2014 Year of the Horse

by Liliane Parkinson

  As the taxi exited the airport, he opened the envelope. It contained a border security report and a scribbled note from Pania, which read, ‘??? Another piece in the puzzle???’ He smiled at the question marks and his feelings of unease lessened slightly. At least Pania was still keeping him in the loop. That was surely encouraging. When he finished reading he folded it back into the envelope then closed his eyes and relaxed into the upholstery evaluating its importance to the Forum. He examined the facts from various angles and reached the conclusion that this was more likely to be linked to Brady than Wesley. Perhaps, he speculated with growing unease, the Forum faced two separate challenges. Could he really trust Diego’s assurances, he asked himself, and were his suppositions realistic?

  He felt the car drawing to a stop and opened his eyes. They had arrived outside a very plain concrete building. Its very blandness, almost as if this was its back entrance alerted him but he could see nothing to identify its purpose. Intuitively he guessed that this was Wellington’s new security centre.

  The driver turned to look at him. “Mr Ritmeyer, you’re to go in and identify yourself at the desk. They are expecting you. I’ve instructions to deliver your luggage to your hotel. Have a pleasant day Sir.”

  George entered the building through a slowly revolving steel door. He noted the security cameras following his movements and found himself inside a small reception room. The security officer sat behind thick glass. There seemed to be no other exits. He spoke into the grill and passed over his ID. The officer nodded.

  “You are expected Mr Ritmeyer. Please step through.”

  The side wall moved and George saw a narrow entrance. An officer stepped through and signalled for him to follow. The wall closed silently behind him and he was in the building.

  CHAPTER 54

  George felt as if he was back at the airport. He faced further security checks, his ID inspected, briefcase x-rayed and he was searched for weapons. He saw Pania arrive on the other side of the barrier. She looked unusually pale, a worried frown creased her forehead and her eyes bored into his. The photos have done their damage, he thought. It was not surprising. Whatever happened he knew he’d made the right decision and he’d face the consequences. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders. She waited till he was fully processed.

  “Sorry I couldn’t meet you” she said. “I hope the airline looked after you properly. Did you get my report?”

  He nodded instantly aware of her brisk manner. Her eyes examined him gravely as if she was trying to make a difficult decision.

  “I’ve booked a meeting room where we can discuss the latest developments before we move on.” The words seemed to George to have an ominous ring.

  The cameras recorded their progress up the stairs. They reached the room and Pania stepped aside to let George in. She followed behind, closed the door and sat down. George glanced around before choosing a chair facing her. There were no cameras in the room and no obvious listening devices.

  “I’ve got a few things which might interest you. You’ve read the report from border control? How relevant do think this is?”

  “The report confirms that lab tests show that the drug matches the earlier samples so I consider it highly relevant. I don’t yet understand how it all fits together. Were they able to identify the yacht?”

  “No. It seems to have vanished. We’ve arrested three individuals for possession of Class A substances and for receiving illegal goods. They are currently isolated and considering their position in custody. We’ve also impounded the fishing boat involved. So far all those arrested have kept silent and refused to answer any questions. We are waiting for one of them to crack. There’ll no doubt be further charges ... One other puzzle ... Amongst the bags of cocaine they’ve found several packets of capsules containing an unidentified cream coloured powder. The usual narcotics tests are negative and the other standard identifiers are inconclusive. The lab’s carrying out further tests but it looks like a new drug and we have no idea what it’s for.” She paused then looked away. It was time to confront George. She set her face in serious lines and turned towards him. “Now, to change the subject slightly, perhaps you’d like to explain about those photos and that girl?”

  This was the moment he’d been dreading. He cleared his throat wondering where to begin.

  “One night,” he started hesitantly. “I was in my second year of college. It started out as an ordinary Saturday night. Brady was my roommate then and it was his party. Anyway that’s when I met her. You saw the photos. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the room and she was interested in me. I could hardly believe it.” George shook his head, mentally castigated himself. How could he have been such a fool? “I don’t remember what happened. I never used to drink much and never enough to get drunk.”

  “Well, you certainly give a good impression of being drunk. Considering the photo evidence, I find it hard to believe you were sober.”

  “Doesn’t look like it, no. I’ll give you that, and no, I wasn’t. The point is I didn’t drink enough to get drunk. You have to believe me. I never liked losing control even then when I was a student.”

  “I don’t have to believe anything you say George, but you’d better hope the jury will. Those photos are damn convincing.”

  “I had no idea they’d taken those photos not till that email came.”

  “So what’s your version of the truth George?”

  “I guess someone … spiked my drink-”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I woke in the morning in a hotel bed. I felt awful. My head throbbed and my mouth was as dry as the Sahara. I got up and found her in the lounge. She was dead. Drug stuff all a ... well you saw the photos! I really panicked. I totally lost it.”

  “You sure it was drugs? How’d you know she was dead? Had you ever seen a dead person before?”

