by Mark Radford
‘Without a TV station to run the broadcast, we’ll have to play a waiting game.’
‘I believe there’s an abandoned studio up in Shepperton with operational equipment,’ remarked Selena. This caught Commander Denham’s full attention. Selena told him all she knew of the studio and he made notes. Time was precious and they now had a chance to sabotage General Skara’s attempt to cover his tracks…perhaps they could weaken his resolve on holding power.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The studio lit up as the lights flickered into life with the arrival of Commander Denham and his party. Both Carl and Selena were among them, Denham having valued their contribution to the cause with their combined knowledge and assistance. Selena had used her contacts to get the studio opened up. The air was stale and musty with a layer of dust covering the sheets that were protecting all of the equipment. There were cobwebs visible in places. Spiders darted for the shadows; their nesting places shredded as the sheeting were pulled away by the Phantoms. The soldiers with technical and engineering backgrounds got to work on the instruction manuals entrusted to them by the studio’s owner. They started to familiarise themselves with the controls of this dated machinery. Commander Denham walked around the control booth with Carl and Selena in tow and beckoned them to sit down. They discussed what was to be broadcasted ensuring that the timescale was adhered to with the work going on around them. Within hours, they had control of a functioning TV studio. After many rehearsals of their broadcast, they were ready. The clock ticked away, drawing closer to their prime-time transmission.
The ghostly music started up its introduction; images of phantoms glided across the television screen and in their wake, the words ‘The Black Phantoms’ appeared. Homes across the nation were bewildered by the sudden intrusion. The music faded out.
‘We are the Black Phantoms,’ again, the electronic voice spoke as the identity of the freedom fighters. ‘The ghost of Britain’s past; now back to reclaim the future of democracy.’ This motto provided an assurance to the people that a revolution was underway. The picture then cut to a news desk in a television studio, two presenters at the ready.
‘Good evening. I’m Selena Marshall, a senior journalist with Network Britain Today. The Black Phantoms apologise for intruding into your homes like this.’
‘I’m Carl Treyer, a Military Crimes Officer. The Black Phantoms would like to give to the British people their response to General Osti Skara’s statement this morning regarding the death of Sir Ivor Wainwright. Firstly, here is what the General had to say.’ The station broadcasted Skara’s speech.
Two scantily dressed females danced erotically for General Skara in his penthouse suite, their inhibitions consumed by the champagne and speed he’d supplied to them. He was enjoying the attention they lavished onto him when the telephone rang. He ignored it; one woman caressed his hair, leant in and planted a kiss on his lips, the other slowly stripped off her lingerie. He usually savoured moments like this but became irritable at the continuing ring from the telephone.
‘Excuse me ladies,’ the impatience and curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed the women’s advances away. He got up from the edge of his bed and walked round it to the telephone stand. He picked up the receiver. ‘I specifically asked not to be disturbed,’ Skara rebuked the caller.
‘The Black Phantoms are broadcasting on all TV channels sir. We are trying to track their location,’ a loyal sentry informed him.
‘Thank you.’ He now politely acknowledged the caller that alerted him to an emergency and replaced the receiver on its cradle. He picked up the remote and turned on his television set. It was showing the full footage of his exchange with Wainwright in the countryside. Skara felt the tension build up inside him as he viewed the incriminating evidence being shown to the nation. ‘Get out!’ He screamed at the women, his mood for sexual entertainment no longer present. They quickly picked up their clothes and scampered out of the room. The General watched himself on the screen, a thrust of the gun into Sir Ivor’s face and then lowered after Wainwright’s plea. The let-off statement given, swiftly followed by the return of his gun towards Sir Ivor and his deadly pull of the trigger. There was no sign of the intervening telephone call in the footage. It didn’t surprise him to see that the events had been stitched together to make him look a cold-blooded killer. The broadcast returned to its presenters. Skara the rage welling up within him as he viewed Carl and Selena, no longer under his control.
‘The evidence shows that Sir Ivor Wainwright denied any knowledge of a link to the Black Phantoms and was allowed to leave the scene by General Osti Skara before being fatally shot. He had not resisted arrest.’ Selena reported.
‘How many more lies are there in General Skara’s statement?’ Treyer questioned his TV audience. ‘The Black Phantoms would like to draw your attention to the quotation given by the general that nobody is beyond the law where a crime is committed. Please be warned that the following video we are about to show you is of a sensitive nature and may disturb some viewers.’ The broadcast switched to the Morgan Forrester footage, a duplicate copy had been held by Commander Denham and this did shocked Skara.
He hurried over to the telephone and called his second in command.
‘Why haven’t you pulled the plug on this broadcast?’ He demanded.
‘We can’t trace its location at present, General, because they have bypassed the normal television transmission frequencies. We are scanning satellites links.’
‘Report back to me the moment you locate them.’ Skara slammed down the phone and continued watching the television, a helpless man, drowning in his own sea of deceit.
‘Why should General Skara exclude himself from our laws?’ Carl announced after the cameras shifted back to the news desk from the photographic clips of Forrester’s mauled body which had been shown directly after the video of his capture and subsequent beatings. ‘Only an evil barbaric man could devise brutally horrific murders as entertainment for his own needs.’
