The Keepers of the Persian Gate (21 page)

The journey to the Clarkson Nuclear compound only took about ten minutes, made faster by the police escort which shadowed the Congressman’s car. As they arrived at the compound, the significant presence of company security at the gates spoke volumes about how closely Clarkson Nuclear guarded its privacy. There wasn’t even a sign on the gate; it was all very anonymous. However, that changed once the Congressman’s car arrived at the front door of the building, which was some distance back from the main road and hidden by a forest of trees. Here, the Clarkson Nuclear sign was made of solid gold and sat out from the building. The atmosphere also became more welcoming, albeit only slightly. There were still plenty of armed security guards dotted about the place, Paddy observed.

A man walked out to greet the Congressman and Paddy as they exited their vehicle. He was quite a young man, definitely younger than Paddy.

“Good morning, Congressman, it’s an honour, welcome to Clarkson Nuclear. I am Jack Robinson and I am the secretary of the shadow board. I handle all matters associated with the meetings such as attendance, minutes and agendas. The board will be convening shortly. I would ask that you go up to the seventeenth floor boardroom. Several others have already arrived. Shannon here will direct you,” explained Jack Robinson.

The Congressman and Paddy duly trailed behind Shannon, an exceedingly pretty blonde with a derriere that made her extremely pleasant to follow. She led them through a huge reception hall complete with Greek columns. It was clear that Clarkson Nuclear had no shortage of funds when it built the place. Shannon took the pair to the elevator.

“This is a big place,” commented Paddy.

“Well, you know the saying, gentlemen, everything is bigger in Texas,” said Shannon, turning in their direction to reveal a most prominent cleavage. She gave the Congressman a great big wink.

When the elevator opened, it did so into a waiting area. The boardroom itself was partially visible through a glass door at the end of the corridor. It jutted out from the building and was a glass structure, sort of like the bridge of a cruise ship. As they were led towards the boardroom, Paddy suddenly saw a man that he recognised, in conversation with someone on the other side of the glass door. It was Adam Scott!

Paddy had to think quickly. It was immediately clear to him that he couldn’t attend this meeting. Although he had never met Scott in person, there was a real risk that Scott would identify Paddy. Not really knowing what to do, Paddy subtly nudged the Congressman to get his attention when Shannon wasn’t looking. The Congressman turned to look at Paddy who drew his hand across his neck as if to say ‘stall’. Realising that something was awry, the Congressman stopped Shannon in her tracks.

“Ma’am, do you mind if my aide and I have a moment in private? Matters of state have arisen which require my immediate attention. I am sure you understand,” explained the Congressman.

“Of course, Congressman. There are reflection pods on the far side of this floor and you are free to make use of them,” replied Shannon.

A bit like the boardroom, the reflection pods each jutted out from the building ever so slightly. They were designed for board members so they could conduct external business in private or if they required time to consider votes or propositions. When the pair got inside one of the pods, Paddy conducted a very quick sweep for bugs but couldn’t find any.

“So what’s this all about, Paddy?” asked the Congressman.

“There’s a man in that room called Adam Scott. He is a Senior Partner in the law firm I work for back in London,” explained Paddy.

“What the hell is he doing here?” asked the Congressman.

“I don’t know. William Dunlop had connections to the board but parted company with them. I can’t be certain if Scott is on our side,” replied Paddy.

“How well do you know this Scott?” asked the Congressman.

“I’ve actually never been introduced. I’m only new with the firm. I recognise him from photographs,” replied Paddy.

“Will he recognise you?”

“I don’t know. But would you be willing to take the risk?” replied Paddy.

“What’s the plan, then?” asked the Congressman.

Paddy pondered the situation momentarily. “The plan is, you go and tell Shannon that I’ve got to do some important work on your behalf. Make something up - tell her I will need undisturbed use of this pod. You go into that meeting and try to find out as much about Adam Scott’s reasons for being here as possible - without being too obvious.”

“I think I can manage that,” said the Congressman.

