Chapter 56. Not a bottle top!
The phone rang just twice before Steve answered it, but this was still too slow a response for a tetchy Prime Minister who 80 minutes earlier had been given the news that Lionel Martinez’s execution had been a success.
- Get with it Steve! Answer the blasted phone.
Steve Towerbridge understood that Lex’s anxiety levels were what were causing him to act so harshly. He’d been in this game long enough to know when something was personal and when it wasn’t, and in politics it rarely was. He pressed the speakerphone button on the phone and waited for the crackle on the line to settle.
- Joe?
- Yes Sir. - Whiskey, Victor, Alpha, Uniform, Papa, Three, Seven, Oscar, Victor, Alpha.
The moment Joe finished reeling off his identifier, the Prime Minister drilled to the core of what he wanted to know.
- Joe. Lex here. Give me some good news.
The line went quiet for no more than a couple of seconds, which was enough for the Prime Minister to assume that this meant that Joe was considering how to break bad news. He banged the desk in premature frustration. Steve shot him a rare look of contempt. He nodded reassuringly and gestured towards the phone in way that said “At least give the man a chance to speak”.
Silence.
- Joe. Steve Towerbridge. Is your line ok?
- Yes, Sir.
- Joe, we got word from Ducie that Resident 32 had been successfully executed, we need news that Patient 32 Adam Trundle has also perished as expected.
Steve spoke about the deaths without a crumb of feeling or humanity.
- I can’t give you that news exactly, Sir.
The Prime Minister raised an upwards palm to Steve, gesturing “I told you so”. Steve quickly dived in fearing an outburst from his chief.
- Are you saying Adam’s still alive Joe?
- That’s unconfirmed just now, Sir.
- Are you saying he hasn’t yet been located?
Steve’s attempts to hold back the Prime Minister were short lived, as Lex’s inevitable outburst arrived only slightly behind cue.
- You said Gaffney would find him and bring him back or at least oversee him drop dead so we had confirmation. You gave me your word that that letting her go and find him was the best tactic.
- I didn’t exactly say….
- So where’s Gaffney now Joe? What on god’s earth has she been doing all this time? She’s still on board with us, right?
- She’s on board, Sir. She’s just….
- You fucking lost her too didn’t you?
- Sir….With respect, if you’d let me explain.
- You better had Joe! I’ll order the lot of them to be wiped out if I have to. I’m losing it with this counterpart bullcrap!
- Sir….Gaffney found Trundle. They were heading back here. Then they got themselves arrested….
- Arrested? What the hell for?
- Trundle gave the officer a face full of verbal or something like that. Minor stuff! Point is they ended up back at the station and….
Steve interrupted.
- So someone would have been with Trundle around the time that Lionel’s execution took place? A bit more than an hour ago? Someone can confirm that he didn’t perish?
- He was in a police cell at the time, Steve….Sir. A locked cell.
- He got out?
- He can’t have done. It was locked the whole time. The police officer came in and found just his jacket on the cell floor.
- And you’re sure he didn’t escape?
- As sure as the officers are and we’ve no reason to distrust them.
The Prime Minister was keen to inject some more urgency into proceedings.
- Gaffney. You said she’d gone too.
- Yes, Sir. She ran from the station when they confronted her about Adam. They assumed she’s busted him out somehow, but she was sat in plain sight the whole time.
- And she’s not arrived back to you?
The Prime Minister knew the answer to his own question.
- As yet, Sir no. She called from a payphone near the station. She’s confused and distressed, Sir. I’ve sent someone out to pick her up.
- Joe. Get off the phone and use whatever resource you need to get them both found. We need to work out why Adam didn’t perish when his counterpart did and we need Gaffney kept firmly onside. If anyone has the potential to bugger this thing up completely for us it’s her.
- Yes, Sir.
The phone disconnected and the Prime Minister wasted no time resuming his frustration.
- We placed far too much trust in Gaffney. I said it from the start, Steve. I said I had issues with it.
- We had no choice, Sir. She was the linchpin to the whole thing. We discovered the whole counterpart theory through her sleep connection to Diaz. We took a risk on her, but we had to or else there would have been no project.
