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SNAFU Part 28

by Angharad

This is a work of fiction any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is unintentional.

*****

Chequers, is the country residence of the Prime Minister. It resides in countryside about 30 miles northwest of London, in the county of Buckinghamshire. I was instructed to get to Princes Risborough, where a car would collect me. It struck me as ironic, that had I been at home in Oxford, my dad could have run me there in the car in about half an hour. Instead, I had two hours by train then a wait at the station.
Being an official residence, means restricted access to the public. In other words, you go by invite or summons only! What I didn’t understand was, what was I doing on my way there? I knew I should feel out of place. I mean who else could be there? Assorted lords and ladies, diplomats, top civil servants, cabinet ministers and other politicians, that’s who. Plus anyone else I forgot and moi ! I had a sudden flash back to the muppets and Miss Piggy, and began to chuckle to myself. If I began to take things too seriously, I must remember to think of Miss Piggy, that would sort things out.

I sat on the station seat, my two cases by my side. It was a bright, warm day and I felt happy to feel the sunshine on my skin. I imagined my Sekhmet solar disk and felt the real sun charging up my imaginary one. It was never a bad idea to keep my battery topped up.

As I drifted into an almost dream like state, I suddenly felt a shadow before me. I opened my eyes and started as I saw a large man in front of me. “Sorry to disturb you Miss, are you Miss Curtis from Barbury?”

“Yes I am.”

“These your cases Miss?” he asked picking them up as if they were bags of air.

“Yes, they are.” I responded.

“Follow me Miss. Oh, I’m Reynolds, your driver to your weekend retreat.”

“My weekend retreat?” That sounded rather a strange way to describe the PM’s country house. Yet he knew my name. If he was anything other than the official driver, I wasn’t picking up on it. Maybe he was kosher.

I followed a few yards behind, trying to be ready in case I had to run for it. However, he was so much bigger than I, he could flatten me with one of his ham sized mitts before I could squeak. However, I decided to challenge him.

We got to the car, a Range Rover. “Look please excuse my paranoia, but can we just confirm where we are going. I had someone try to kill me a couple of weeks ago, and it makes me a little nervous to get into cars with complete strangers.”

“Of course Miss. I’m John Reynolds from the transport department of the Home Office. Here’s my ID card.” He proffered what looked like a genuine card, but not being an expert, I wouldn’t have known one from a fake anyway.

“I hope you have your invitation handy, it saves time getting through the security guards.” I nodded and produced the vellum coloured envelope with Downing Street stamp on it.

We got into the car. “Sorry to sound vague, but one can’t be too careful, never know who’s listening.”

I smiled and nodded. In a few minutes we were chatting comfortably and I had nearly forgotten where I was going. He asked me about the recent attack, so I gave him a brief rehash of it, without mentioning that I had been the one who did much of the shooting.

I noticed we were entering the village of Ellesborough, then a few minutes later we drove through a no entry sign. I nearly said something, but bit my tongue instead. Then from nowhere stepped an armed guard. He stopped us.

“Hi John,” he said to the driver, “Who y’got ‘ere?” Reynolds held up his clipboard, the man read it and compared it with his own. “Can I see your invite Miss?”

I passed the envelope to him, he opened and read it. “Seems in order Miss, but we can’t be too careful. Only the other week some soldiers were attacked on the way to one of the PM’s dinners. They killed a dozen terrorists, by all accounts.”

“Goodness,” I replied trying to strangle the laugh that was trying to escape my mouth. Then totally taking the piss, added, “Well I’m rather glad you’re here to protect me, unless you can get those soldiers here.”

“I’ll do my best Miss. Have a nice weekend.” He waved us on. My driver snorted as we went on. “He was on about the attack you told me about earlier, wasn’t he?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know of any others.”

“No, nor me. I’d heard it was three who got shot plus another captured.”

“Two were captured, including the driver. Three were killed and another wounded.”

“I’m told it was some nurse who did the shooting.”

“I didn’t see who did what,” I said, “it was all very confusing and I was too busy doing my impression of a headless chicken.”

“Pity.” He said, “I had you down as the dead shot queen of Barbury.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I replied blushing.

