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SNAFU Part 43

by Angharad

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

*****

I had some more pieces of the jig-saw puzzle, but without the picture, construction was going to be difficult if not impossible. I’m not a very technical person, so planting a bomb is not amongst my usual skills. I know they say such things are available on the internet; but it wasn’t going to help because time was limited. There was also the fact that I wouldn’t be interested. I’ve seen people with blast injuries, limbs missing, lungs damaged and so on, it’s horrible, it really is and I find it hard to believe anyone in their right mind wants to do this to another human. It’s a strange world in which we live, with even stranger creatures walking on the face of it and man has got to be the strangest.

I was missing John. I was sure he’d have more idea than I did about positioning of explosives. I tried to think about what the bad guys were trying to achieve. Firstly they wanted to kill their president; secondly, they wanted to make it look like a terrorist attack from the outside by a lone aircraft. So what would they need to do to achieve it?

I began to scroll through page after page of plans of the building. After an hour I realised that the presidential apartment rooms were bomb proof, unless there was a direct hit with a nuclear weapon. If the bomb was inside, it would kill everyone within the rooms, but it would also be obvious what had happened to investigating teams. Despite the Kennedy assassination and September the eleventh attack, the evidence of an internal conspiracy was scant and I had confidence that an investigation would find the facts and eventually publish them. Unless the conspirators had some very heavy duty assistance to negate the findings, they were going to be detected. I suspected that involved too many people.

What else? Do it outside the apartments, but where? Somewhere near the roof or an external wall. It suddenly occurred to me that if I looked for recent building or decorating work within the past couple of weeks, I might find the required spot more easily.

“You gonna be on that dang blasted machine all day?” asked Cassie.

“Aw Cass, I just got to level two on Spider,” I groaned, but kept searching.
She continued whingeing in the background. I kept rattling computer keys and swishing the wireless mouse. “Bingo.” I said to myself.

“What?” asked Cassie standing behind me.

“Do you have an itinerary for the President?”

“Oh sure, like she consults me before she does anything!”

“There has to be one.” I insisted.

“If there is, no one is gonna show it to us,” Cassie waved her arms to emphasise the futility of what she knew I was going to ask next.

“There has to be someone Cass, who can tell us.”

“Cain’tcha find it on the computer?” she asked, hands on hips.

“If I could Cass, I wouldn’t be asking. I know you’re CIA, but even they must have taught you something about logic.” My irritation escaped my control and I regretted saying it immediately.

“You sayin’ I’m freakin’ dumb or somethin’, Missy Smartass, I come from Oxford, England don’t you know.” She rubbed her finger under her nose to indicate snobbery, “You’re the blonde here Missy.”

“I’m sorry Cass, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“Well how about telling me why ya need t’know?”

“Okay, they’re going to try and kill the President tonight. Don’t ask me how I know, but it’s true.”

“Holy-moley,” she said and stood looking bemused.

“I know how, but not where.”

“That’s why all the plans?”

“Yes. I know the attempt will be here, a single light aircraft.”

“It won’t do nuthin’, this place is bomb proof,” almost swaggered as she said it, as if to say, “So there!”

“Not quite. I’ve discovered two places where it might work. Besides, it won’t be the plane which kills her but the bomb inside the building.”

“What are you tryin’ t’ tell me; that there’s a bomb in this building?”

“Yes Cassie, a bomb; you know one of those things that goes boom and lots of people die.”

“Holy freakin’ moley, there cain’t be, security is like super tight, even more now the President’s here.”

“So how come I was able to go into the presidential apartments and kill someone without being seen?”

“You do some trick with the cameras an’ all.”

“If I can do it, so can they.”

“Oh shit!” she said.

“Of the deepest and smelliest kind;” I added.

“So you think there’s a bomb already inside?”

“I just said that Cass,” was she thick or was it the seriousness of the plot that made her seem slow, making sure about everything?

“How’d it get here?”

“I don’t know. When the IRA blew up the hotel in Brighton, the bomb had been there for weeks.”

“Omigosh!” she gasped, “Freakin’ holy moley, this is serious!”

“Just a bit, my government could be very embarrassed and more seriously, I could be very dead. Embarrassment I could probably live with, death could be difficult.”
Cass looked at me, I watched her lips moving as she repeated to herself, what I had just said. I watched her eyes flicker as she pressed ‘process’ and then the dawning.

“Ha, that is like so freakin’ funny.”

“In which case maybe if we tell each other jokes all day, we could die laughing instead of being blown up by some creep who can’t be bothered to wait for an election.”