- Am I the only one thinking that no project mightn’t have been such a bad thing?
- Sir…. You know the gains we can get from this if we hang in there. The lab team say there’s a location pattern with the counterparts. If they nail it, then the sky’s the limit with what this can do with this.
- Taking out elusive terrorists by tracking down their counterpart and blowing his brains out seems a long way off still Steve.
Steve couldn’t argue with that, but whilst it was a possibility, it was a reason to keep this project going.
- And what about Trundle?
Steve’s change of topic threw Lex.
- Well….We don’t know he’s dead or alive do we? This whole thing’s a mess. We could have got his counterpart wrong, then we killed a man for nothing today. I already have enough blood on my hands, Steve. Lionel Martinez….Andrea Fuentes….
- How was Andrea your fault, Sir?
- It’s all part of this same mess all said and told. I was about to add Adam Trundle to that list until Joe called.
- But Sir, you knew there would be casualties. That’s why we set up the RTB element.
- Steve, we made up the ‘population of 61’ crap because we didn’t want them churning out little offspring that we didn’t have the counterpart for back at the Institution. It would have added a layer of complexity we just didn’t need.
- Of course Sir. But as a side benefit, it gave us a reason to kill one of them off by forging the results of a pregnancy test if we needed to.
- Ah yes….The Element of Anti-Expansion.
The Prime Minister said it with a mocking tone of grandeur that contradicted the fact that he had thought up the concept in the first place.
- Sir, Trundle’s escape only proves that we were right to put the Anti-Expansion stuff in there. This is exactly what it was put there for.
- We had the memory remoulding option Steve. We could have ripped the baby out and remoulded them to forget they were ever pregnant.
- Immoral Sir. You’re not thinking straight. Not to mention the fact that shipping Frank Gilbert out there to perform a remoulding session on the entire island any time something went wrong would just have been impractical.
The Prime Minister held Steve’s stare, checking his eyes for signs of a crack or a weakness in his argument. There was none. Steve has right. Lex was grateful to his steadfast sidekick for keeping on track, using the steer of cool headed logic.
- But what about Trundle? All these plans we put in place, all these rules….They didn’t keep Trundle at bay did they?
- You heard what Joe said, Sir…. A locked police cell he was in.
- Was in, Steve. Was!. He’s not there now though is he! He’s running loose with all the facts he needs to bring this crashing down around our ears, as soon as he runs his mouth to the first person that takes him seriously.
- So you really believe he….what….? Teleported himself through a solid cell wall then?
- You know I don’t like sarcasm Steve.
- Well what then? You tell me how he got out?
-
Do you want to tell me what you’re getting at instead of playing these stupid guessing games?
- My guess is he didn’t escape at all….
The Prime Minister frowned. He was losing touch with what was realistic and what wasn’t. A few years ago, the idea of symbiotic, mutually perishing counterparts would have had him ridiculing such a concept. But here they were, orchestrating a project entailing exactly that. In reality, he figured there wasn’t much that wasn’t possible any more. Steve continued.
- …. Think about it. People vanish into thin air all the time. Jim Gray, Amy Fitzpatrick, Madeleine McCann. No reliable sightings, no body, nothing. Sure we waste a load of police resource trying to pin it on the most suspicious looking person who was last seen around them, or even accuse their parents of foul play. But what’s to say that now and then, when your counterpart dies and the universe can’t find a better way to kill you off, you just…well….
- What? Vanish into thin air?
- Exactly! Or you’re transported to another realm perhaps?
- It’s crazy, Steve!
- And what part of the counterpart theory isn’t crazy, Sir?
And with that, the telephone on the desk in front of them squealed out a promise of more developments. The Prime Minister rolled the ‘Here we go again’ look at Steve, before gesturing for him to hit the button. The caller ID indicated that the call was being made from the office of the Estate in Ducie.
- Eduardo?
- Uhhu.
- Pass code please?
It was the same protocol they’d just gone through with Joe, but the snappiness and urgency just wasn’t on the other end of the line this time. Eduardo sounded dejected, almost disorientated.
- Whiskey, Victor, Alpha, Uniform, Papa, Three, Seven, Oscar, Victor, Alpha.