“You don’t have to be so modest, you know. I know who you are, and what you did in Iraq, Barbury and Luton. “

“If that’s the case why did you ask me then?”

“I hoped you might tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“’cos you’d be better informed than the papers were.”

“I’m not proud of having been responsible for someone’s death.”

“You’re not responsible Miss, he was for trying to kill you. He started it. You simply finished it.”

“I don’t know what I feel about it.”

“I was in the war in Iraq. Lobbed a grenade into a house full of hostiles. I killed five people and a dog. At the time, I didn’t think too much about it, heat of battle etc. Then about half an hour later, I couldn’t stop shaking. I still have flashbacks now, grenades tend to be messy.”

I shuddered as he told me his tale. Unlike the rest of the people I would meet this weekend, I had something in common with perhaps only one, my driver. We were both children of Cain. I don’t know if I felt better or worse for knowing it. Probably the former, but I wasn’t sure.

“Thanks for telling me Mr Reynolds.”

“You’re welcome Miss.”

We stopped at another checkpoint, my letter was examined again, and a police Land Rover escorted us to the house.

“Is security usually this tight?” I asked.

“Sometimes, sometimes worse, hangabout,” we were stopped outside the house and my papers examined yet again. The armed policeman, who looked at them said,

“When you enter the house, you will be given a security badge. Make sure you have it with you at all times during your stay. These guns are not toys, and they have been used.”

“Thank you officer. I shall do as you suggest.”

“I would Miss. Have a pleasant weekend.”

I looked at my driver. “Just what am I doing here?”

“Probably brightening up the old place quite a bit Miss.”

I smiled at him, and blushed. “Thanks for the ride Mr Reynolds.”

“You’re welcome Miss. I’ll collect you on Sunday some time and take you back to the station.”

I thanked him and went into the mansion, he followed me with my bags. I was at Chequers, but was no nearer knowing why.

I was led into an office, where my letter was checked yet again, and I was given the security badge. Once more the warning was reiterated about live ammunition. I felt less than safe knowing about it. It would be ironic to be shot dead by someone supposedly protecting me. I imagined tabloid headlines, which grew evermore lurid.

“Miss!” I jumped. “Sorry to startle you, but would you follow me. I’ll show you to your room. I followed the man along wainscoted corridors, past carved wooden doors and thick carpets. The furniture I saw looked old and expensive, none of your repro stuff here. This was the real thing, oak and mahogany, with lots of gold and yellows. I passed a painting of a mouse releasing a lion from a trap, by gnawing through a net. I approved of the mouse’s action.

My room was on the second floor. It was large and airy. I felt disappointed that the bed wasn’t a four poster, but it was a double with a brass bedstead, so it was grand enough, I suppose.

I hung up my clothes, then checked out the facilities. An en suite, as expected. The view was beautiful, sweeping countryside with a backdrop of the Chiltern hills. I stood watching the sun fade on the countryside, oblivious of the time and still not knowing why I had been invited.

I eventually managed to pull myself away from the view, and went for a soak in the tub. It relaxed me a little and I dressed for dinner. What was I supposed to do apart from eat?

I spotted a guide to the house, telling me of a gym and swimming pool, pointing out the best walks, the nearest church and bits and pieces of other useful gen. I would need to know why I’d been invited, it certainly wasn’t to use the place like a country club, at the tax payer’s expense. Maybe I’d find out at dinner.

While I was lost in my thoughts, a helicopter landed. It was carrying a very special guest, and the reason for my presence was soon to be made clear. I continued my toilette, doing my makeup and hair. Dinner was half an hour away, I needed to get a move on.

I was finishing my hair, when someone knocked my door. “Come in.” I called out. A moment later, I had the biggest surprise of my life.

“Hello sweetheart.”

“John? What are you doing here?” I looked at him, he looked well and wearing his dress uniform. “You look very smart.”

“I’ve come to take you down to dinner. But before I do, I want to thank you for saving my life.”

Still in some degree of shock, I simply shrugged my shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.” I said rather diffidently.