‘The Black Phantoms also hold further evidence of brutality by General Skara,’ Selena continued. ‘They ask President Masterson why their request to bring Skara to charge has not been heeded sooner.’
‘In my duty as a Military Crimes Officer, I have a warrant for the arrest of General Osti Skara for the murders of Morgan Forrester and Sir Ivor Wainwright. More charges will follow in due course. Mr President, how can you ignore the evidence shown tonight?’ The camera zoomed in on the news desk when Commander Jack Denham joined the presenters with no protection to his own identity.
‘I salute the bravery of these two people to report on the evidence of the Black Phantoms after their own lives were threatened by General Skara. It is only fair that I reveal myself to you, too. I am Commander Jack Denham, the leader of the Black Phantoms. I serve notice to President Masterson that we are here to stay and will not rest until this country is back in the hands of the people and its royal family reinstated to their rightful place. Thank you for watching this special broadcast and God save the King.’ The studio lights dimmed until an old video clip of the Union Jack flying in a breeze showed, a rendition of the old national anthem played its tune to the public for the first time in seven years, secured in posterity by the Black Phantoms. The broadcast over, the TV networks were returned to their normal transmission frequencies.
General Skara wasted no time in getting on the telephone to his second in command.
‘Find out all you can on Commander Jack Denham as a matter of priority.’
‘I already have, General, and he served in Special Forces under the old government. We also just found out that the Spynet satellite is in operation.’
The Black Phantoms’ tactical advantage over him started to make sense; their superior knowledge and how the filmed evidence had been gleaned. The real surprise was that the Spynet project wasn’t destroyed all those years ago as he was led to believe. Skara was concerned that the Special Forces had a foothold back on mainland Britain after th
eir failure to get back in time for the battle of democracy. Time was short for him.
‘We need to counterattack fast and I have the solution in mind. Remember classified mission Mercy and our discussion about it?’ He asked his man.
‘Yes, General, I do.’
‘It’s time we activated it.’
‘I understand fully, sir.’
‘Good man,’ Skara confided in him and terminated the conversation. He hoped that he could buy some time to regain his control on the power struggle declared by the Black Phantoms. The telephone rang. Skara knew instantly that it was the President calling. He answered it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The usual humdrum activities were in motion; workers going about their duties in between departments on the main corridor of floor seven of the police station in their usual quiet ways. An unexpected sound stopped them in their tracks for once. Down the hallways in the nearby distance, the stomps of boots in a rhythmic manner could be heard. Every step taken intensified the sound as it crept closer to the station’s staff, their curiosity stirred. The first sighting came into view as the soldiers of the APA marched in formation, a line of three, their guns held in their hands. The police workers, startled in their confusion at seeing an army unit approach them, began in a blind panic to step back against the wall, away from the invading throng. Nobody dared question their presence. The soldiers passed by. A door opened at the end of the corridor and the Chief stepped out of his office into the corridor, alerted to the commotion drawing closer to his door. He saw the soldiers.
‘What is going on?’ he sternly asked as the soldiers grinded to a halt. They broke formation and turned sideways, taking steps back towards the wall, leaving the exposed General Skara facing the chief. He walked forward to the chief.
‘Ah Chief Fletcher?’ he enquired politely.
‘What brings you here General?’
Skara lifted his arms and pushed his wrists together towards the Chief.
‘I understand that MCO Carl Treyer has a warrant for my arrest. Here I am on order of the President.’
It took the Chief by surprise that the General had surrendered himself for arrest so calmly. He signalled to two of his men to come forward as arresting officers but some of Skara’s soldiers stepped forward and blocked the access.
‘My men are very protective of me Chief Fletcher. They will not leave until they are absolutely certain that my safety is assured in your custody. I would like MCO Treyer to be the arresting officer. Is it not protocol for him to do so and make the arrangements?’ Skara looked serene.
‘Of course General, it’s my mistake. Please come into my office and take a seat while I get hold of Carl Treyer.’ He stepped aside and allowed Skara to enter his office. Two of the soldiers took up guard at the door; the others stood their ground, guns at the ready. The Chief felt uncomfortable at the stand off; Skara’s men were clearly in control over the proceedings.
*****
Carl and Selena looked out at the view of the Solent from a grass bank that covered the top of their building, among others, at the hilltop retreat of Fort Trafalgar near Portsmouth. It had previously been a disused building for a number of years, but was now operational as the secret headquarters of the Black Phantoms. The fort was in a secluded surrounding, protected by trees, access only by a private road. They were sitting on a blanket and Carl had his arm around Selena’s waist; her hand rested on one of his arms as they watched the boats. They munched on mouthfuls of their picnic breakfast that consisted of croissants, ham, cheese and a flask of hot coffee. They enjoyed the precious moments between them after the ordeal of the last few days at the hands of General Skara. The peaceful lull was broken by the ringing of Carl’s mobile phone and Selena pulled herself a little from their gentle embrace to allow him to answer the call. He picked up the phone and saw on the display that it was the Chief calling.