- Thanks Eduardo. What can we do for you?
They weren’t expecting news from Ducie as such, as Lionel’s execution had already been confirmed, so the Prime Minister felt no need to add his forceful interruptions to this particular conversation. He sat back in his chair, swishing the remnants of Old Fitzgerald’s Kentucky whiskey round and round the bottom of his tumbler as he observed Steve handling the call. Sharing his gaze between Steve, then the glass. Steve, then the glass. Steve, then the glass.
Silence, a crackle on the line. Steve quickly considered whether Eduardo could be subject to a hostage situation, forced to read the security code at gun point to get telephone access to the PM’s office. The usual check that the caller was still on the line. He was. Eduardo spoke.
- You can get me out of this corrupt circus, that’s what you can do. I don’t want part of this any more.
Eduardo’s words sent a rod up the back of the Prime Minister. He shot up straight in his chair, a look of startled fear draining the colour from his face.
- What are you talking about, Eduardo?
- The project. I want out! I want to go home. Send me some transport. Do whatever you’ve got to. I just want out!
Steve was momentarily dishevelled by Eduardo’s demands, but regained control by reverting to his comfort zone of efficient security-spiel.
- Eduardo, are you in the office alone and speaking of your own free will?
If Eduardo replied with “Absolutely”, Steve would know he was using the code-word to signal that he was being held hostage and forced to lie.
- Yes, I’m alone and I want to go home, Steve. Is Lex there too? Lex, I want to go home! You keep your money….You keep your….
Eduardo broke off into what sounded at first like coughing down the muffled line. It soon became clear that he was sobbing.
The Prime Minister looked at Steve for salvation. The hard-nosed leader didn’t really entertain emotion. He dealt in facts and progress. He had no time for snivelling. Steve took his cue.
- Hey, hey…now Eduardo. You don’t mean that. You know what’s at stake here. You’re our star player in all of this. We just need you to hang in there doing a great job for a while longer until the lab techs nail down some definite progress.
Flattery. The line stayed silent. Steve continued.
- We’ve placed a lot of trust in you Eduardo. We need you with us on this. And think about your family back home. The life you’ll be able to give them when all of this is over.
Guilt. Still no response from the other end of the line. The Prime Minister lost patience and interrupted angrily.
- You fucking well listen here, Eduardo! You know why we picked you for this and you know that my arse is on the line as much as yours, but you don’t see me bawling about how I want to end it all. There’s too much resting on all this. We’re about to change the world for the better, and even if you’re too narrow minded to give a damn about the progress of humanity, at least you can take your fat cheque at the end of all this and go snivelling back to Ecuador. But only when I say it’s over…..You go now, you get nothing! You hear me? Nada! Not a frigging bottle top!
There was a slight popping sound on the line before Eduardo’s response came.
- We tied a man to a chair and shot him in the heart today. 4 bullets. Dead, gone. He was screaming. Begging us not to kill him.
Eduardo’s voice carried the deadweight of shock. The gravity of realisation, the aftershock of the day’s events weighing heavy on his words. The reality had hit him hard and it was hurting. It would have hurt more if the numbness wasn’t protecting him like an anaesthetic.
- You think you’re the only one with blood on your hands, here? It’s collateral damage! In the grand scheme of things Lionel is nothing. Look what we’re trying to achieve here.
There was a scoff, a choke, a cough or maybe even a laugh from Eduardo’s end of the line before he spoke.
- Nothing? You can sit there in your ivory tower on the other side of the world telling me that my people are nothing! You didn’t have to hear him plead for his life, you selfish pig! And all because your incompetent fools over at the Institution couldn’t keep a lid on their patients.
Steve could sense that the situation was about to erupt out of hand, but he feared his boss too much to intervene. The Prime Minister leapt from his chair, leaning over the phone on the desk, as if that would somehow intimidate Eduardo, even though he couldn’t see him.
- And if you’d have kept better watch on your miners, then Andrea wouldn’t have drowned in fucking copper slush, meaning my “incompetent fools” over at the Institution wouldn’t have had to scrape his counterpart Harry Dunne off his bedroom floor. It’s swings and roundabouts, Eduardo! You aren’t a bastard innocent in all this you know!