“That’s not what I heard. Don tells me, you played quite a part in my rescue. He sends his love by the way. Do you know what the cheeky sod told me?”

I shook my head, looking into those limpid grey pools and feeling a longing somewhere in my heart and somewhere well below it.

“He said to me. ‘What the hell are you doing with that girl of yours?’ He said, ‘For God’s sake make it up with her. She loves you to bits. You don’t deserve her you stupid sod. Make it up soon or someone else will snap her up. She’s too pretty to be alone for long.’ Well I always do what uncle Don says, so here I am.”

“So here you are.” I said looking at him, not knowing whether to jump on him or knock his head off. I knew what my heart said, but my head was now in control.

I don’t know if my hesitation sparked his conscience or what, but his manner suddenly changed from being cocky to almost embarrassed. He was blushing as he said, “I’d like us to try again, if you’ll have me back.”

I looked at my watch, “I think we’re supposed to be at dinner in two minutes, can we talk about this later.”

He blushed again. “Sure”, he said, then, “shall we go?” and he held out his arm for me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Walking you down to dinner.”

“Don’t be silly.” I gently upbraided him.

“I’m doing some liaison with the Yanks.”

“So are there some Americans here?”

“You didn’t hear the helicopter?”

“It practically blew the cover off my bed.”

“They came by that.”

“Who, the ambassador or someone like that?” I asked.

“Yeah, someone like that.”

“Oh,” I said. Pausing, I added, “So why am I here?”

“PM probably wanted some extra muscle around in case things got difficult. You know.”

“That is probably why you’re here, but not me.”

“I don’t know, maybe they need a lion tamer.”

“Very funny, I don’t think.” I noticed that John seemed to know his way around the house. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

“Just a bit.” He smiled at me, “I did a three month shift here on security, liaising with Special Branch. The food’s amazing.”

We walked a little further and he led me into a room. “Miss Curtis, Sergeant Anderson how nice to see you both again.”

“Prime Minister.” We both said and shook hands with him.

“I don’t suppose you’ve met President Carlton. Madam President may I present Nurse Curtis and Sergeant John Anderson. A couple of everyday heroes in our battle against terrorism.”

Talk about gobsmacked. Here I was, a nobody, shaking hands with the US President, and the first woman one. I felt very privileged. I mumbled something which I hoped was taken as, “Madam President”.

She shook my hand and said to me, “I’m glad you could make it, Jamie. I’ve heard much about you.”

I nearly fainted with…..I don’t know what. She had heard of me. The President of America had heard of moi. A vision of Miss Piggy flew into my mind, and I had to stifle it before I began to laugh. I know I didn’t want to take things too seriously, but this was serious. The last thing I needed to do was to embarrass myself in front of the two most senior politicians in the western world, so I suddenly thought ‘lioness’.

Why I don’t know, but I did. I caught sight of one of my girls behind the two politicians. John saw it too. I saw him momentarily blanch, then recover his composure, by which time I had caused my pet to vanish.

The two senior politicians led us into dinner, through a room where there were a dozen or more other guests. The place was crawling with secret service men and women.

We ate. Well everyone else ate, I played with my food while listening to Susan Carlton and Brian Green talk about their families, and things other than politics. Every now and again, I was asked for an opinion on something, but I tended to be overwhelmed and mumbled something unintelligible. I kept pinching myself.

After dinner, we were treated to an entertainment. A psychic magician was introduced as Dr Dee, presumably after the Elizabethan occultist and practitioner of Enochian Magick, amongst other things.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this guy, his energies felt strange. I wondered if I was just prejudiced against him, but the more I watched the more apprehensive I became. I decided he was a threat, not to me, but to…. Oh no, the President.

How was I to be sure of this? Jesus, if I get this wrong she could be hurt or I get very embarrassed and make myself look completely stupid. I needed to get inside the man and read his mind, or confirm my suspicions in some other way.

I imagined the time was running backwards from the end of his act, and I watched things happening backwards, like running a videotape on rewind. In horror I saw the knife fly out of the chest of the President and back up his sleeve. It was a small thin blade almost like a dart. He was doing a card reading trick and she, the president, was holding the card like a target for him. I let it wind back some more and then stopped it. I now knew the trick before the assassination attempt. What I didn’t know was how I was going to stop it.