Sadly, she laughed at that statement too. I began to seriously worry about the state of US humour, then thought about “Friends” and realised it had been dead for some years. Still, I wasn’t here to discuss comedy and concepts of humour, but to try and save some lives by frustrating a heinous plot - all in a day’s work for Superman! The problem was, he wasn’t here, I was.

“So who would know the President’s itinerary?” I asked without much hope.

“I could have a word with Todd Fox, I suppose.”

“His parent’s had a sense of humour,” I remarked.

“Whaddya mean?” snapped Cass.

“Well; a tod is a dog fox.”

“So!” she snapped again. Clearly her thinking processes were impaired by resurrection, which could have serious consequences for Christianity.

“Todd Fox,” I said and she looked blankly at me, “T-O-D-D F-O-X,” I repeated very slowly.

“Oh!” she said and giggled, “I see what ya mean.”

If this was to be my last day on earth, it looked as if it could be a long one if stayed in Cassie’s company much more. “We need to speak with this gentleman,” I proposed, “URGENTLY,” I said this loudly in case it had an effect upon her brain processes.
It did because she nodded and picked up the phone. “Security, have they lifted the alert yet? Oh good, is Mr Fox about? He is, can you send him up to us Captain Curtis needs to speak with him urgently? Thanks.” She put the phone down, “They’re gonna send him up.”

“Thank you Cass, you might have saved the day. If you haven’t, I can’t think of any American I’d rather die with.”

“You say the sweetest thangs, Jamie Curtis.” Then the penny dropped, “Whaddya mean, if it comes to the crunch we’ll have to evacuate. No one needs to die.”

“I think they will have covered that possibility.”

“Like how?”

“I don’t honestly know, but if their aim is to kill a specific person, they will do their damnedest.”

As we continued our largely pointless conversation, we were interrupted by a knock on the door, a friendly looking face looked around the door. “You wanted me, Cass?”

“Hi there, Todd, come along in an’ meet an alien.”

Todd stepped into the room looking bemused. He was tall, dark and handsome but not in a clichéd way. His sparkling white teeth dazzled me for a moment. I wondered how nearly all Americans have sparkling white, even teeth and the rest of the Western world has creamy, uneven ones?

“This here is Captain Curtis from planet Oxford. They all live in ivory towers and have greatly contributed to the demise of the elephant and the walrus. They talk all hoity-toity, mainly through their asses, or in her case, “arse”. They look sweet and inviting but are hazardous to health. Anyways, I’d like you to meet my new best friend, Jamie.”

I was taken aback by Cassie’s introduction, it was verging on humorous and showed that some of her brain was beginning to function. From the shocked expression on his face, Todd Fox, was also surprised.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Curtis,” said the handsome young man, proffering his hand.

I took it in mine and we shook hands, “And you, Mr Fox.”

“Huh,” said Cassie, “You were supposed to say, ‘How do you do?’, you Limeys are so unreliable!”

Still holding Fox’s paw, I shook it again and said, “How do you do, Mr Fox?” using a very plumy accent.

“Fine thanks, and how do you do?” said Fox. He looked at me and we both burst out laughing, when we looked at Cassie her expression nearly caused me to wet myself. Then all three of us swapped looks and laughed some more.

“So what d’ya want me for?” asked Todd Fox.

“Cassie thought you might be able to solve a little problem we have.”

“Can it wait, the President is due here anytime and I’m kinda busy,” he said apologetically but his eyes were dancing and I think were inviting me to tango.

“It won’t take more than a few seconds,” I said as innocently as I could.

“Well that’s about all I can spare.”

“I’m the liaison officer to the President, but someone has forgotten to give me her schedule, I wondered if you had a spare?”

His expression changed in an instant. “That’s classified Captain, nice to meet you.” He turned to leave the room.

“Mr Fox, please come back in and shut the door.”

“Sorry ladies, gotta go.”

“Mr Fox, if you want to save the President’s life I suggest you come back here now.”

He stepped back into the room, “You have two seconds,” his tone was almost threatening.

“Please don’t threaten me Mr Fox, I’m here to keep your President alive.”

“I think we can manage that well enough ourselves,” he was about to leave again when Cassie spoke.

“I think you’d better hear this Todd.” He looked at her, paused for a moment and nodded at me.

“I work for a British agency which answers directly to the PM, it is so secret even MI5 and 6 don’t know it exists.” He looked at me with more disbelief than anything, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, so my waffle was working.

“We’ve been working deep undercover for weeks and have discovered a plot to assassinate your President. Because we know there are some hostiles within the embassy, we’ve had to be careful who we inform. Your screening suggested you might be an ally.”