The Congressman did as Paddy instructed while Paddy waited in the pod to make his move. After five minutes, he opened the door slightly to get a view of Shannon’s location. Her desk was located outside the boardroom just around the corner. Fortunately, Paddy wouldn’t have to pass her to make it to the fire door. However, he would have to be extra quiet. After a few moments of hesitation, Paddy moved into the corridor carrying his shoes in his hand and gently shut the door. He moved down the hallway and through the first door. Remaining quiet, he carefully removed the panel on the fire alarm and took out the fuse. He then opened the door to the stairwell.

Meanwhile, back in the boardroom, the Congressman had begun mingling with the other attendees prior to the meeting. Adam Scott appeared to be locked in a rather heated discussion with Robert Jackson about something. Congressman Charles made vain attempts to get closer to the pair so he could hear their conversation, but he wasn’t very successful. Unfortunately, the Congressman had been pinned down by one of the big tobacco CEOs who was systematically reading him the riot act about the latest round of federal censorship on cigarette advertising.

As the last board member arrived, Robert Jackson took the Chair.

“Gentlemen, I declare this meeting of the shadow board open and ask that any items of new business which have not been approved in the draft minutes be addressed now,” said Robert Jackson.

Adam Scott stood up.

“Yes, Mr. Scott,” said Jackson.

“Gentleman, I must bring to this board’s attention the sad, tragic and untimely death of William Dunlop, a colleague and a friend. I would like to extend my sympathies and condolences to you personally, Mr. Jackson, and to the wider family,” said Scott.

“Hear, hear.” Calls came from around the table.

With that, another man stood up. “As a representative from Sefton & Grey, I would also like to extend my condolences for the loss of William Dunlop, and for that of Aamir Machete, another esteemed senior member of this board.”

“Thank you both, gentlemen,” answered Jackson. “As the current board members will know, William Dunlop not only provided legal advice to this board for all matters outside of the US, but he is also was my son-in-law. It is indeed a sad time for the family. I want to thank you, Mr. Scott, for coming today. It is unfortunate that you are not prepared to take up the post as William Dunlop’s replacement on this board. However, I understand you appear on behalf of Sir Mark Glover, who has indicated his willingness to take up William’s seat.

“As you all know, Aamir Machete was this board’s link to our former affiliates in the Middle East. It is greatly unfortunate that he, too, died in this unfortunate set of circumstances. However, we remain honoured to continue our partnership with Sefton & Grey and will continue to seek its counsel in relation to federal matters,” Jackson concluded.

Back in the field base, McGregor and Williamson were jotting down as much information as possible. This was all news to them. Through the Congressman’s tie pin camera, Langley was able to identify several interesting members in the room, including a Saudi oil minister and the Chinese Ambassador to the EU. There were also one or two home-grown oil billionaires dotted around the room. At the far end of the table sat a well-known New Zealand media magnate and a Swedish owner of a large commercial cargo company. There also appeared to be a NATO commander in attendance, Stephen Marriot, a Canadian General based in the Mediterranean. A representative from the Board of the Federal Reserve was in attendance. The final member of interest was identified as Jared Golden, Israeli Minister for Defence.

“Jesus, if you were trying to put together a committee to rule the world…” commented McGregor.

“Then you wouldn’t look far past the people in that room, I know,” replied Williamson.

Back on the stairs, Paddy had made it to the seventh floor. The door was indeed slightly ajar, held open by a ladder on its side. Everything was covered in plastic tarpaulin and there was a smell which indicated that the walls had been freshly painted. Paddy walked over to the door to the server room and removed the ceiling panel as instructed to get over the other side. Once in the room he quickly located the secure cable and planted the device to provide an uplink for Langley. He exited the floor and sprinted up the ten flights of stairs back to the seventeenth floor. As he composed himself and walked back into the corridor, however, he came face to face with Shannon.

“Mr. Trimble, I noticed you weren’t in your pod. What were you doing on the fire stairs?”

“Oh, I got a bit lost. I was looking for the bathroom,” replied Paddy.

“It’s over here, sir,” said Shannon, with a suspicious look on her face.