Had I seen this really happen or was it all my imagination. He got to the trick before, the coin in the bottle. Oh shit, this is real. What do I do to stop it?

My head was spinning as I tried to think of a solution. He pulled out the cards.

“Madam President”, he said, “perhaps you could help me with this trick?”
She took the card, my mouth went dry. Suddenly, I stood up. “I know how this is done.” I said. I didn’t have a clue, but anything to buy some time. The man became a bit pale.

“I doubt you’ve seen it done like this, love,” he replied.

“I’ll bet you a tenner, I can show you a way you’ve never seen it done either.”

“Fine love,” he said, growing more agitated, “we’ll do it after I’ve done mine.”

“Oh, where’s your manners?” I said, “I thought it was always, ladies first.” By this time I had walked to the front of the group with him. I was taking his initiative, and he was struggling. There was definitely something not right about him. I went to grab the cards and he, snatched his hand back from me. He looked as if he was in some form of trance.

I fixed him with a stare, calling up a little help from a certain Egyptian goddess. That was whom he would be seeing. His eyes were out on stalks now and he was close to overload. Mentally I instructed him to freeze. He stood rigidly, his stare fixed on my eyes. I ordered him to close his eyes, and to fall into a deep sleep, while still standing up.

Behind me the natives were getting restless, and I waved them to be quiet. I placed a chair in front of him. Taking a card from him, I propped it up on the chair, with the help of a glass. I then told him that this was the president and he should finish his trick.

The assembled party heard my voice, the magician heard a much more powerful one, he could not resist. I clicked my fingers, he opened his eyes and did his trick to the empty chair at the last minute firing his deadly dart into the back of the chair. Then he went completely blank and was jumped on by two secret service men.
In the same moment, the president was whisked away as was the PM. The rest of us were told to stand while three other security staff held us at gun point.

Hushed voices of shock, with security men shouting firm instructions to us to be quiet. The man on the floor being dragged away with his hands bound behind him.
John whispered behind me, “You saved her life.”

I whispered back, “This time.” At the same time, something didn’t feel right. Like it was a set up, and I was supposed to intervene.

It could all be my imagination, but it felt like a test. I was lucky not to have been jumped on by the secret service as well. They were far from gentle with the magician, and they were also armed. It could have got very serious.

Eventually we were allowed to sit again, and drinks were passed around. I opted for a brandy. Not my favourite drink, but it helped to calm me down.

A man in a suit asked me to accompany him. I gave my drink to John, and followed him. I was led into a room where the PM, the President and a small group of senior looking security staff were gathered.

“I think I owe you my life,” offered the President.

“Well done Jamie,” said the PM patting my shoulder gently.

“You were never in danger were you?” I said to the President.

“What do you mean?” she replied, looking aghast.

“This was a set up. Someone here was testing me. If it had gone wrong and I hadn’t intervened, presumably one of these ‘suits’ would have done so. How, is the big question, and what would happen to the patsy, is another.”

“Is this true Mr Kapowlski?” demanded the president of some tall, middle aged man with very short brown hair.

“Ma’am, you were never in any danger.”

“I hope we were not a party to this Mr Tuck.” Said the PM to a rather distinguished, military looking man. Who in turn was shaking his head.

I am not sure if I believed any of them. I wanted very badly to go home. This was an alien environment, full of liars and twisters, movers and shakers. It was not my world at all, and I really wanted to be away from it.

I was very close to asking permission to leave, not just the room but the whole place. I wanted to go home.

“Thank you Jamie, that’s all for now.” I was dismissed by the PM.

I returned to the rest of the guests, finished my brandy and complaining of a headache, went off to bed. Oblivious even to the presence of John, I just needed some space.

Once in bed, I set one of my girls at both door and window, I switched off the light and tried to analyse what was going on. It made no sense, other than as a test for me. Was our lot in on it, was Mrs Carlton aware of it, who else knew, and why wasn’t John here trying to get into my knickers?

