by Ian Wisby
They were mostly images taken of dead bodies in East Timor, but there was also a short video. She watched it and was completely horrified by what was on it.
This evidence was the key to bringing down Birchall McClelland.
As she sipped her wine, she suddenly looked up to hear a loud noise. It sounded like a window shattering.
Then she heard the distant sound of the neighbours’ dogs barking. Amanda put down the glass and got up to go and investigate the commotion.
She looked in all the rooms. Finally, she went into the bathroom and saw that the window had been smashed by a brick. Probably some kids playing, she thought to herself.
She relaxed a little bit, but she was still on edge. She then wandered back into the kitchen. The copy of the evidence she was making was complete.
She’d also sent a digital copy of it to Andy, just as a precaution.
All of a sudden, Amanda was grabbed from behind. A hand pressed against her mouth. She went to scream but it was muffled by the glove.
She began to struggle to break free. Her attacker pulled her from the bar stool, and it toppled over. She was thrown to the ground, and her head hit the large white tiles.
Her skull cracked on impact.
Blood began spilling out.
Amanda was still conscious, but she was in immense pain. She couldn’t move, except gasp for air as she began to choke on her own blood.
As she lay there, she kept alive long enough to see the shadowy figure of a man standing over her. He was wielding a gun. But he didn’t kill her. He wanted to watch her slowly die.
The man stood there. He hesitated for a moment, before taking out his mobile phone to dial a number. It rang multiple times before it answered. “Yes?” a voice answered.
“Mr. Benedict, it’s Mitch Clark.”
“Has the situation been taken care of?” Mitch Clark looked down at Amanda Shaw. She was virtually dead.
“Yes, Sir. It’s been dealt with. I’m just dealing with the cleanup.” As he waited for a response, he emptied a bottle of pills and scattered them all around Amanda’s body.
“Good. This needs to look like a suicide. We can’t have anyone asking questions,” said the voice of Karl Benedict.
“Don’t worry, Sir. I’m good at my job. There will be no evidence of my being here. The police will assume she overdosed. Case closed,” said Mitch.
“Excellent. Once you’ve done that, make sure her laptop is destroyed…You’ve done well, Agent Clark. Your payment will be transferred to your account within the hour.” A cheeky grin merged onto Mitch’s face.
“Thank you, Mr. Benedict. I’ll let you know when it’s done.” He then hung up the phone and continued what he was doing.
AUSTRALIA DAY, 2020.
CHAPTER 15
CHARMAINE BRADLEY WAS the President of the Commonwealth Republic of Australia.
The fact was, Australia was now a republic. The referendum held twelve months ago was successful, and so Australia began the process of becoming a republic. It was a big effort, but they finally managed to get it done in time before Australia Day of 2020.
An official ceremony was to be held in Sydney, marking the historic event with an inaugural speech from Charmaine Bradley, who was recently appointed and selected to be Australia’s first president. Australia would now be known as the Commonwealth Republic of Australia.
It was something that she’d never imagined would happen in her life time, and to be asked to become the nation’s first female head of state was an absolute honour.
She was thrilled by the opportunity to serve her country in the highest office in all the land. Charmaine Bradley was a distinguished woman of fifty-five.
She was an Australian academic who served as the Chancellor of the University of New South Wales. She was the first woman to have held the position of chancellor.
Charmaine was also an Australian public figure and a well-established businesswoman.
Recently, Charmaine received the Order of Australia award, because of her work as a humanitarian. She worked closely with several charities to effect change in the less fortunate countries.
Charmaine Bradley was to give a speech at the Sydney Opera House to express her gratitude for being selected to be President.
However, before the event, Charmaine was to officially sign the new Constitution under the Australian republic system at a separate ceremony which was to be held at the Admiralty House.
The Admiralty House was previously the official residence of the Governor-General of Australia, but now it was to house the President of Australia.
Charmaine Bradley was on her way to Sydney. She was onboard the Australian Air Force Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner.
The Dreamliner was purchased by the Australian Defence Force to serve as the VIP transport for the President and to replace the aging Boeing 737-700 which previously transported the Prime Minister of Australia.
The jet was fitted out in a VIP configuration; it had a customised interior with a private lounge area for guests, it had a large conference room where the President could hold meetings with government officials as well as other leaders.
The jet also had its own private suite for the President and spouse, which would be used for long-haul nonstop flights.
To the rear of the plane was a passenger cabin for crew members and the President’s staff; there were enough seats to accommodate up to twenty-five people.
The plane had two galleys capable of catering five-star restaurant meals, and it even had a medical bay, in case of mid-flight emergencies.
The plane was basically the Australian equivalent of the United States Air Force One. Charmaine was being given a tour of the plane by an Air Force officer. He showed the President into her private office.
Her long, slender, polished fingers trace the newly polished mahogany desk. Her high-heeled shoes echo across the room as she made her way to the large, leather chair behind the desk. She was quite pale as she was still taking in her surroundings.