  George was silent as he remembered that confusing morning. Why had he gone into such a panic? Perhaps it was a side effect of that spiked drink. He remembered it all so clearly; waking in that saggy bed; body heavy; thoughts tangled; the way the air sounded filling him with foreboding. To this day he had no idea how he’d ended up in that room but he remembered the party, the beautiful flirt, the shock of the pink gown, her sprawled body, and the powder!

  “No, I’d never seen a dead person, in real life that is. She looked dead, like in the movies, pale. She looked as if Michelangelo had carved her out of marble. I just knew she was dead. I couldn’t think straight. Didn’t know what to do. It was all so unreal.”

  George’s eyes had that unfocussed look of someone lost deep within himself. She watched as he fought his inner demons and relived his memories. She was so cold, cold as marble. She was dead. He was sure of it. Again he fought to breathe, struggling to make sense of the horror before him. He resumed his retelling.

  “I didn’t know what to do so I rang Brady-”

  “Why Brady, why not the police?”

  “I don’t know. I was scared and confused. I had no-one else I could trust. I thought he would know what to do, that he would help me ... ”

  “What happened then? Did he help?”

  “After what seemed an eternity I heard Brady’s sleepy voice.”

  George remembered every stammered, stuttered word of that conversation. He remembered waiting for Brady’s signal. Three knocks followed by two, three knocks followed by two. It seemed an eternity before he heard the rat rat rat-a-tat signal. He snibbed back the lock. Brady stared at the body and the mess on the table.

  “God, George how’d you get into this shit?”

  He had no sensible answer and slumped onto the end of the bed in dazed shock, incapable of saying anything, incapable of making any decisions, leaving everything to Brady.

  Pania reached out and patted his hand. He twitched abruptly as if he’d touched an electric fence.

  “Sorry, tell me exactly what happened then,” Pania prompted.

  For a long moment George stared at her
with dull hopeless eyes. Then he continued.

  “Brady came, took me home, gave me some pills and fixed it…”

  “How?”

  “He never said and fool that I was, I never asked. I woke the next day and it was over. I supposed it was all those drugs that made me sleep. I never really gave those lost twenty-four hours much thought. All that year I waited for the truth to come out, to be arrested and perhaps imprisoned, but nothing happened and slowly I pushed the memories away.” That was the end of it; except in George’s head. Sometimes he wondered if it had all just been a dream. For weeks he scoured the newspapers. Eventually he stopped looking over his shoulder and his life resumed but on a different track. It was a heavy secret and he felt the colours fade from his life. He buried himself in his studies but the images of the body in the hotel room remained burned into his subconscious.

  “I was a complete coward, an ostrich with my head in the sand. I never went out with Brady again. We hardly spoke to each other. At the end of that year he graduated and moved away. The next year I worked hard and passed at the top of the class. I started working for the UN. They completed intensive security checks and I was clean. Brady…” a sharp rap on the door interrupted him. They both looked up as the door opened.

  “Pania, you can bring Mr Ritmeyer into the control room now if that suits. It’ll get busy soon and the operator has a quiet moment.”

  Pania turned to look at George. He felt drained. Her hesitation was barely noticeable then she jumped to her feet.

  “Okay. Let’s do this now. We can resume our discussion later. I think you’ll find this interesting.” Her casual tone shocked him. He stood up. Had she been listening to him at all?

  They followed the security guard to the elevator. He punched in some buttons, then stepped aside and said. “This‘ll take you to our new state-of-the art control centre.”

  George felt the lift drop rapidly. It gave him time to regroup his scattered thoughts and return to the present. When it stopped the steel doors opened with a smooth sigh. Pania led the way into the control room. They entered the room through an airlock, set into thick walls of reinforced concrete. The whole area gleamed in a blaze of brightness, steel and toughened glass and computer wizardry. Here hidden in the underground heart nestled a vast and watchful electronic brain. For a fleeting moment George wondered what would happen in the unlikely event of a power failure. No doubt they’d thought of that.

  “Welcome to our secret defence system,” Pania said with an amused smile as she saw his openmouthed astonishment. “The experts tell me that it’s the most advanced system in the world and gives us a better than evens chance of managing threats. They claim that all Forum venues can be isolated and locked down within seconds of any alert originating from this room.”

  George whistled through his teeth in admiration.

  “While you’ve been delayed, the delegates have been arriving. DPS has been very busy meeting and greeting. As has customs and immigration. They seem to have a sixth sense. Already they’ve confiscated illegal food items and several handguns. Four people have been refused entry due to invalid documentation and one person is occupying a holding cell for presenting a false passport.” Pania pointed to one of the screens. “Look! There’s Parsons meeting the Asian delegation.” She pointed to another screen nearby. “You can see the protestors and supporters waiting there.”

  Placards waved above the crowd. The operator waved his hand over the screen and suddenly it split into two with a wide overview to one side while the other zoomed in and they could see close details, individuals, their faces and their actions.

  He glanced at George.