I rattled these thoughts around my head for an hour or more, the latter one becoming the overriding one. Was I going to give him another chance, and was he in on this deception, the schoolboy assassination attempt. It was like the Manchurian candidate minus Warren Beatty or Denzil Washington, depending on whether one liked the original or the remake.

Despite all these unresolved issues buzzing around my head, the brandy eventually won and I slept.

The next morning, I borrowed a costume and went swimming. I was returning from that when I was accosted by the distinguished military looking man, from the night before.

“Miss Curtis, could you come with me?” It was said in a way which while not an order, brooked no disagreement either.

I was wearing some jeans and a top, my Reeboks and had a towel around my hair, turban style. “Can I go and change first?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’d like to show you something.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No.” He took my arm and led me down some corridor to a lift, whereupon we went to a sub basement area. It was well underground. He led me through a couple of rooms and we eventually came to a shooting gallery, or firing range.

He handed me a pistol. “I hear you are handy with one of these, care to show me what you can do?”

“Not really.” I snorted back, handing him back the gun.

“I insist.” He said trying to push the wretched object in my hand.

“Piss off.” I snapped and turned to leave, but the door was locked.

“Please,” he said, proffering the gun again.

“What’s to stop me taking this and emptying it into you?” I snapped at him.

“Absolutely nothing, but it would all be on film, so you wouldn’t get away with it.” He nodded at a camera. I suspected there were more, and the whole place would have cameras for the security boys anyway.

It looked like I was going to have to do what he wanted. “Why should I do what you want. I don’t even know who you are?”

“Sorry, how rude of me. I’m Commander Tuck, Special Branch.”

“What are you testing me for?”

“All in good time, young lady.”

“Tell me now, or I won’t play ball.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“Why what are you going to do about it?”

“I believe you have some affection for young Anderson?”

“I used to. Your information is out of date.”

“It might be, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop me having him sent somewhere very dangerous, like Afghanistan.”

“I can’t stop you.”

“Said with some detachment, but I don’t believe it. You can stop me, by simply cooperating. I can tell you it would be well worth your while.”

“All I want is to be as far away from here as possible, away from all of your double talk and double dealing. I think you all stink.”

“I’m sorry you feel like that, but you will leave here more safely if you cooperate, and of course more quickly. Cooperate and it will all become clear. Please, it sounds very bad, but it actually isn’t. What I want you to do, is very interesting work and will only take a few weeks of your time. It will look very good on your CV. Plus you’ll have plenty of tales to tell your grandchildren.”

“I don’t like you Mr Tuck, so why don’t you just tuck off! Or words that sound like it.”

“I do like women with a bit of spirit.”

“You patronising old fart.”

“When you have quite finished your schoolgirl tantrum, can you show me how well you can shoot this thing.”

“Fuck you!” I mouthed at him, then taking the pistol, checked it, put it down, put on the safety mask and ear defenders. Then taking aim fired it all over the place.

“Very funny. You’ve had your joke now do it properly.” He said passing me a new clip.

This time I tried, and put all six rounds into the target.

“You’ve obviously done this before.”

“Yes, but usually they’re Arabs.” I mocked at him trying to sound ironic.

“Oh yes very droll.” He commented, “Please, again.” He handed me another clip.

This time I decided to shoot them a bit more subtly. There were three lanes to the range. I put two shots into the target in each lane. They were close to the centre. It was the only thing I had actually learned in the army, how to shoot a gun, that, and marching round in circles.

“What the hell?” exclaimed my unwanted companion.

“I’ve done what you wanted now let me go, or I shall do something with this gun which will embarrass your proctologist.”

The door magically opened, and I walked through it casually throwing the gun over my head as I left. Whatever it was these bastards wanted me to do, I was not going to do. They could rot for all I cared. If this was what fighting terror required, I was going to desert, and soon. I was not going to hurt anyone else, unless they did something to John, and then I would wreak revenge on Commander Fuck’s entire family.

Muttering to myself as I walked back to my room, I was challenged by a security guard, and I didn’t have my magic badge with me. “I’m a legitimate guest here, who has just left Commander Dick head, or was it Commander Fuck. Anyway it’s something like that. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m sorry Miss, but you’ll have to come with me.” he grasped my arm and for some reason I saw red. I decided I wasn’t going anywhere with him or anyone else.