The tour was coming to an end and she was more than grateful to the officer. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Excellency?” asked the Air Force officer.
Despite being the President, she was still referred to as Your Excellency.
“No, thank you Lieutenant. I appreciate the tour,” she said. They both shook hands. The officer opened the door and showed Charmaine in. It was a large spacious office with a corner desk and several porthole windows.
She went over and sat down at the chair. A knock at the door startled her, but she relaxed some when she saw Joseph Parsons enter the room.
Joe was the President’s Official Secretary; his role was to provide the President with the necessary support to enable her to carry out her constitutional, statutory, ceremonial and public duties.
His duties as Official Secretary include the organisation of and advice relating to their duties, hospitality for official functions.
Joe had been friends with the Bradley family for the past twenty years and he’d been under the employ of Charmaine for ten of those years, working as her Executive Assistant while she was the Governor of New South Wales.
“Your Excellency…How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, as he closed the door. Charmaine took a sip of her coffee.
“I’m fine, Joe. Just feeling a bit overwhelmed about all of this,” she said, and Joe nodded.
“I can understand that. It’s a big event. Not to mention you’re about to become the first President of Australia,” he said. “Is John going to be there?”
“Yes, he’s already at the residence,” said Charmaine. There was a brief pause. “What’s happening with the signing of the Constitution?” she asked.
“The state Governors will be arriving to sign the document. You’ll also make a brief statement to the media about the signing,” he said.
“Good. I want to make sure that everything runs smoothly,” she said.
“Of course, and it will. The Australia Day festi
val is expected to be a complete success,” said Joe.
“Yes, I saw the news reports this morning,” she replied, as she took another sip of her coffee. She continued to read through her speech for the ceremony.
There was a TV on in her office and it was showing a report on the upcoming Australia Day festival.
“As you can see behind me, there are already dozens of excited fans here at the Sydney Opera House,” she began. “This is to be the greatest day in Australian history, as it marks the official first day of the Republic of Australia…Less than twelve months ago, the Australian government passed a republican referendum. And now today, the nation comes together to celebrate its independence as a republic…It also welcomes its first president. Charmaine Bradley is expected to arrive within the next hour where she will be making her inaugural speech as the nation’s first president. She will also be the first female to be appointed Australia’s own head of state,” said the news anchor.
In the background, people were waving their Australia flags in the air and cheering.
* * *
Greg Hughes and Nathaniel Manson were good friends. They had been friends since joining the Australian Army together ten years ago.
Greg was in his early thirties, while Nathaniel, or as he was commonly referred to as Nate, was approaching forty.
However, until recently, they’d left the military because they disagreed with the government’s decision to become a republic. There were quite a few people like Greg and Nate in the Armed Forces who shared the same feelings.
Having left the army several months ago, they were both employed as mercenaries with an Australian defence contractor.
Today, they’d been hired to carry out an important job. The two were driving in a dark-coloured transit van. Nate sat in the passenger seat and sipped on his Grande cappuccino from Starbucks, which he insisted on getting before leaving. Nate wasn’t a morning person, but after completing this morning’s assignment, he didn’t care if he lost a night’s sleep, because he was going to be receiving the biggest pay check ever.
Greg was driving, and they were just crossing the Iron Cove Bridge that led them into Balmain, a suburb of Sydney.
Their destination was a townhouse in Balmain, on Grafton Lane. It was a privately-owned townhouse and Greg and Nate’s task was to pick up a package from a contact.
Neither of them knew what was in the package, but all they knew was that it was dangerous, so they had to treat it with extreme care.
Their lives depended on it; Nate took a sip of his coffee and looked over at Greg, who seemed to be annoyed. “Take it easy, bro,” said Nate, trying to cheer him up. “Have some coffee.”
“I’m out,” Greg replied, abruptly. He kept concentrating on his driving and changed lanes several times. “I still don’t know why you accepted this job.”
“Because you forget bro, you owe me big time,” said Nate. “Don’t worry, once we get this done, we’ll be rich bastards,” he said. Greg didn’t reply after that. He indicated and then slowed down as he turned onto Grafton Lane.
There were not many cars on the road, considering it was after six o’clock. The sun was just starting to break through the horizon and the sky was glazed with a tint of orange and yellow.
It was still dark so Greg kept the van’s lights on. They slowly drove down the narrow lane and as they got to the middle section, Greg stopped. He parked and put the vehicle into neutral, switching off the engine in the process.
At that, both Greg and Nate got out. He and Greg approached the back door to the house. He paused for a moment, before knocking on it several times.
They stood there waiting, feeling like complete idiots. Just then, the door opened. They stood sharply, as a tall man appeared. He was about the same age as them, but he was much more buffed up.
It looked like he’d been going to the gym every day. He stood there and stared at Nate and Greg. He looked back and forth at either of them, then indicated to enter.
“Are you here for the package?” he asked, as they headed inside. Greg closed the door.
“Yes. Mr. Benedict sent us. Here’s your money,” said Nate, and he handed him a duffel bag.
