The deputy director was at a loss for words.
Graham understood. This kid wanted to take all the credit. If the operation succeeded in uncovering a major robbery, his path to promotion would be clear.
"Because of you, we caught a few small fry but let the main force get away." Graham's voice was icy. "The robbers in Edinburgh are the core of the 'Highland Freedom Army,' and McTavish is likely among them. Now they've disappeared with three million British Pounds, enough to buy weapons to blow Scotland sky-high."
The deputy director's face turned pale.
At that mont, the phone rang. Graham picked it up and listened for a few monts, his expression growing heavier.
"A suspected terrorist hideout was found on the outskirts of Inverness… an anonymous tip-off directly to the Military Intelligence Five hotline." He put down the phone and looked at the deputy director. "Do you think this is the sa 'concerned citizen'?"
"It might be a trap…"
"Of course it's a trap!" Graham slamd the table. "They're playing us! They give us a bit of sweetness, making us think we have control of the situation, then give real targets cover while we let our guard down! The robbery in Edinburgh was too smooth, suspiciously smooth. By the ti the police arrived, the robbers had just left, all surveillance failed, not a single witness! This is the work of a professional team, not a group of Scottish farrs!"
He stood up and paced around the office: "Soone is manipulating the 'Highland Freedom Army' from behind the scenes. Providing them with weapons, intelligence, helping them rob, and then giving us a clue when we are about to catch them, leading us to nab irrelevant small roles…"
"xico?" the deputy director ventured.
"Or the Phoenix Society, or both sides playing us." Graham stopped, "But whoever it is, Scotland has beco a powder keg. Today's two incidents will be on the front page of every newspaper: on one hand, police successfully counter terrorism, on the other, a bank gets robbed of three million. The public will be confused, afraid, and question whether the governnt really has the ability to protect them."
The phone rang again.
This ti it was the Minister of Internal Affairs calling personally.
"Graham, the Pri Minister has read the report. He wants you to solve the Scotland issue within forty-eight hours, either capture McTavish or prove the threat has been eliminated. Otherwise, he will consider authorizing the military to enter Scotland for 'temporary security control'."
"The military?" Graham inhaled sharply, "That would trigger a political earthquake! The Scottish Parliant would strongly protest, the European Union would condemn."
"Those people don't count for much! They think that if the terror threat truly exists, using the military to maintain order is a legitimate ans." The Minister of Internal Affairs paused, "Moreover, the Royal Family has also been threatened. Prince Charles is scheduled to visit Edinburgh next week, and the security departnt evaluates the risk as 'very high.' If he cancels the trip, it will be interpreted as the Royal Family being afraid, which would be a severe blow to morale; if he goes and sothing happens… you understand the consequences."
Graham hung up the phone, feeling a throbbing in his temples.
He walked to the window, looking at the night view of London. This city, which once ruled the world, now couldn't even manage its own backyard.
"Notify Scotland Yard and the military." He turned to his assistant, "Start drafting the 'Highland Operation' plan. If we can't catch McTavish in forty-eight hours, we'll have to consider more extre options."
"Including the military entering the city?"
"Including." Graham closed his eyes, "May God bless Britain."
At the sa ti, in Vienna, Austria.
Schönbrunn Palace was brightly lit, hosting a private dinner in the Winter Garden.
Over thirty guests in formal wear held champagne glasses and spoke in low voices. The band played a gentle waltz, but the atmosphere was sowhat oppressive.
Friedrich von Habsburg-Lorraine stood in the center of the hall, talking with the forr Austrian Minister of Finance. He wore traditional Austrian aristocratic attire, with a Golden Fleece Order on his chest, though a replica, it was exquisitely crafted, enough to pass for the real thing.
Really… very expensive.
Is a restoration free?
"The Vienna Conference will be historic."
Friedrich said, "Europe needs to return to its roots: order, hierarchy, tradition. Democracy has failed, look at Europe now: stagnant economy, immigration crisis, moral decay…"
The forr minister nodded politely, but his gaze was evasive.
His attendance at this dinner was mainly out of curiosity, not representing any official stance.
Although the Austrian Governnt allowed this "cultural heritage symposium" to take place, the Ministry of Internal Affairs had made it clear that it would not recognize any "political declarations."
Erin von Hornloehr ca over and whispered in Friedrich's ear: "Everyone is here, except the Württemberg and Braganza families, who canceled due to 'safety concerns'."
Friedrich frowned: "Cowards. But it doesn't matter, most of the influential ones are here, the conference will proceed as planned."
"Regarding security, Ivan reported everything is normal, there are police outside Schönbrunn Palace, our people inside, and all guests have been through security checks." Erin paused, "But I still suggest you leave early, Vienna hasn't been stable these past days, the police received several bomb threats, though they're all pranks, but..."
"I won't sneak away like a deserter."
Friedrich straightened his back, "The Habsburg family once ruled here for three hundred years, now I'm just back for a dinner, do I still have to be afraid?"
Erin sighed and didn't try to persuade him any further.
User Comments
0 comments from readers