CHAPTER 56

Even though this place may have looked like a first class, completely modern, brand new, world class, airport, Mary realized it was anything but. She certainly knew her airports since in her career, as a civil servant, she had probably been through most of the big ones on planet earth, several times even. Coven Hill would put them all to shame despite the fact that it really was not an airport. It did have several runways but, all of them were more for servicing than anything else and, this area, did not cater to that. If Mary had remembered correctly, the original UN plans actually called for an international air center here but, preexisting air traffic patterns, namely out of Heathrow and Cardiff, made such a place impractical.

Then again, Mary wondered about that story too. Maybe it was just her cynical side, the one that her job depended on, that made her disbelieve any story that she heard but, there it was. Mary had to consider that Coven Hill had been declared an international zone under the control of the United Nations. Of course Britain was being compensated for this and, in fact, the deal was much like a rental agreement but, not one bit of revenue that this place generated was taxable by the government of the United Kingdom. What it amounted too, for Britain, was waking up with a gold mine on your property, only to find out you had signed away the mineral rights to that spot and the guy who now had it was also the new renter.

There had to be some people in Britain that were not all too happy about it. That was why Mary suspected the real reason why any air travelers, that came here, except for people on official business like her, were going to be coming through Heathrow and taking a train or bus up here. It was a way for the Britain to cash in. Still, that was like begging for scraps from your own table and, again, there could not be a lot of people who were that happy about it. When you tossed that in with the people who were just plain livid about the idea that Coven Hill, the Dell, and Feyland even existed at all, what you had were a growing number of concerned citizens with what they considered a major problem. Mary had seen that happen in other places before and, the result of that was never a good thing.

That was why Mary had picked the little spot that she did in the lounge. From here she could watch the British media and not the feeds from the US cable channels. You could find a place in this lounge that serviced any number of different languages and nations but, Mary already knew what was going on back home and, right now, those other countries didn’t concern her. Britain did and, while there was nothing on the television that was particularly news to her, she could get a sense of attitudes and, sometimes, those were more important than facts.

The anchor on the television was running the latest tangent story on the missing foreign nationals in Feyland. Back home they were saying “missing Americans.” Here they were concentrating on a list that was far wider since every embassy over there, no doubt, had people that were out on the street when the violence started. In this particular case, they were talking about an American but, never really called her that. Mary almost wanted to laugh at that observation.

The anchor told his audience, “Patricia Walsh, someone who is well known in our field, is an independent journalist for the Associated Press and, our sources in Washington have told us that she was imbedded with the American Military that are currently conducting operations in the Feyland Empire.”

Again, Mary wanted to snicker. That was why miss Walsh had not made the news back home yet, the British had plastered her face all over everything. The White House was down playing the fact that US troops were over there while the British were trying to make an issue of it. It was comical as international relations often were. That was particularly true when they were played out on television but, Mary could never help but get the feeling of how it all sounded like jealous little children calling each other names and crying about spilt milk. Did any of them really care about what was actually going on? It was as true here in Britain as it was back home, the news had not once asked the most relevant question of all, why was the situation in Feyland what it was right now?

Mary supposed it was just as well that the news had not asked such a question. If they had then they would be disappointed because, as of yet, the only people with any answers were not saying. Those people were the elves. Their embassy here in Britain, in New York, and in DC were not saying a word about anything right now. You would think that the media might report that but, so far, they had not uttered anything on the matter. They were sticking with their usual meal tickets, the juicy stories that were made more for entertainment than information.

Most of this was information that Mary would have filed away as background that might be useful at a later date. Maybe that was even true but, Mary had a sense that it was all very relevant right now. It had a great deal to do with why she had flown across the Atlantic, on short notice, and was sitting here in this lounge, waiting on her “date.” That thought led her to look back up at the television where they showed another file photograph of the missing reporter. This time Mary looked at the woman with a more personal kind of eye.

The photograph, that the news service had of this Walsh woman, was more candid and probably taken in some third world shit hole by the looks of it. The woman was dressed in tan shorts and shirt, a bandana tied around her head, and she had on sun glasses. She was smiling and she looked to Mary like the kind of woman you might call, perky? That made Mary think about her estranged husband Bob. They had both been in Feyland for some time and this Walsh was attached to his battalion. Had they met? Patty shook her head at that, of course they had but, what she really wondered was, had they really met. She might look sporty and earthy in that picture but, Mary would bet that woman probably cleaned up good. She was just Bob’s type too.

None of that really mattered. Mary had to make herself remember that and this was particularly true when the guy she was meeting showed up. Again, Mary had to figure it was just her luck. While her lawfully wed was getting to hang out with perky reporters, she got stuck with this guy. He was short, dumpy, balding, and looked almost like a bad comedian. Sometimes he pretty much acted that way too. Mary realized his bumbling routine was mostly an act but, Wolf Spivey was anything but, what he appeared to be on the surface.