“Take your hand off me.”

“I’m sorry Miss, I have to insist.”

I am not sure how many of you know, but lions kill by knocking their prey down and smashing the ribs, before biting on the windpipe and suffocating their prey. A lion is quite capable of crushing a man’s skull with a single blow of its paw.

Something my would be captor didn’t know was I could make an imaginary lioness do the same. However, I didn’t want another death on my conscience, so I asked my pet to pull the punch a little.

I don’t know what the camera saw, but I saw a lioness sneak up behind him, knock him down and rattle his brains with a fairly hard whack. I shook my head as I heard his head hit the floor in a recoil. He was well and truly unconscious but still breathing. I quickly left him in the coma position and went back to my room.

I knew things would now get a bit sticky, and I was unsure as to whether I stayed there and face the music or try to leave and see what happened. If they shot me, too bad. What I didn’t want to happen was, for someone else to get hurt.

I dried my hair, put on some tidier clothes, my ID badge, and some makeup. I had just finished when the door was knocked. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Then calming down, realised that it was unlikely to be a SWAT team knocking on my door.

“Yes.” I called.

“It’s me, John.”

I opened the door. He slipped in and shut it quickly behind him. “What have you done now, upsetting old Tuck?”

“He started it.” I pouted back.

“You also put one of the local security guys in hospital, with concussion. They are still trying to work out how you did it. I’ve seen the video tape from the corridor, he goes down as if pole-axed by the invisible man.”

“He’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point. You can’t just go around laying out security guards because they upset you.”

“Why not?”

“For God’s sake, Jamie, grow up.” He was cross with me and I felt my bottom lip tremble just a bit.

“I’ve had it with these guys. They won’t tell me why I’m here, they threaten to send you on suicide missions. Why won’t they tell me?”

“Work it out for yourself. Who did we meet yesterday?”

“Susan Carlton.”

“She’s passing through this weekend. In about two months she’s due here for an official visit.”

“So.”

“Goodness Jamie, for a clever kid you can be awful thick.”

“I don’t know what you are saying.”

“Given your special intuitive powers, they are going to include you in the protection squad.”

“What?” I gasped. No wonder that old fart said it would look good on my CV.

“Not only that but it’s at the specific request of the PM himself, to which she has agreed after last night’s demonstration.”

“It was a set up, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but only a couple of people knew about it, to make it more real.”

“They were going to kill the magician, weren’t they?”

“I don’t know. It’s taken me quite some time to find out this little lot so far. It’s NSA, so things are very tight.”

“I thought they launched rockets and things.” I said looking bemused.

“Jamie, concentrate please. You are thinking of NASA, the space agency. I said NSA, National Security Agency.”

“They’re always the bad guys in the X-Files.”

“Believe me, they are ten times worse than the X-Files. Mulder would really have his hands full messing with this lot. Even with your pussy cats, you would have a very short lifespan if you mess with them.”

“I’ll bear it in mind.” I said, thinking how his eyes darken when he’s cross.

“Anyway, Commander Tuck wants to see you.”

“So whose side are you on?” I asked.

“Jamie, if you have to ask, I’m not sure if we have a future.”

“That’s up to you, but let me know if they send you to Afghanistan, I’ll knit you some mitts.”

He led me back along corridors to a large office. Inside was the offensive Commander and another man I recognised from last night as one of the Americans.

“Ah Miss Curtis, so glad you could spare us the time.” He smiled at me with his mouth but his eyes were not amused. “Please have a seat. This is Mr Kapowlski, who you met last night. He is with the American secret service.”

I sat and glowered, not saying anything.

“Tell me, Jamie, how did you zap the chap in the corridor?”

“As you seem reluctant to tell me anything, you can work it out for yourself.”

“I see, still in schoolgirl mode are we?”

“Want me to show you, do you?” I had great difficulty not smirking as I said it, and before he could say anything, I imagined both these clowns being knocked over by a lioness, but not knocked senseless. They were arguably there already.