The Prime Minister kicked the leg of the table. Steve put a sympathetic hand on his boss’s shoulder, which was instantly slapped away in frustration, bordering on blind rage. Eduardo was unmoved and spoke with more calmness and confidence than before. Perhaps satisfied that he’d rattled the Prime Minister.
- Swings and roundabouts it may be gents, but I want to get off this playground ride now. I’m done here. Now send someone to get me, or I’ll sort this out my own way.
Steve took this momentary air of calm as his opportunity to re-join the discussions.
- You know it’s not as simple as that. We can’t just pull you off the island and leave the residents to their own devices.
- Well then replace me. One of the support team. One of your own men. I don’t care who, just get some other fool to run this barbaric shift for you.
Steve looked to his boss for guidance. The Prime Minister bit his lip hard, then shook his head vigorously.
- No. The answer is no, Eduardo. We can’t pull you off Ducie. I’m sorry. It’s just not happening.
The Prime Minister was developing a hatred for that crackle on the line that punctuated gaps in conversation. This particular gap was a relatively short one, ended by the final words that Prime Minister Lex McGivern would ever hear Eduardo speak.
- Well then, I’m going to tell the world the truth then.
- Now you know how stupid that would…
..
The high-pitched, monotone squeal on the line indicated that the call had ended. Eduardo had hung up.
- The little swine! Get him back on the line…..
Steve fumbled with the phone, pressing a wrong button, then another. Lifting the receiver, then replacing it. Rattled.
- NOW!
The Prime Minister’s bark shouldn’t have helped matters, but it seemed to. Steve hit another button and after a short silence, the phone rang. They were connecting to Ducie. One ring….two rings….Nothing! Six, seven, eight…..still no answer.
- Pick up the phone you FUCKING OLD COWARD!
The Prime Minister scream was simultaneous with him picking up the phone and launching it against the boardroom wall. Surprisingly, it didn’t shatter and remained in one piece, but the ringtone stopped and the LED display screen went blank. The Prime Minister put his head on the desk. Shattered with exhaustion, shock, disbelief. He lay there for a moment, and for that moment, he wished he were dead.
- Sir, he won’t do it. He won’t spill anything. He’s as incriminated in all this as the rest of us.
- And you think we can take that chance?
- Think about it…. Who’s he going to tell? The residents? They’ll eat him alive if he tells them they’re part of this experiment…. This project. That they’re popping pills to keep them in check. That the law of anti-expansion, the CPT, Lionel’s sacrifice….that all of that is a lie. A ploy. A means to an end.
- Well then, he’ll tell someone else…He’ll….
- He’ll what ,Sir? Ring someone? Who exactly? All he has is a closed phone line that links him to us. Nobody else. It’s impossible!
Steve was being more overbearing and forceful in his tone than he ever would have dreamt of being in any other conversation with his boss. He didn’t care. He knew what has at stake here. He would see the Prime Minister falling apart as they approached what was looking increasingly like the end-game.
- I can’t risk it Steve. We both know what needs to happen now. Eduardo’s counterpart needs to die, so we stop him in his tracks before he causes any real damage.
- No Sir….Just….Just…. no!
- DON’T YOU TELL ME NO STEVE! You knew that this might happen the minute we got involved in all this. What needs to happen needs to happen. There’s no room for selfishness now.
- Well, we’ll replace him then; just like he asked us to. We’ll get someone else out there to run it and we’ll bring Eduardo home. I’ll go there myself and do it.
- We can’t even reach him now. He’s cut off our one line of communication. And even if we could…and we did let him go home, then what? We couldn’t have him roaming the streets with that sort of knowledge. He could hold us to ransom for his silence; he could destroy us! We’d end up killing him anyway in the end.
- But Sir, it’s not to say that….
- Enough Steve. My mind’s made up. We’re taking him out!
The Prime Minister calmly rose and walked towards the door. He stopped and got a good look at Steve before he spoke the last words he would ever speak to his trusted right-hand-man.
- I’m sorry Steve….Good bye my son. Thank you for everything. Truly….thank you. I’m sorry! You know what to do.
Ducie Page 57