Chapter 26
Mr. Beast
A message comes through in text, an urgent one. “Wrong time, baby,” I mutter.
No choice though. I will have to answer when they call.
John is about to ascend the stage and the crowd here is raucous. The usual protestors are waving signs outside the front glass door. I check around from where I stand beside the stage steps. Nothing. Nothing. My phone rings and I make sure the group mic is off.
I answer it. “Go.”
“They’re asking for DNA of a sample found on a wall in St. Katherine’s.”
“What’s the location?”
“Next to the rear door into the Landers store. About five or six feet up.”
“Shit. Intercept that. Process it. Tell me the result. Do not tell them.”
“Got it. It’s been intercepted of course. This is concerning however.”
Damn. John is coming. I hold up a hand and he nods. The rest of his security has formed a box around him that moves with him.
I come to a fast conclusion. “We prepare for the worst. Send them an invite and pick them up tonight.”
“Tonight? Do we have anything ready?”
“Just do it, D.”
I press END, tuck away the phone, then usher John up to the stage, taking the steps with him, side by side.
“Problem?” he asks.
“No, sir. Being handled.”
“Good.”
The guy on the mic is making the announcement, so we wait behind the curtain.
“And here is our special guest, John McNicol, the man we think will make a great Prime Minister of this country, one day. A day that cannot come too soon. Let’s hear some applause!”
The gathered crowd of defence and military related personnel, as well as advisors in the industry from other countries, begin a fairly loud applause.
“Good luck, sir.”
He pauses. “So it’s them? Being fixed?”
“Yes, sir. Fixed with extreme prejudice.”
“Good man. I’ll want to see the film afterward.”
“Yes, sir.”
He springs out onto the stage and strides toward where the MC is waiting.