Big Night Out

by Michael E. Lloyd

conclusion

‘We have always relied upon you to prevent this, N.G.’

‘And I continue to do my utmost for you all. But in the considered opinion of a small number of persons of some influence, including myself, it is the present leadership which shares the greatest blame for our new distress.

‘The ever more liberal polices of your government, over recent years, have relaxed national vigilance on every front, and given huge advantage to those who would destroy us.

‘My own Service’s structure and methods served the defence of our liberty admirably, over many decades. But they have now become seriously weakened, in the name of some ill-defined, broad new concept of “freedom”; a freedom which in truth only adds further daily discomforts to our honest citizens, yet opens doors ever wider for those who reject our laws or threaten our very existence.’

‘I admit to having some sympathy with your views, N.G., but for us even to be discussing this here is bordering on treason itself ...’

‘No, Minister — it is not! Those days have passed. And the eleventh hour may already have come and gone. Now is the time for action ...’

The master of manipulation knew well that a carefully-timed silence was the perfect tool for bringing about a change of heart, or a capitulation, or a realisation that something special was suddenly on only very short-term offer.

He left his latest urgent war-cry resounding in the Minister’s ears, and released him from his steely stare. He gazed out at newly-clear blue skies and, not for the first or the last time that day, he simply waited.

* * *

‘So what, precisely, are you suggesting should be done, my friend?’

‘We are suggesting that you are the man to take over command. And that the moment for this has come — or rather, has now been forced upon us. So please listen carefully to our proposal.

‘Assumption 1: The enemy will launch its attack in the very near future. Strategic decisions must therefore be made at once.

‘Assumption 2: We shall later gain intelligence that the attack will definitely happen, on the evening before it does. Tactical action plans must therefore be put in place, here and now.

‘Assumption 3: We shall gain no further insights into how or where the action will be carried out. We must plan for the worst, and assume it will be targeted at the heart of the capital, and that its effects will be widespread and very serious.

‘Conclusion: The obvious evading action for the government — to allow the entire cabinet to disappear, on the night before the attack, into one of the underground shelters — is simply not viable. Their absence would be immediately evident early the following morning, and a state of panic and protest would rapidly ensue, to be followed by the disaster of the anticipated bomb itself. They might not emerge for days, weeks or months, yet they would still embody a legitimate government, trapped powerless in a blocked-up rabbit hole. And up above ground, who knows what anarchy would develop amongst the people, knowing their masters were safe and well, but that they most definitely were not?

‘Alternative Solution: An experienced and widely respected senior minister is whisked away at the last minute by our heroic Service agents. He will later be shown to have gone most unwillingly, wishing not to seem to be abandoning his people. He will be taken to a haven from which, with our assistance, he will soon be able to exploit exclusively the communications facilities which presently support those government shelters. He will rapidly impose his direct command on the military and all emergency resources, and address his people, and calm them, and promise to return home the moment it is safe to do so. He will prove that they are once again under a good and strong leadership — not one that hides in rabbit holes — and that we shall fight back against the cruel deeds of our enemy, and prevail.

‘Decision: You should be that Minister. You should allow us to rescue you from an imminent, unimaginable fate, and fly you and your wife to a place of safety, which is being prepared, as I speak, to fulfil its role in your proposed resurrection.

‘And we can, if you wish, accommodate three further family members of your choice on the small aeroplane which we are now making ready. My colleagues in this endeavour, and I myself, will not enjoy that particular luxury. But I shall be there with you, to advise and guide you all the way.’

N.G. resumed his immaculate silence, and waited for the Minister’s response.

* * *

The short-lived sunshine had again disappeared. Dense tropical storm clouds were building on the horizon, and the wind was gusting ever stronger. The traffic building on the city streets was, in frustrating contrast, moving more slowly by the minute.

* * *

‘You’re seriously expecting me to give you an answer on this, here and now?’

‘Yes, Minister.’

‘It’s out of the question, man! My immediate reaction is to say “No” at once, and have you escorted from the building ...’

‘That in itself, sir, neither surprises nor offends me. These are difficult times.’

‘... and even if I allowed myself to consider it further, it is inconceivable that I could make such a decision without consulting at least my wife and my children and their families.’

‘I regret, sir, that those consultations are luxuries you will simply not be able to afford.’

‘Are you threatening me, N.G.?’

‘No, sir. I am honouring you and providing you with a lifeline to safety and patriotic glory.’

The Minister finally found his own long silence.

And, eventually, he broke it for himself.

‘What would I need to do?’

‘Very little, sir. That is germane. You will simply return home tonight, and say nothing to your wife or anybody else. We shall be watching and listening carefully, to ensure this trust is not broken.’

