by Mark Radford
‘Good afternoon, Mr President. The arrest is taking place as we speak and I am calling to officially inform you…’ a section of the outside window shattered and General Skara slumped to the floor, his words halted mid-sentence. His soldiers stormed the room and saw their leader on the floor dead, a bullet to the forehead, blood seeping from its entrance.
‘Get your hands up!’ A soldier shouted out to Fletcher and Treyer, his gun aimed at them and they followed the order as another soldier bent over Skara and two others raced to the window, guns at the ready. Both the Chief and Carl were frozen in shock.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ The second in command demanded of the soldiers as he entered the office, but he saw his answer in the lifeless body on the floor. He quickly saw the dangling telephone receiver over the desk and went over and picked it up.
‘Mr President,’ he sharply acknowledged the voice on the receiving end. ‘This is General Skara’s second in command. The general has just been assassinated.’ The new commanding officer listened with attention to the President’s words on the phone. ‘Yes Sir, I will do so. Thank you.’ He replaced the receiver and shouted, ‘Get the General out of here and fall back.’ The soldiers by the window lifted Skara’s body off the ground and carried him out of the room. ‘Mr Treyer, the President holds The Black Phantoms responsible for this,’ said the officer as he retreated from the room with his men. Once they were out of sight, Carl immediately reached for his hidden earpiece.
‘What the hell happened?’
‘It wasn’t us Carl,’ Commander Denham protested.
‘I think we’ve been set up to take the fall here.’
‘You think General Skara ordered his own death and got his men to carry it out? It’s a crazy idea!’
‘Who are you talking to Carl?’ Fletcher interrupted him and closed his office door against the prying eyes of the station’s workforce who lurked in the corridor.
‘Commander Jack Denham.’ Carl showed the chief the wire under his shirt.
‘Did The Black Phantoms come to London with you?’ He demanded.
‘Yes, but they weren’t the ones who shot Skara. They were here for my protection and I’m sure it’s a set up by Skara.’
‘Well, the matter certainly needs to be investigated but I am afraid that I have to suspend you with immediate effect due to your involvement with The Black Phantoms.’
The news of the suspension struck him hard and he was defenceless against the charges. He reluctantly gave up his gun and police badge and handed them to Chief Fletcher.
‘I will be in touch Carl. Don’t do anything stupid to compromise the investigation.’ The Chief warned him. Carl nodded an acknowledgement and left the office.
‘Sorry to hear about the suspension, Carl, but we will help you out of this mess.’ He heard Denham say to him over the radio link. He wasn’t in the mood to answer back, his mind swamped with theories as he started the journey out of the station. He wasn’t convinced that General Skara was really dead, tranquillized maybe in a devious mastermind plan to create the impression that he was dead and in the process take down the Black Phantoms with him? The more he thought about it, the more Carl was convinced of his suspicions. Skara had played a shrewd hand Carl thought to have left his own career as an MCO in tatters. Carl vowed that he would leave no stone unturned in seeking out the evidence that would clear up the whole matter and get his reputation restored. A throng of people rushed forward when he exited the station, cameras rolling as pictures were taken of him. It took Carl by surprise at how quick the media were on the scene or was it pre-planned.
‘What is your implication on the assassination of General Osti Skara by the Black Phantoms?’ a reporter asked and thrust a microphone into Carl’s face. Similar questions were shouted out to him by other reporters standing in the throng.
‘No comment. Chief Fletcher is in the process of opening an investigation and he’ll answer your questions in due course. Please excuse me and thank you.’ He kept his statement brief as he no longer had any jurisdiction on the matter. He pushed his way past the media who continued to follow him. He was relieved when he saw Commander Denham’s escort car pulled up to the kerb, his men quickly making their way toward him, and he got in the car. It drove back to Fort Trafalgar at high speed, the mood sombre at the backlash that faced them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The control room at Fort Trafalgar was one of muted silence as the personnel watched the many reports coming in from the scene of Skara’s assassination. Selena felt jubilation that Carl was safe when she saw the television images of him giving his statement but all the same, mystified at the Black Phantoms’ involvement in the event. It had also given other members of Denham’s staff cause for concern at the impact for them. The various television channels’ pictures all suddenly switched to the Presidential Palace and to President Masterson at his desk.
‘This is a grave day for Britain as the spectre of terrorism darkens our country once more,’ he started his speech. ‘General Osti Skara had honourably resigned his position at my request and gave himself up for arrest to Central Police Headquarters for justice to be served on the murder charges that were raised against him. He did not deserve to be assassinated for his crimes and there has been strong evidence that the Black Phantoms are responsible for this atrocity. They are terrorists who claim to be fighting for the freedom of you, the people, but when they hijacked the television network last night, it was an act of propaganda and now this. I will not tolerate this action by them as President of this majestic land. They can run, but they cannot hide from the truth of who puts the people’s interests first. I declare a curfew from eight o’ clock this evening and every night onwards where everybody, with the exception of Presidential departments, is to be off the streets and into their own homes. It was not an easy decision to take, but the safety of the people in this country is of paramount importance. We will fight against the terrorist threat of the Black Phantoms and the APA will patrol the streets in large numbers in the curfew hours and anyone caught outside without good explanation will be taken into custody. This will allow us to hunt down and restrict the activities of these terrorists and believe me, they will be punished severely. Thank you for listening, and be vigilant at all times to the actions of those around you as the Black Phantoms walk among you all.’ The live broadcast ended and television stations were returned to their own frequencies and programming, but many had news desks on standby after the President’s breaking statement.