  “Every frame is recorded and stored for later analysis. The computers analyse each frame, using face analysis, body shape and mass and other specific recognition formula enabling us to sequentially link pictures from different cameras.” He pointed to one of the terminal screens on his desk, hit a few keys and there was George exiting customs. He touched George’s face on the screen. “Now the computer will collate all the images we have of you and present them in a chronological sequence.” George watched himself exit immigration, pause and search the room for Pania, his scowl clearly visible as he caught his name on the board. The technician grinned. “You don’t look too happy. Guess it was a long flight eh?” He smirked. “Well, it’s on file. You can’t deny it. If anyone breaks the law we will have enough evidence to convict. Police units have access to the images in real-time, on their new visors and patrol cars have built-in screens. It’s interactive so they can control what they see but we can override their views if something crops up.”

  George nodded watching as the computer replayed his progress out of the airport and into the taxi.

  “I guess you’ve also retained images from all the cameras in this building?” he asked.

  “Yep. Here. This is you arriving and passing through security.”

  George watched as his taxi drew up, the driver opened the door and he got out. He saw himself scan the building, listen to the driver then take a few steps and enter. The angle was wide enough to capture details on the street. George thought he recognised the man crossing the road behind him from the earlier airport shot. The images were very clear.

  “I think I’m being followed” he said. They laughed.

  “You have clearance to watch the Forum from here if you wish.” Pania said. He nodded, distracted by that thought. He would enjoy spending time in this room observing the action. This was what it felt like to be omnipresent.

  He turned his attention back to the wall screens. Parsons’ group had reached their cars. Then as the vehicles left the airport he followed their progress across the screens. Traffic signals along the route changed in a coordinated ballet of green lights. Finally the motorcade stopped outside one of the hotels. The Concierge hurried out to welcome the guests, he held the doors open. The bell boy took charge of the luggage. The visitors and their escorts stepped out and entered the lobby. Even here cameras monitored the area, capturing their entry.

  Perhaps Parsons’ had been right, George thought to himself, at least partially. Wellington was easy to secure, easy to isolate and so it would be easy to control the small central area where the Forum would play out. He felt more confident. His involvement with New Zealand was coming to a close. Now he was an observer, charged with monitoring their performances and watching that the agreed processes were being followed. Soon there would be a new host announced but he doubted he’d be reappointed, not if Brady carried out his threats. It would be over for him. He felt his shoulders sag at the prospect.

  “So what do you think?” Pania asked nudging him. He looked at the screens on the walls and forced himself to smile.

  “I think we have a fair chance of containing trouble within the city. Law enforcement officers are concentrated here so let’s hope that’s where any trouble starts. I have some intelligence which we still need to assess. Where exactly we can expect trouble is hard to say but if it takes place in the wider Wellington area then we’re somewhat exposed.”

  “But then that wouldn’t be relevant to the Forum and so not our direct responsibility.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Pania glanced at her watch. Time was racing by and soon they were due to meet Parsons so she dragged George away from the high tech wizardry and they returned to the meeting room.

  “We don’t have much time just now. In a few minutes we have to leave for the last stakeholder meeting. Do you have anything relevant to that to discuss before we go? We can discuss the other stuff later. I take it you are still coming out to tea?”

  George took a moment to check that her question was genuine and not sarcastic. He nodded.

  “If the invitation stands I’d be real pleased.”

  “Okay. So do you have anything I need to know before meeting Parsons?”

  “I have received threats against the Forum. It’s not very specific so Parsons won’t like it. I’ve received several phon
e calls from Brady. He threatened me and you and the Forum. I think we need to take him seriously.”

  “Can’t you be more specific?”

  “Right. The Forum and you are his targets. I don’t know what but I suspect a bomb somewhere, maybe even a suicide bomber, or more than one. As a minimum, you’ll need backup or you should go into hiding. We’ve got to discuss these threats with Parsons.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re not really his prime focus. He’s been trying to blackmail me and I think it’s another way to tighten the screws. Brady never leaves anything to chance, so on the off chance that I don’t cooperate he looked around for another angle and thought of you.”

  “Do you know what I can expect?”

  “I don’t want to scare you but he’s threatened to kill you.” The words shocked her. She stared at George her eyes transformed into dark troubled pools. He rushed on “He’s had you followed. Claims to know where you go and when. Warned me that you were an easy target.”

  “I know I’ve been followed and been targeted. I’ve been harassed. There have been a few odd things happen recently so I’m not surprised by what you say.”

  George looked at Pania with concern.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? When did this start?”

  “I guess we both have secrets.” She answered and George felt himself colouring under her gaze. “It started with emails. I think I mentioned those? Then I realised I was being followed. It was creepy and I didn’t like it at all. I made the mistake of asking Parsons for backup but he told me to take a holiday and get over it. I’ve taken steps to minimise the risk and it seems to be working but now someone is ringing my cell and hanging up. That’s intimidating too so I’ve switched it to silent mode. Of course that doesn’t please Parsons. He thinks I am getting thin-skinned, that I’m letting my imagination run riot or worse still, that I’m heading for a breakdown. But I’m not imagining it.”

  George heard the conviction in her voice. Parsons was a fool to dismiss her concerns in such a cavalier manner. He rushed to reassure her. “I’m sure you’re not imagining anything. Brady claimed to know all your movements. He specifically told me that.”