‘I am,’ Liz said defensively.
‘The same young lady that’s responsible for the global “Shame your Bullies” movement?’
‘The same one, yes,’
‘Well, I was saving some special comments for her.’
A sudden surge of panic rose in Sean’s body.
‘I believe that her brave actions and quick thinking quite possibly saved a whole nation from subservience to an out-of-control European machine,’ Halliday said.
As Sean breathed a sigh of relief, Praew beamed with delight, holding on to Liz’s hand.
Halliday continued. ‘I nominated young Praew for the George Cross twenty minutes ago,’ he said.
The room fell silent as they took in the news.
‘Prime Minister, while I’m sure Praew really appreciates the offer, there is a more important thing to her and us… ’ Sean said tentatively.
A brief chuckle came over the phone. ‘Mr McManus, how could anything be more important than a George Cross? It’s the highest honour for bravery a civilian can be awarded,’ Halliday’s pompous voice echoed through the small room.
‘Well … ’ Sean started again.
‘Sean — I hope you don’t mind if I call you that — obviously you don’t know much about the George Cross?’
Sean screwed up his face and looked at Liz, who shook her head. When he looked up, Clive was grinning from ear to ear. ‘No, I don’t, but Clive seems to,’ he replied.
‘Mr Miller, would you like to explain?’ Halliday said.
‘Delighted to, Prime Minister,’ Clive said, turning to Praew. ‘The George Cross can only be awarded to Commonwealth Subjects. I think the Prime Minister may have some news for you, Praew,’ he said, wiping a tear from his eye.
‘What? How?’ Sean said leaping up from the bed.
‘Just over an hour ago I had a meeting with my Home Secretary. I didn’t want to be embarrassed by offering the George Cross to somebody that was ineligible. So I automatically upgraded the young lady’s residence application to a citizenship application. I’m also pleased to tell you that it was approved by no less than the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister as soon as it was upgraded. Congratulations Praew, you’re not only the United Kingdom’s youngest ever recipient of its highest honour for bravery… you’re its newest citizen.’
Tuesday, 16th February. Frankfurt, Germany
The dingy hotel room in the red-light district of Frankfurt was a far cry from the riches he’d experienced in the past years as a guest at Ulrich Wagner’s house, but it was perfect for his purposes. The receptionist hadn’t even thought it strange when he didn’t remove his motorbike helmet at the check-in desk.
He opened the silver case and touched the stock of the disassembled marksman’s rifle. He would throw it into the river later, along with the computer from the hotel in Brussels. But first he had to clean them of any trace of DNA and wipe the hard drive of the computer.
Standing in front of the mirror, he carefully shaved the small square moustache from his upper lip, ensuring that the hairs were all washed down the basin. Then he pulled the new hair clippers from his bag and began to shave his head; starting at the long parted fringe. When completed, he scrupulously collected every hair and placed them in a paper bag. They too would be thrown into the river.
Only an hour after he checked in, he walked through the reception area and out onto the street, unrecognisable. Then, following a brief detour to the river, he entered the main train station and boarded the first intercity train out of Frankfurt.
sThe Quiet Wart Page 31