“I’m listening,” he replied, “but I’ve heard nothing that convinces me you know anything.”

“Okay, I shall tell you how it will happen, or at least how they plan it to happen. I have to swear you to secrecy.”

“You’d better save your breath then, because if I know of something I have a duty to inform my section head.”

“If he’s a bad guy, that means I have to kill both of you.”

“You’re very funny Captain.”

“The sergeant in the grandfather clock didn’t think so.”

“What do you know about that?”

“There’s no point in telling you, because then I would have to kill you.”

He stood up and was obviously posing for the hidden camera to get on tape what I had just said. “What do you know about the incident earlier today?”

“Mr Fox, my job is to protect the President at all costs. I am aware of a plot and that there are insiders involved. Cassie seemed to think you might help, I am now doubting that, you may go but before you do, you will do two things: firstly you will tell me what the President’s itinerary is; secondly, you’ll forget everything we have discussed.”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

I looked him straight in the eye and beyond, right into his soul. I clicked my fingers, he seemed to jump slightly, then he said almost mechanically, “What do you want to know?”

Over the next few minutes, he gave me detail of the schedule they had planned for the President, Cassie wrote it down. I thanked him for his cooperation and then said,” Mr Fox, you will forget everything we have discussed. You will believe you came here because you thought Cassie was setting you up with a blind date. You are very disappointed because you don’t fancy me. I’m too English for you, too stuck up and probably too expensive. You have also learned that I am engaged to an aristocrat, and way out of your league. However, you have reassessed your view of Cassie and find her irresistible. Now go, Mr Fox and think nice things about Cassie for the rest of the day.”

Without blinking, he left the room and Cassie started to laugh. “Whadd’ya do to him, hypnotise him, or somethin’?”

“Sort of, but it’s a bit deeper than that, I wiped his mind of our conversation.”

“Howd’ya do that?”

“It’s easy when you know how.”

“Yeah but how?”

“Sorry Cass, if I told you I’d have to wipe your mind after, so you wouldn’t be any the wiser.”

“Is it like NLP or somethin’?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I lied.

“Cool!” she paused to assess what she had just witnessed. “I like the implanting my ‘irresistibility’ into his brain, that was real clever.”

“I thought you might like it Cass, the only rider is;” I paused here to ready her for the big one, “If we don’t find this here bomb soon, we might not be around afterwards for you to enjoy his attentions.”

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed, then added, “You Brits have always gotta spoil things!”

“Well ever since you lot wasted a whole load of tea at Boston, we’ve had to watch you carefully. Please note, before your President was allowed into the country, we passed a law making it an offence to allow her access to a tea bag.”

“You are one crazy sonofabitch,” she laughed.

“No Cass, ever since the sex change, I’m a daughterofabitch, except my mother wouldn’t appreciate the term.”

Her response was even louder peals of laughter.

Back to the task in hand, I had considered all I had to do was to match the itinerary to the places I’d decided were at risk, and we should have our site of action. Sadly, nothing quite matched up, so we were no further forward. It was not turning out to be a good day.

“Things can only get better,” I told myself, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it. I was puzzled by the lounge in which I had dealt with the hostile guard. Why did I feel so uneasy in what was ostensibly a beautiful room? Was there something there, or could it be trap? Whoever was responsible for all of this would know how curious I am and that I was bound to pick up on the atmosphere if I survived the attack by the guard. So what were they thinking?

Cassie kept suitably quiet and produced some more Earl Grey, which I drank and enjoyed with a chocolate biscuit. “I need to go back to that room.”

“What room? said Cassie, munching on her biccie.

“The President’s lounge.”

“Okay,” she continued dunking her biscuit in her tea. “Oh shit,” she exclaimed loudly.

“Yes?” I said, expecting some long explanation about how we nearly died and so on.
Instead I heard, “I dropped my biscuit in my tea and it’s hot.”

“Would you like me to inform the President?” I said intending to make it sound rather cutting.

“No; she can buy her own biscuits,” offered my colleague.

I looked at my watch, it had stopped. I then went to look at the time display on the computer, it wasn’t working. Things were getting curioser and curiouser. “What’s the time Cass?” I asked and she casually looked at her watch, then looked up from it with bemused expression.

I felt the atmosphere in the room turning colder, they were coming after me, whoever they were. I pulled back the blinds in the office, the day was still light but the sun would be unlikely to find its way into this window.

“Feeling scared?” said a voice.