A moment later, they were both lying on the floor. Mr Kapowlski flat on his face and Tuck under his desk, with his chair on top of him.

I sat motionless, while the American picked himself up then helped his counterpart up. They were both red faced and breathing heavily.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” snarled the angry secret serviceman. I could smell his breakfast on his breath. It was as foul as he was. “How did you do that?”

“Very easily. Want another try?”

“Do that again, and you’ll be very sorry little girl.”

This time I stood up and kneed him in the groin. “Threaten me mister and you’ll be very sorry.”

I glanced at Tuck, who was trying not to laugh at his colleague who was turning purple and breathing very deeply. “I’ll get you for that, you little bi….”

Before he could finish the sentence I imagined his trousers and underpants falling round his ankles. Tuck had to hide his face behind his hand, he was laughing so much. “Think it’s funny do ya?”

When I imagined his dick falling off, he fainted for some reason.

“Miss Curtis will you please desist from this Harry Potter game. You have made your point.” Demanded the British security man. He went to help his visitor, whom I had restored to his previous degree of intactness.

There was a delay while he got his breath back, and I began to appreciate the powers I seem to have been given, or was developing. I was tempted to fool around with these two much more, but decided that would be unhelpful to all of us and abuse of the power.

“I take it you don’t want me to show you again?” I said smiling broadly.

Looking flushed, Kapowlski, shook his head. “I don’t think it will be necessary, Miss Curtis. Why not just tell us how it’s done.”

“I don’t know, and if I did I wouldn’t.”

“That’s your final answer, then?”

“Yes.”

The two men looked at each other, as if uncertain as to how to proceed. I intervened again, “So far no one is telling me why I am here. I should therefore like to leave.”

“By all means if you’d like to return to your room.”

“No Mr Tuck, I mean go home. I don’t wish to stay here one moment longer, please give the PM and the President my apologies, but I have exams to study for and thus more important things to think about. If you need me again just call on the ‘Bat-phone.’”

With that, I rose to leave.

“Sit down you little bit…” snapped an American voice.

I stood up and rose to my full height, which with solar disk is about ten feet. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” I heard the same voice declare. I then focused my attention on the door which was still burning as I blasted a hole through it, about ten feet in diameter. It was Jamie who walked down the corridor and who appeared on all the video tapes, but I left two incoherent men behind me. For some reason, they were both replaced the same day having gone on indefinite sick leave.

I returned to my room, and asked the PM’s secretary if I might go home. I was told he wanted to see me, and could I wait. I spent the time packing.

“Thank you for coming Jamie, I’m sorry that you didn’t enjoy it more.”

“I’m sorry too Mr Green, but the pressure and games your security men played with me were disgraceful.”

“What did you do to them?”

“I did nothing, they did it to themselves.”

“I’m just a simple politician, Jamie, explain please.”

“I appear to be connected to something bigger than I understand, they tried to tap into this something and you know the rest.”

“Are you suggesting some sort of power? Like a metaphysical power?”

“I’m not suggesting anything, but people who play with fire risk getting burnt.”

“Are you at risk?”

“Not if I behave myself.”

“Are we at risk?”

“I don’t believe so. This energy has been here for thousands of years, several have tried to access and control it, they all came to the same end. I am a servant to it, as are you.”

“You are talking as if this thing was an act of God, the power of the Lord.”

“How you view it will depend upon your philosophy, some may see it as God or an angelic thing, others might see it differently.”

“So if you had this power before, why did you shoot those terrorists?”

“It has grown since then.”

“So is it safe?”

“Oh yes.”

“Are you safe? Is there anyone who can help you to understand it, keep it safe?”

“Thank you for your concern. I’ll accept your questions at face value. However, please don’t consider making me safe by eliminating me, because that will annoy the power and there will be consequences. Louis XVI annoyed it, I think you take my meaning.”

“What did Louis do?”

“He killed the messenger.”

I decided I would reinforce my message using the man’s own imagery. I knew he was seeing wings sprouting from my shoulders and an aura of light around me.

“Messenger, as in Greek, I suppose?” he said. I said nothing but smiled angelically at him. It was all in his imagination. Powerful stuff imagination.