‘Good morning sir.’ Carl announced his presence to the Chief.
‘General Osti Skara is in the station and wants you, as the MCO, to undertake his arrest. His men will not leave the building until we can safety assure his protection in our custody. Will you return?’
‘I was not expecting that, sir.’ Carl voiced his surprise at the news. ‘Are they armed?’
‘They are indeed.’
‘I am on my way, sir, and it will take me a couple of hours to get in from my location.’
‘Please report directly to me on arrival, Carl.’
‘I will do so, sir, and thank you for letting me know.’ The call got terminated. Carl switched off his phone.
‘What’s happening?’ Selena asked.
‘General Skara is at the station asking for me to arrest him, and his soldiers are there too, armed apparently.’
‘I don’t like the sound of it, Carl. It’s got to be a trap,’ Selena said worriedly.
‘You are probably right. I had expected Skara to fight it or avoid capture with his men’s loyalty behind him. We need to discuss it quickly with Commander Denham.’ Selena nodded in agreement to Carl’s words. They hastily cleared up their picnic and were soon on their way.
*****
Commander Denham stroked his chin with his hand as he mulled over the news of the General.
‘I don’t think Skara would surrender meekly. It’s not his style,’ Denham answered. ‘He’s looking for a bloodbath and a police station would fit the bill perfectly, with all those senior officers of the law inside it. How do we counter that?’ It was a difficult dilemma as Denham eyed the people around him; nobody looked if they had the golden answer to the problem. ‘I have a plan in mind.’ He alerted the entourage in the room; being the leader he was, a potential solution to a situation was always on hand. This was no different and he told them of his proposal to combat General Skara and minimise the loss of life. The plan was approved by all concerned and set in motion. As the party prepared to leave, Selena rushed up to Carl and hugged him tightly.
‘Come back safe,’ she begged him, fearful of the plight in store at the hands of General Skara. She had been ordered to stay behind for safety being of no use for the task with any knowledge of weaponry. It was potentially a dangerous mission and she was downcast at Carl’s involvement.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. I’ve got the Commander’s men giving me strong protection to carry out my job, and I have a bullet-proof vest for good measure. I’ll see you soon and that’s a promise.’ He leaned in and kissed her, then gave her a smile. ‘I want more of those in return when I get back.’ He managed to get her to give him a glint of a smile.
‘You’ll get them,’ she answered and released her grip on him. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you, too.’ Another kiss and then Carl, the Commander and a selected band of soldiers made their departure for London. Selena had a gut feeling that something would go wrong.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Carl walked alone down the police station corridor guarded by General Skara’s soldiers. He portrayed his usual mannerisms and gave no hint of nervousness, in order that suspicion would not be aroused. The soldiers acknowledged his presence and allowed him access to the office door of the Chief without challenge, sentries on both sides.
‘It was too easy,’ he thought to himself as he knocked on the door.
‘Come in,’ the usual stern order bellowed out by Chief Fletcher and Carl made his entrance. The General rose to his feet from a chair by the Chief’s desk when he saw Carl walk in.
‘You really must improve your level of respect, Mr Treyer, to keep myself and the President waiting to conclude this matter of arrest.’ Skara scolded him.
‘The President?’ Carl was surprised.
‘Yes Carl,’ the Chief remarked. ‘He’s waiting on a call from the General for confirmation of the arrest before announcing it to the media.’
‘I do apologise for the delay, General.’ Carl looked discreetly about and noticed that no soldiers were in the room.
‘What choice do I have when the Pres
ident stepped in after watching the TV broadcast by the Black Phantoms and asked for my resignation?’
‘A plausible explanation,’ Carl thought, but it bothered him that Skara was so calm. He had expected an angry man, fighting for his freedom by brute force if necessary. He had men who served him with unconditional loyalty who were prepared to die for him if ordered.
‘How is Selena?’ The General enquired mockingly. Carl felt the resentment build up in him over the question.
‘She’s coping well.’
The General gave a smug smile.
‘Being forced to share my bed so easily and to satisfy my sexual needs…’
Carl lunged himself at Skara, cutting short the remark as it unhinged him.
‘You bastard,’ he growled and grabbed the General’s jacket with one hand, his fist ready, but the Chief quickly intervened and pushed Carl away from Skara.
‘Control yourself, Carl. This isn’t the time and place to let your feelings to overrule your duties,’ Fletcher ordered him. ‘Let’s get this arrest over with, shall we?’ Carl backed off.
‘Are you ready for the arrest, General Skara?’ Carl asked in his authoritative manner and quickly recomposed himself. How he wished he’d got off a punch before the chief stopped him. He would have liked to wipe the smugness from Skara’s face and get retribution for the General’s captivity of Selena.
‘I will notify the President that proceedings are underway. May I?’ Skara announced and pointed to the telephone.
‘Do be my guest, General.’ The Chief responded bypassing the usual protocol as the President had an interest in the arrest.
Skara turned round, his back to the men and leant over the desk and picked up the receiver. He dialled the President’s hotline number and straightened up again as he waited for a response.