The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2591 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Somehow I remained awake all morning. Daddy insisted I go to lunch with him but in my car—it was no big deal and as I had my own parking spot, coming back to the university would be okay.

“We’re going tae need a new vice chancellor,” he said after our usual orders were taken.

“Aren’t they usually elected?”

“Aye.”

“So how did Gasgoine get the job, it must have been more fixed than JFK’s presidency.”

He shrugged.

“Well I’ve got my hands full trying to keep the council functioning. Delia is doing more typing for that than my department at the moment. Any sign of Dr Long or his idiot son?”

“No as far as I ken.”

“I hope they’re okay.”

“So ye can prosecute them?”

“No, that might yet happen if they turn up alive; but I’ve a horrible feeling they might be late of this world.”

“It’s very suspicious and disnae look guid. Whit happened tae yon Russian in the drive?”

“Chas or Dave shot him.”

“Is he alive or deid?”

“I don’t know. James and one of them took him away according to Trish. Then he was trying to kill me.”

“Whit are MI5 daein’?”

“I have no idea. For all I know they might not be doing anything at all.”

“They are thae secret intelligence service, or suppose tae be.”

“That’s a joke too.”

“Whaur is James Bond when ye need him?”

“We’ve got James Beck instead, Daddy. He’s human unlike Bond who’s just a licensed killer.”

We ate lunch, then I drove him back from Franklin’s to the campus. He waddled off to his office for a snooze. I went back to mine and over the next hour or so I dictated a dozen letters for Delia to type up and send. One of these was calling the next council meeting in two weeks time which I hoped would enable us to select a decent couple of candidates for the vice chancellor job. I was also hoping we could reduce the ridiculous salary it commanded. Sadly some of that is controlled by external agencies over which I have no influence much of it, like the old boy’s network which fixes banker’s salaries or that of CEOs of huge companies with little or no input from shareholders, except the huge pension funds whose own CEOs are similarly appointed. Who says this is an elected democracy? Governments don’t decide things anymore than electorate do, we’re run by big moneyed corporations.

After collecting the girls I saw Jim’s Porsche parked in the drive. Once the girls had made a fuss of him and gone up to change I managed to speak briefly with him. “Was that man dead?”

“Which one?” He indicated we should speak away from any potential cameras.

“You know which one.”

“No, he was badly hurt but still alive when we handed him over to the authorities.”

“But you said trash like it happens everyday. I assumed you meant someone who had died.”

“We could hardly tell everyone now, could we?”

“I suppose not, but I’m glad you didn’t let him die.”

“Chas was a sniper. It was his shooting which took the guy down after you ran away.”

“He said he was taking me prisoner.”

“I take it you didn’t want to go.”

“No.”

“Well then, problem solved.”

I wasn’t so sure but I accepted his word at face value.

“I don’t understand why they continue to try and buy High St.?”

“It’s just the right size for them. If they were any bigger they might not be able to control it, any smaller and it wouldn’t be able to handle the money laundering. High St is just the right .” At the phrase, ‘money laundering’ I see thousands of banknotes being loaded into washing machines—total nonsense, but that’s what I see.

“I know they tried to use monies from the university which they were going to use to destabilise the bank by hacking the computers and implying the money was from somewhere else.”

“Sounds like the sort of things they do—why didn’t it work?”

“In a word—Sammi.”

“She could be at significant risk, especially on a crowded commuter train—little jab—an hour later she’s dead.”

I grabbed my mobile and sent Simon a text to keep Sammi safe. He sent one back saying we were on their way home. “I think you need to speak to my lord and master and explain in words of one syllable how they could kill either or both of them.”

“Of course—I’ll do it when they get home.”

“Thank you. Losing one was bad enough, losing two would push me over the edge.”

“I’ll do what I can. The problem is perpetuated by the stand-off between Russia and the west over Ukraine, so their government of assorted malefactors isn’t likely to be listening to anything we say. The sanctions are hurting but they’re a proud lot and the people are in such thrall that they support anything the government asks them to do, even if common sense says it isn’t logical, valid or sensible. So calling off their dogs won’t be easy.

“The only advantage we have is that we’ve reduced their numbers a little so that will take a few weeks to bring up to scratch unless they use a...I’ll try and speak to my contacts...”

“Use a what?”

“My contacts?”

“You said they might use a what—what did you mean, or leave out?”

He blushed, “It’s not important.”

“Obviously it is or you’d have said it—now what was it?”

“A death squad.”

“You mean kill one or all of us?”

“I could be wrong, things might have changed since I was in the SBS.”

“I thought the current clown was a reactionary, so he’ll be looking at the historical model of Soviet influence or even delude himself into thinking he was some sort of latter day tsar—hence his expansionism. What with him and his cronies and the mad Islamists in Syria, the world has become a far more dangerous place.”

“It’s always been dangerous, it’s even more so now.”

“Jim, I’m not going to argue because I suspect we broadly agree. But death squads—how do we stop them?”

“Good question, just be thankful you haven’t pissed off the Israelis—then you would be dead.”

“Good assassination squad have they?”

“One of the best, why?”

“Just asking, that’s all.”