by Karma Karzai
Chapter Three
Back in Turtle Bay, NYPD troops responded quickly to the emergency. They evacuated all civilians caught in the cross-fire, and shut down all surrounding streets, with the razored barricades and barbed wire fences seemingly popping up within minutes of the police’s arrival on the scene. Stunned spectators peered through the wire, and wondered aloud what was going on inside.
In the coatroom in the lobby of the UN building, the UN troops were wondering the same. Although initial reports had contended that the Secretary-General had been shot twice, this was actually inaccurate. The CNN reporter who made the claims was discovered to not have been on the scene as she first declared, but actually broadcasting her ‘eye-witness’ account from a nearby crack house, after scoring before work and hitting her pipe so hard she never made it to the office. After CNN fired her, she went to work for Channel Nine.
The Red Rover militants were now believed to be situated in the Secretary-General’s office, and with the door closed and occasional guffaw coming from inside, the galaxy waited with bated breath for word of what was happening. Martian President Marsharona decided to pre-empt any statements, and issued an official one himself:
“We Martians condemn wholeheartedly this act of war committed by these terrorists, and we stand together today to let you dear earthlings know our thoughts are with you in these hard times but now you know what we have to put up with so good luck with getting them out of your building.”
Needless to say, other world leaders were not amused by Marsharona’s obsequiousness, and decried his blatant insensitivity. Australasia Maxima President Barack Osama said to reporters that Marsharona was; “an ignorant fool,” whilst the King of Swinlandway said his country will ban all incoming Martian flights until Marsharona; “grows the hell up.”
At approximately 12.49pm, the doors of the Secretary-General’s office opened, and the Secretary-General stepped out, followed closely in a surprising move, by Red Rover leader Mang Guld himself. The aging rebel looked smaller than many expected, with the toll of extremism telling markedly on his wrinkled face, and the scars of battle literally highlighted like tattoos on his bare and muscular arms.
Guld was dressed all in black, with skinny jeans, cowboy boots and an overcoat, and looked either like a glam rocker from early millennia, or a dirty old man, rather than the fearsome ‘Red Terror’ he was infamous for. The two men strode purposely to the waiting elevator, and rode down to the lobby to address the waiting pack of the galaxy’s media. Speaking first in a booming voice, the Secretary-General said; “People of the universe, let me first reassure you; we are in no danger, for the Red Rover’s come in peace.”
The assembled press pack exploded like a Tarin Kowt IED, and began shouting out questions in synchrony, sounding very much like a tsunami sucking the water from the shore before it forms the wave, drowning out any voice of reason. The Secretary-General paused, then declared the press conference over, and ordered everyone out of the lobby. Amidst fervent howls of derision and protest, UN troops cleared the area, leaving the UN personnel and Guld alone. The Secretary-General looked down at Guld and smiled. “Now time for your reward Mr Guld,” he said, before leading Guld into the Dag Hammarskjöld Library where Guld’s reward for successfully shutting down Manhattan under secret Executive Council orders laid waiting.
There it was the majestic tapestry of Pablo Picasso's Guernica in all its glory, laid out and ready to be packed for shipping to Guld’s Las Vegas hide-out. Guld shook the Secretary-General’s hand firmly. This was the way to do business.
Unbeknown to everyone, the UN had secretly funnelled trillions of dollars into the Red Rovers campaign to fight the communist government of Mars, considered the real terrorists by the UN. Weapons and logistical support flooded the Red Rovers coffers, and transformed the once ragtag bunch of illiterate peasants into a well-paid and well-armed bunch of illiterate peasants.
Ideology was quickly replaced by the mighty dollar, and the Rovers began doing jobs for hire, advertising under a false name on world trading site Dead tree, which is how the UN managed to enlist them. The UN needed a decoy, a huge distraction, to divert the galaxy’s attention away from UN operations in Antarctica. Apparently, an uprising by fairy penguin populations had been suppressed viciously by UN troops and thousands of ice bergs were dripping with blood from the feathers of the innocent.
Fearing galaxy-wide condemnation, the UN was desperate to keep the highly sensitive news a secret, hence utilising the services of the Red Rovers.
For Guld, it was all in a day’s work. He jumped into the waiting chopper with his new Picasso under his arm, and thirty minutes later was shivering on the deck of his yacht, as it sailed down the Hudson River away from the maddening crowds.
-The End-
About the Author
Karma Barndon is a promising journalist from Doubleview, WA. She enjoys the outdoors and nature, is an avid Fremantle Dockers supporter, and would love to one day be Prime Minister of Australia.
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