The broadcast was picked up and heard on the radio by Commander Jack Denham and his entourage as they travelled back to Fort Trafalgar.
‘Skara has really screwed us with his master plan, hasn’t he?’ Denham remarked to the others in the car. ‘The President is making him a martyr.’
‘We can salvage this and win back support,’ Carl stated positively. ‘The General made a mistake.’
‘How?’
‘In the office he stated that the President was waiting for a phone call from him that the arrest was underway before he announces it to the media. Did he really ring the President or did he call the assassin? There was no mention of that phone call in the President’s speech so Skara must be alive.’
‘Yet news reporters were already outside the police station when it all happened.’ Denham enthused at the direction of Treyer’s analysis. ‘It all makes sense. You are good, Carl.’
‘It’s all part of the job to probe every angle to a situation.’ He said, lifting the spirits of those in the car. ‘We need to get hold of Chief Fletcher’s telephone records and find out Skara’s last call.’
Denham swiftly brought up his radio link and relayed the Chief’s office telephone number that Carl had given him, and told his men his plan.
‘Selena wants to talk with you, Carl,’ the radio passed over to him by the Commander. He declined it and shook his head from side to side. ‘He doesn’t want to talk at the moment so leave it until he’s back at the complex.’ He cea
sed the link up. ‘She’s upset that you are not returning her calls.’
‘She’ll have to wait until I get back.’ Carl felt discomfort at how best he was going to tackle the issue of Skara’s abuse towards her, the words of the General in the office still fresh in his mind.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Commander Denham and his team returned to the control room at Fort Trafalgar after the disastrous mission to London, ready for a debriefing session to repair the damage to their reputation. Selena was concerned to find that Carl wasn’t among them.
‘Where’s Carl?’ She asked Denham.
‘He went straight to his room and asked us not to disturb him for a few hours, and that includes you.’
The request shook her.
‘I know that he is upset about being suspended from his job but I don’t understand why he’s being cold towards me. He needs my support. I need to talk with him about this.’ She set off to leave the control room.
‘Selena wait. There’s something you should know.’ The commander called out to her.
She halted her tracks and turned back and faced him, her mood unforgiving at Carl’s snub.
‘What should I know?’ She demanded.
‘The conversation in Chief Morgan’s office became unpleasant between Carl and General Skara with a reference made about you. He didn’t take it well and tried to attack the General. It’s part of why he’s been suspended.’ Denham spoke tactfully.
‘What was said?’
‘It’s really not my place to say but I suspect it’s a factor in Carl’s present mood towards you. Just be prepared for some flak, okay.’ He gently warned her as he had seen the genuine love between the pair.
‘Thanks for the warning, Commander, and believe me, I will not let Skara come between me and Carl’ she responded defiantly as she walked off in pursuit of her fiancé.
*****
Carl lay on the bed, his back up against the bedstead. He was shirtless and deeply in thought as he looked at his wallet photo of him and Selena together in a cherished moment. It repulsed him looking at her, the mere thought of his fiancée in bed with Skara. He tossed the photo aside to the floor and clamped his hands to his head. The handle on the door rattled, followed by pounding thuds upon it, his thoughts interrupted.
‘Carl, I don’t know what the hell the General said to you but you better open this door right now and we’re going to discuss it.’ She angrily spoke.
Just what he needed, Selena in a confrontational mood. The thuds continued.
‘Okay, I’m coming!’ Carl guessed it was time to tackle the issue. He got off the bed and walked over to the door. He unlocked the handle’s knob and it turned speedily, the door opened swiftly by force from the outside as Selena barged in on him. She slammed the door closed behind her.
‘We are supposed to have trust between us and a strong relationship here. What the fuck did the General say for you to treat me with such contempt?’
‘That he forced you to have sex with him so easily.’ He told her bluntly, straight to the point.
The thought horrified her.
‘I’d rather die than have sex with that treacherous arrogant pig,’ she laid into him. ‘Are you seriously telling me that you believed him?’
‘It would not be the first time you betrayed me, would it?’
‘What?’ Selena gasped in disbelief.
‘Eric Solomon comes to mind.’ He reminded her.
She slapped him hard across the face with her hand.
‘How dare you compare that to this,’ she beseeched him. ‘I never slept with Skara.’
‘I never said you did, but the General said so. Sounds like a guilty conscience for you to deny it.’
It shocked Selena that the situation could get this out of control. She quickly changed tacks.