I spun around; there was no one but Cass in the room. She had put down her cup and was staring blankly ahead. “Oh no,” I said to myself. I hate it when they take over people I know and like, just in case they get hurt. This was a distinct possibility. The room grew colder.

“Cassie, can you hear me?” I spoke loudly and shook her. Her eyes were open but she didn’t respond to my stimuli, now we were in trouble. I had a few seconds at most to do something. I slammed shut the door and wedged a chair under the handle. Then turning to Cassie, I said, “Sorry about this,” and pressed on both her carotid arteries. She struggled for a few moments then became unconscious.
As I laid her on the floor something began trying to open the door. I slipped off her belt and tied her hands behind her back. The noise at the door was getting louder. Thankfully it was a fire door and would take some punishment before it gave in.
I had to get out from there, the ceiling had those suspended tiles. A plan was beginning to form. I threw open the window, then as the door was being loudly assaulted I moved a ceiling tile and to my relief saw a network of pipes and cables in a space of at least a yard. I grabbed my little bag and pulled myself up off the desk, using the computer monitor as a step.

Once up in the ceiling space, I lay along a narrow beam and repositioned the tile I had moved. It didn’t fit perfectly and I could see a very narrow slice of the room. I watched as they burst through the door, finding Cassie coming to and mumbling something I couldn’t hear.

“The window,” someone shouted, “She coulda got through there.” I heard footsteps rushing to the window. “Quick run downstairs and search the gardens.” Footsteps ran out of the room.

“Cassie, wake up girl. Who did this to ya?” The questioner was male and I could only see part of his back. “Who did this, Cass?” he spoke clearly enough for me to hear him so she should have been able to. “Was it that British girl? Was it Miss Curtis?”
I heard Cassie mumble something. “You sure about that?” I heard the man say. “Are you absolutely damned sure of that?” Cassie mumbled something else. “Okay, get the medics for her;” he said to another man stood immediately below me. Then he picked up a phone and said, “Security alert, station red. British agent, female with blonde hair and navy suit, believed to be intent on assassinating the president. Is armed and very dangerous, treat with extreme prejudice.”

“Oh my God,” I gasped in silence, the hunter was about to become the hunted and with a very short life expectancy. I would be shot on sight. The day was not improving and Cassie was still under the power of the unseen enemy. I couldn’t stay where I was for two reasons, they would find me eventually and secondly, I had to try and do my job because it was the only way I might get out alive. “Shit, shit, shit.” I said to myself, then I noticed my suit was covered in dust and cobwebs, “Oh bugger.”

There was barely enough light to see where I was or where I could go; however, I managed to make out in the gloom a series of these little crossbeams about every four or five feet, like the one on which I was laying. I stretched across and with some effort and snail like speed, I managed to crawl across the office and into the corridor beyond it. A guard was posted outside Cassie’s office, and the place was bristling with security men running up and down. I paused to listen but nothing was said I could hear and thankfully, no seemed to have heard me.

Big buildings can be disorienting enough when you have signs to follow or can ask for directions. It also helps to be able to walk about at a comfortable pace. In my ceiling space, it was hot, dusty and dark. My progress was slow and I wasn’t sure where I was going.

I tried to recall the plans I had been searching, but there were so many. I needed some help but who or what could help me. I was close to tears, except the effort of crawling over the crossbeams was taking too much effort to leave any for crying. Now was not a time to get all girly. The gun on my leg grew more and more uncomfortable, and my heeled shoes were not exactly designed for this activity.

As I crept along the ceiling space, I tried to think how they had got to Cassie and perhaps the man I had killed. Now I felt remorseful, if he’d been ‘taken over’ without his consent, it was too painful to think about. He was going to kill me, to do my job I had to stop him. Could I justify it? I was going to hand in my notice as soon as got back to the office, assuming that I got back. Think positive, they say, some days it’s harder than others.

I glanced ahead of me and shuddered, something moved. I froze, barely daring to breathe. I squinted to try and see what it was. I shuddered again when I thought I could see a pair of demonic eyes. “This is it by the look of it,” I told myself, feeling really certain I was going to lose any confrontation that occurred. I was too tired to fight anymore, exhausted from crawling along the beams.

I tried to see what rooms or corridor I was above, maybe I could drop down and escape. It was too dark and the eyes looked to be getting closer. I lay on the beam and tried to sit myself up. I did think about pulling out my gun, but shots would mean the security men would come and I had a feeling the eyes were otherworldly.

I tried to surround myself with light, but the eyes kept coming. I could hear some vague noise, a low rumbling noise. Whatever was going to happen was now moments away.