Meanwhile, Langley stepped up their efforts to download documents from Clarkson’s server. Back in the meeting, the Congressman was asked to leave as a vote took place regarding his proposed appointment. When Paddy exited the restroom, he walked over to the waiting area and sat beside the Congressman, giving him a quick wink as he sat down. They waited for several minutes before the Congressman was called back in. Paddy returned to one of the reflection pods and pulled out his touch pad to open a connection with McGregor. There he was able to get live access to documents coming through.

“I think there is going to be a bit of a process of discovery to go through for this. There’s over two million documents on this server,” said Paddy.

“Agreed, we have our guys at Langley looking into it,” replied McGregor.

Paddy waited patiently in the reflection pod. After about an hour, the meeting had drawn to a close, at which stage the Congressman returned.

“Well, what happened?” asked Paddy.

“It was a strange one if I am honest. The content of the meeting did not appear to provide the type of implicating evidence which McGregor had hoped for. Much of the discussion surrounded the building of new power plants in Africa,” explained the Congressman.

“That’s odd; it’s almost as if they knew we were listening,” said Paddy.

Paddy and the Congressman waited until Adam Scott had left the building before trying to make their own exit. As they walked out of the pod, Paddy heard a loud bang and then he felt nothing. When he came to, he was lying on the floor of boardroom with the Congressman and Robert Jackson seated at the far end. The Congressman was not wearing his tie pin and Paddy’s, too, had been removed.

“Mr. Trimble…How good of you to finally wake up. You’ve been snoozing away there for quite some time,” said Jackson. “The Congressman was just explaining to me how you and the CIA have concocted some sort of illegal operation on US soil in order to frame this organisation.”

“Wha… but…” said a dazed Paddy. His head was badly hurt and he had clearly been concussed.

“Don’t worry, your friends in the CIA have all been arrested by the FBI,” stated the Congressman.

“How could you, you traitor!” shouted Paddy.

The Congressman remained seated and just smirked at Paddy.

“He could, because he knew what was right. Things are now in motion that you cannot stop, Mr. Trimble. The Arab Spring has begun. The Keepers of the Persian Gate wanted peaceful revolution, but they could only get so far with it without the appropriate trigger. The Keepers didn’t want a major war with the West. However, the time has now come for precisely that. When we have that trigger, Israel will feel obliged to protect itself and it will act for its western counterparts by seizing the Suez Canal and by nuking targets in Syria and Iran,” said Jackson, moving closer to Paddy and crouching down at his head.

“You maniac!” said Paddy, spitting blood.

“You may think that, but when the trigger happens, the West will back Israel in its endeavours,” replied Jackson. “I know more about you than you think, Mr. Trimble. Former British Army Intelligence, experience in the Parachute Regiment, worked with the SEALs, International Criminal Court, and now the Army Legal Services. What a shame it was that Will lost his life in the way that he did. I’m sure he probably made an impression on you as well,” mocked Jackson.

“So you’re going to kill me now, I assume,” said Paddy.

“No, not before you are paraded in front of the media as the man who was planning a major terrorist attack in the US, and was working for The Keepers of the Persian Gate. Oh, I can see the headlines. Your obituary has already been written, courtesy of our men in the media. After all, you’re on the run from MI5, you’ve stolen a plane, you’ve been involved in the attack of two RAF planes, and now you’ve been caught trying to steal information from an organisation with significant links to the government of the United States. I’d say you’re going to prison for a very long time, Mr. Trimble, but you and I both know you’ll never make it to trial alive,” stated Jackson.

Suddenly there were sounds of gunshots out in the corridor.

“What the hell?” shouted the Congressman.

Robert Jackson turned to look at Paddy.

“Who did you call? What trackers do you still have on you?” said Jackson.

Company security burst into the room, grabbing the Congressman and Jackson and taking them to a secure part of the building. There was a firefight going on in the corridor. As the Congressman and Jackson left the room, Jackson gave a nod to a remaining armed guard who walked over to Paddy and pointed his gun at him. Paddy closed his eyes. A moment later, there was a shot. However, it hadn’t hit Paddy; it had hit the wall behind him. Paddy opened his eyes to see the man holding his hand out.

“Who are you?” asked Paddy, taking the man’s hand and pulling himself to his feet.