N.G. reached into his briefcase and extracted a brand-new mobile phone.

‘If and when firm news reaches me (and let us pray that it does not), I shall contact you with this. Keep it close to you, switched on and adequately charged, especially at night. When it sounds, with four simple ring-tones (no more, no less), you must not answer it. You will know already that you have been summoned.

‘Tell your wife that an imminent enemy attack is feared, and that this is a new and top-secret emergency government evacuation. Ensure she contacts nobody.

‘Your own personal detective will be gently managed out of the picture in a way that will cause no harm or alarm.

‘You will have only forty-five minutes to pack your bags before our driver arrives — so I suggest you make some private preparations in advance. You may also wish to discreetly organise a workable cash fund, in various currencies ...

‘If you elect to bring any other relatives with you, you must handwrite their names and addresses on this sheet of paper for me, before I leave today — along with a brief signed message encouraging them to place their trust in you and their rescuers. But, I repeat, you will make no contact with them on this subject yourself.

‘At the same moment as we alert you by phone, each of them will be given, in person, the immediate opportunity to join you on the flight. We shall make certain that they then contact nobody else. But please rest assured that if any of them should choose not to leave with you, their wishes will be honoured, and they will be treated with the utmost respect; but they will have to be taken into the temporary protection of the Service.

‘Our drivers will be instructed to carefully check that you are carrying no phones or other tracking devices when you depart. You will make no objection to this.

‘And finally, sir, to avoid any uncertainty, you and your wife will need to bring your passports.’

N.G. fell silent again, confident that it was now simply a matter of time. Not that he could spare much more of that on this very busy day ...

* * *

Just two days later, at three-fifteen in the morning, mobile ring-tones and chiming doorbells sounded the calls to duty.

By four-fifteen, eight fast cars were converging on a disused military airfield located forty miles to the south of the capital.

The first car to arrive, barely five minutes ahead of the next, sped on past the rusting old front entrance gates, and turned sharply right one minute later. Its taciturn driver proceeded, more sedately now, along a narrow side road, until he spotted a pair of large wooden gates, which were opened by invisible hands in perfect time to allow him to pass through without stopping.

He continued, more slowly still, down a bumpy metalled track illuminated only by a string of dim, low-level markers. Then he swung into a dark enclosed yard and came to a smooth halt alongside the last of several doors of an old single-storey administration building. Just behind it rose a huge hangar, gently outlined against a backdrop of promising eastern light.

A smartly-dressed guard armed with a rifle and a reassuring smile stood beside the small windowed door, and a pale and welcoming glow illuminated the room beyond.

The second of the cars was now reaching the old front gates, and pursuing the route taken by the first ...

* * *

N.G. decided to allow himself a small private luxury after all, on this very special morning.

He stood up, stretched, walked over to the drinks cabinet, and poured a generous glass of fine cognac.

He settled back in his deep-buttoned leather chair, closed his eyes, savoured the bouquet of the brandy for several seconds, then took a few appreciative sips.

He smiled contentedly, sat forward, and re-read the text of the signal he had just prepared.

The action has gone precisely as planned. We are holding twenty-three of them under tight and secret military guard. Homeland Minister, Finance Minister, Foreign Minister, Defence Minister and Deputy First Minister. Three wives, one husband, one girlfriend. Thirteen others.

Silent video footage has been produced for media distribution, showing them gathered together in a single room at what is clearly an airfield, all in possession of large suitcases, and with each minister feigning surprise and anger at the others’ presence.

The accompanying press report will additionally reveal that they were all carrying passports and substantial sums of foreign currency, and that a large military transport plane had been standing ready in a nearby hangar.

The report will also suggest that the reason for their attempted escape is a recent, scandalously unpublicised discovery of an apparent plot to explode a gas bomb in the centre of the capital during the next few days.

The First Minister will be forced to resign at once, in light of the government’s cowardly mass exodus and its failure to alert the people to the threatened attack. There will be widespread panic, looting and traffic congestion. The military will be stretched well beyond its capacities, in its provision of direct support to the other civilian services, and it will therefore have, for many days to come, little or no eye to the world beyond its borders.

There will, of course, be no catastrophic attack; and, crucially of course, very little damage to the infrastructure is likely to ensue from the public disorder. The country will therefore continue to offer us clean and well-serviced living conditions.

All previously established options for the next stage of the campaign thus remain open. I await your further directions.

N.G. enabled his most heavily screened and encrypted private data link, and pressed the Send key.

Then he relaxed back into his chair, and slowly drained his glass. Revenge was sweet, he mused. Especially when it lasted a lifetime. And he had barely started yet.