of hours had passed since the notification of the attack on the Animals Protection Army. General Skara surveyed the damage to his headquarters, deeply disturbed by the heavy casualties. It was a massacre; he had no doubt about it, and knew that he had underestimated the strength of the Black Phantoms. More worryingly for him, they had known the layout of his headquarters with great detail and taken the majority of his prisoners, in addition to the ammunitions and weaponry stores. Skara knew that the disc to the President requesting his removal from power was a planned strategy, a masterful trap that he fell for. It left him fighting for survival and a change of tactics swiftly needed because he had no intention of surrendering. They had not beaten him yet.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The morning after the assault on HQ, the media were having a field day. Constant reruns of the video footage that showed General Skara in his assassination of Sir Ivor Wainwright were beamed across the nation before Skara was able to order his men in to close down the broadcasts at the TV stations. Skara had arranged an urgent press conference. He walked into the conference room at his press office, away from headquarters; camera bulbs flashing away, reporters clamoured their questions at him. He presented himself as a confident man as he took the stand.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he addressed the audience, speaking into the many microphones set up on the stand before him. ‘It is with much regret that the nation was led away from the truth over the death of Sir Ivor Wainwright. The footage shown on television this morning only showed the last moments of his life but not the event that led to this sad state of affairs. Sir Ivor Wainwright was caught in the illegality of holding a fox hunt on his land during our investigation into his connections with the terrorist group, The Black Phantoms, and his responsibility for the attack on the APA two days ago. He resisted arrest over his crimes and with the welfare of the country at stake; I was forced to take the shot. Nobody is beyond the law where a crime is committed, and Sir Ivor Wainwright was a dangerous man. President Masterson has given his full support stating that the APA had followed the law in seeking an arrest. This sets the record straight and I thank you for your time.’ Skara stepp
ed away from the stand. Reporters pushed forward, demanding their questions be answered as soldiers held them back. The General ignored them as he left the room. He showed that he was in control.
‘Give the mad dog a bone,’ expressed Commander Denham after watching the TV statement. ‘Skara knows how to cover his tracks well but he doesn’t know the feelings of the people. They know that an injustice happened and that the Black Phantoms are fighting for their freedom.’
‘No reference made to the HQ assault yesterday,’ remarked Carl; he and Selena, now reunited, were staying in the resistance camp.
‘We have got him running scared, that’s why,’ Denham replied. ‘Why else did he order the raids on the TV stations and got his soldiers standing guard?’
‘How did you get hold of the evidence against him in the first place?’ queried Selena.
‘It’s all down to Spynet, a genius of a system,’ Denham proudly proclaimed.
‘Didn’t the old government shut it down, saying it was too costly and too intrusive a programme,’ she continued, her journalistic nature nosing in.
‘Yes, they did. But times have changed and we activated it again for assistance in our battle with General Skara. If only he knew that a satellite in space is watching his every movement.’ He allowed himself a small chuckle at their tactical advantage.
‘How can you afford to run Spynet?’ Carl asked.
‘Our former ally, the Americans is funding our campaign to oust the Ozone Party from power. In return, we allow them the use of Spynet for their own agendas.’ Denham responded. The countries had fallen out of their unity together over a dispute regarding who ruled a country, ravened by war that they had partaken in to resolve the situation.
‘In order to get Skara arrested, we need to show the brutality of how he had Morgan Forrester killed and how he’s living beyond the law.’ Carl’s words focused their attention back on the task in hand. ‘There are the prisoners you freed from Skara’s headquarters,’ he reminded Denham.