He opened it, revealing five hundred thousand dollars in notes.
“Good. One moment.” Greg and Nate were left standing there, as the man disappeared into one of the back rooms.
Sometime later, the man came back. He was carrying an aluminum box case. “This is the package…Be very careful when handling it. Make sure you get the job done,” he said.
“Of course,” said Nate. He took hold of the case, gently as instructed. They shook hands before heading out of the house. “There, that wasn’t too hard was it?” said Nate, with sarcasm. Of course, Greg didn’t say anything. “Okay, let’s get this in the van, then get some bloody breakfast, I’m starving!” he said.
Nate placed the case delicately into the back of the van. Once it was secured, they climbed into the front and started up the engine.
Greg was driving this time, as Nate had to make a call.
“Yes?” a voice answered.
“It’s me…We’ve just met with Hauser…We’ve got the package. We’re heading to the rendezvous point now,” said Nate.
“Good. Get there as soon as you can…Your fee will be wired to the usual account,” said the voice. Nate grinned and then the call disconnected. There was no telling who that person was on the other end.
Nathaniel was one to never ask questions about his employer on these sorts of jobs. As long as the cheque cleared, he didn’t care who they were.
He had some idea, but he never actually met the person. Right now, there was just one thing on his mind; cashing in on that big pay cheque. Nathaniel had always been motivated by money.
It was something he’d found himself wanting more of ever since he joined the Army. While the Army paid him a decent wage, it just didn’t seem to be enough for Nathaniel.
That was until he signed up to this private defence contractor; he’d made more money in a matter of months than he did during the years of service he gave to the Australian Defence Force.
Gregory Hughes on the other hand was the complete opposite. He was more worried about being caught than anything. Which was understandable; they were after all handling military-grade explosives.
But Gregory also had a different personality to Nathaniel. He was somewhat reserved in nature, and in the twelve months that Nathaniel had been working with Greg, he often thought he was just a bit shy. “So, what are you going to do with your half?” asked Nathaniel, as they were driving off.
Of course, Greg didn’t respond, he was too busy focusing on his driving, trying not to disturb the explosive package in the back.
“I don’t know yet. I’m just trying not to get us killed,” he replied, as he steadied the wheel. Nathaniel just shook his head, and scoffed.
“You need to relax, buddy. After we pull off this job, I’ll buy you a beer,” he said. “Hell, with this amount of money, we could buy our own brewery,” he joked. Nathaniel leaned over and turned the knob to switch on the radio. “I’m bored, need to listen to something,” he said, as he adjusted the frequency. He found a channel, but it was a news station. He stopped it to have a listen, which was something he rarely did. The news channel was one of those talk shows, and it was going on about the whole Australia Day event happening today.
They were stating that the country becoming a republic would be a good thing for the Australian people. Nathaniel rolled his eyes at that.
He hated the idea of this country becoming a republic, and was one of the main reasons he accepted this job.
“Can we listen to something else?” Greg insisted, as he reached over to change the dial.
“You’re so touchy this morning, Greg. You need to chill out,” said Nathaniel.
“I’ll chill out, once this bomb is where it’s supposed to be and not in the back of my van,” he grumbled. Nathaniel just shook his head, and turned the vol
ume up. He wound down the window, and leaned his elbow out, letting the cool morning breeze filter in through the cab. “Today’s a fucking great day to be alive, WOO!” he shouted.
CHAPTER 16
THE LOW HUM of a coffee pod machine and the noise from the television broadcasting a news program that was showing the festivities for Australia Day, was the only noise in a Sydney apartment.
A cat was sitting on the kitchen counter, flipping its tail when a burly man dressed in dark-grey slacks with a police badge attached to his belt, button up shirt and tie entered.
Detective Inspector Mick Greer had been awake since the early hours of the morning, getting ready for a busy day at work.
Today was going to be especially busy, because the AFP was providing security for the upcoming Independence Day festival.
Mick Greer lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Sydney’s Pyrmont. The apartment captured sweeping views that stretched across Sydney’s skyline from a private rooftop terrace, where Mick frequently spent some time gazing out across the harbour, and puffed on a cigarette.
The Greer residence boasted a superior lifestyle, which he was quite comfortable with, having recently gone through a tough divorce with his now ex-wife.
The apartment was appointed with high-quality contemporary finishes, and it was simply a short stroll to the water’s edge.
Mick was in the kitchen waiting for the espresso coffee pod machine to be ready, and watched the news on his large TV screen in the lounge room.
It was showing a report on Australia’s upcoming Independence Day festival; the report stated it was to be the biggest event in Australian history. “Hungry Holmes?” he asked, the cat.
He scratched the cat, Holmes’ head as he reached for the cat’s food bowl and poured him some food.
The espresso pod machine finally completed its task of making a fresh brew of coffee. He wasn’t the type to talk to a cat with his tough demeanour, but Holmes was the only companion around right now. “It’s quiet right now old boy, but will get a bit noisy with fireworks.