‘Can’t you see that Skara was a nasty, manipulating man out to destroy us after we brought him down?’ She reached out and touched his hand to soothe him. He flinched at her touch and pulled his hand away.
‘I know what kind of man Skara was but I have reasons to be doubtful, don’t I?’
Selena couldn’t believe that Carl was raking up the past over her affair with Eric Solomon, a senior newspaper editor who had promised her a promotion if she had a secret relationship with him, but the career progression never materialised and she left that newspaper when the affair was exposed. She nearly lost everything in her life. It happened so early in their relationship.
‘I know that I made a bad mistake back then but we had moved on from that and built a stronger relationship between us. Please believe me when I tell you that the General lied to you.’
‘Like you did when you denied many times that you had not been involved with Eric until the press plastered the whole sordid details across the news pages for everyone to read. Why should I believe you now?’ He spoke bitterly.
‘I won’t let General Skara destroy us, Carl, because it just isn’t true. I will get you the truth.’ She promised him, a determination not to lose him again.
‘How do you intend to do that?’
‘I’m going to ask Commander Denham to speak with his mole inside the APA Headquarters for clarification on this. It hurts me that you are placing your trust in a sadistic man’s words.’ Selena felt the tears trickling down her face as she said the words but wiped them away quickly. She retreated from the room, nothing more to say.
Carl saw that he had pushed her to a tearful state and it snapped the bitter mood within him at her promise and left him wondering if he had made a grave mistake to judge her so swiftly. He knew that he should run after her and comfort her but his emotions were fraught; he was ambivalent, caught up in a past deceit for leverage that did not warrant a place in the present time. Selena was right about one thing. He should not have allowed Skara to come between them. Where had the trust gone? He thought to himself and realised that he had to get away from Fort Trafalgar and seek out the answers he craved, both to save his career and his relationship. He started the preparations to leave.
*****
The nightly curfew ordered by President Masterson was in effect. The streets were empty, devoid of the usual nightly crowd of people going about their business, replaced by foot patrols of APA soldiers, armed to the teeth. Fear had gripped the people once more as they took heed of the President’s instructions. A military truck thundered down a street and came to a jerking halt. Soldiers jumped down to the ground from the back of it and swarmed off, descending towards the front door of a house. A car pulled up alongside the truck and switched off its lights and engine. One of the APA soldiers banged on the door of the house, which was then opened by a terrified-looking man.
‘Are you Edward Parsons?’ The soldier enquired.
‘I am,’ the man responded nervously.
‘You are under arrest for sympathising with the Black Phantoms.’ The man was dragged away from his doorstep by several soldiers.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about! I have nothing to do with them.’ The man protested loudly as his wife rushed to the door wanting to help her husband.
‘Do not step outside your door, madam, or you’ll be shot,’ screamed a soldier to the distraught woman, his gun aimed ready to shoot. She stood still as another soldier went up to her and pushed her back further into her home before he closed the door. Wails sounded from the inside. Parsons was dragged to the middle of the road and forced to his knees as some people peeked from behind their curtains. Soldiers were spread out along the street and a few stood behind Parsons. An officer stepped up to the man.
‘You are the owner of Pilgrim Studio, am I correct?’ He asked loudly and allowed anyone with a vested interest in the commotion from their windows to bear witness.
‘Yes, I am,’ he meekly answered.
‘I’m sorry, can you speak up? I don’t think anyone heard that.’ The officer goaded him. Parsons answered again, raising his voice.
‘The studio is supposedly abandoned, I take it.’
‘Yes,’ Parsons replied and he knew exactly where the questioning was going.
‘Except for the night of the Black Phantoms’ broadcast where electricity records showed a huge surge of power from the studio. You allowed them to use the studio, didn’t you?’
Parsons spoke in agreement and knew that he was a doomed man.
‘Did they pay you for the studio time?’
Parsons nodded his head, unable to speak as the shock of being caught sunk in.
‘That makes you an enemy of the country and a collaborator with the Black Phantoms. The punishment is death.’ The officer delivered the damning verdict.
‘Please, I beg you, have mercy.’ Parsons said in a pitiful plea for his life. The officer looked towards the car where a hand signal was given. He drew out his gun, put it to the head of Parsons and shot him dead. The body limply fell to the ground.
‘Let that serve as a warning to all of you who wish to co-operate with the enemy.’ The officer screamed to the audience watching from the safety of their homes. The car started up and went on its way.
‘Leave the body and move out,’ he instructed his men. They all clamoured back onto the truck and it drove off away. A few brave souls ventured out onto the street and went over to the body, including the wife of Parsons who sobbed uncontrollably over her husband’s death. At the corner of a house just down the street, Carl emerged from his hiding place, having witnessed the street trial on his way home, and having glimpsed General Skara in the back seat of the car as it passed him. His suspicions were founded.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Commander Denham had been urgently summoned to the control room by an incoming call. He went straight to the communications link after being informed of who it was by a member of the staff. He switched on the link.