Spivey acted like he was in a hurry today and he nodded for Mary to follow him for a walk. They took a leisurely tour of the facility and that was fine by Mary since she had not seen most of it since they began putting the finishing touches on. She was particularly impressed by the twenty foot, larger than life statue, of the elf Emperor, that was surrounded by a fountain and light show, that graced the entrance to their welcome center. Spivey acted as if he wanted to laugh at it.

Spivey, also, finally got around to the point, “all right, what’s this all about?”

“Gee Wolf,” Mary replied, “I don’t know but, you would have never come unless you thought you could get something for it. The real question in my mind is, how much do I trust you?”

“After all these years dear sweet Mary,” Spivey replied. “Side’s love, it’s not a matter of trust we’re talking here. This is just business.”

“Yeah it is,” Mary agreed pleasantly enough, “only I’m not all that sure who I’m doing business with anymore.”

“If I’m reading the situation right,” Wolf told her, “then you’re looking for somebody and you think I know where they are. My question is, who is so bloody important that it would get you on an airplane flight across the Atlantic, at such short notice. I know what you’re doing at Langley these days and I know what’s really going on in Feyland, so, I have to be asking myself some pretty hard questions at the moment.”

Mary rolled her eyes as she walked along, “oh brother, you really think you have something Wolf.”

He giggled, “why is that love?”

“Cause you wouldn’t have bothered trying to qualify everything unless, what you want is a lot more important than what I do,” Mary said point blank and serious.

“Maybe so,” Spivey replied with a shrug. “Course, you wouldn’t be so damn cryptic unless you’re wondering if you should even ask me.”

Now Mary stopped and squared off with the guy, “let me just say that, we believe your people are not so solid as we might have once thought.”

Spivey laughed, “I hope that’s not a comment on my professional abilities.” When Spivey got no reaction he shook his finger at her, “you think I might be compromised, is that it?” Spivey acted like he had the biggest secret in the world but, he also hammed it up as he winked at her and said, “spy vs. spy here Mary. You got good reason to worry about that.”

Mary crossed her arms and then wanted to slap her forehead, “you’re still reading those dopey cartoons?”

The guy was quite chipper, “they make me laugh. Now why don’t you just ask me your question, and then maybe we’ll go from there.”

“Carol Somerset,” was all Mary had to say.

The reaction she got was not quite expected. Mary could see that she confused Spivey and, even alarmed him a little. Then he winced and made a funny face as he asked, “what the hell would you want her for?”

Mary remained serious, “that’s my business Spivey. Now what’s the price so I can consider if I’ll pay it or not.”

Spivey did really laugh now and Mary did not find it funny. Spivey had to explain himself, “well you got to admit, it’s kind of funny. I mean the CIA can’t find a woman who makes her living in the public eye. It’s just down right…” When there was still no humor coming from the American, Spivey sobered up and said two words, “Tin Man.”

Mary remained passive, “what’s that?”

It was now Wolf’s turn to roll his eyes, “are we really going to play these games? I thought you and I were past all that?” When the American did not even blink, Wolf continued, “I had a little Russian bird that whispered in my ear. Once you get past the vodka on their breath, Russian birds quite often have such sweet music to sing.”

Mary still remained passive, “I can’t help you with that Wolf. I don’t know anything about it. Maybe if you could come up with something that’s a little more on my pay grade?”

The guy deflated and again, he almost exaggerated the way he did it, “oh very well, if you insist. Who you are looking for is in Paris. I don’t think you should concern yourself with that, all too much, she’ll be back in New York in a day or so.”

How did he know that? Mary considered that he seemed fairly certain of this and strangely enough about a woman that, his actions made clear, was relatively unimportant. Mary realized that she had also taken way too much time when considering what he said. That was because Wolf watched her as she did, figured it was an advantage, and then asked, “now was that all? I just have a hard time believing you spent all that time and money to ask me that.”

Mary gave him a little and as she walked off as she said, “thank you Wolf.” She went right back to the American Delegation and straight down to the secured operations center. At first the little dick of a com officer did not want to give her access to anything. He called his boss, the duty officer, and Mary finally had to tell him, “Bad Wolf.” The duty officer then went and checked the phrase in his updates. He was quite flustered when he returned. He was also quite apologetic with Mary and quite gruff with his own people when he ordered them out of the actual com center. Mary just politely thanked the man when she kicked him out and then closed the door.

Picking up the secured line, that was a direct and secured satellite feed to her target, Mary waited as it beeped. Then a woman picked up on the other end and told Mary, “please hold.” Mary waited, and then waited some more, and then finally she got through. She said, “Mister President, they know.”

When Frank put down the phone he looked up at his Secretary of State, the guy who would be taking this office from him, and was quite flustered. Bill Devon was sitting across the desk from his soon to be departing boss, and had a lap full of folders. Corbin was also there, playing gopher mostly today, and they had a small team of people assisting him. It was a transitional meeting that included people from both staffs and, in particular, some of those who were on both the old and the new teams. International crisis be damned, the bureaucracy of Washington DC still had to be served.

Bill was no longer so interested in the files in his lap and no one had to tell him anything. He saw the look on Frank’s face and he asked, “that was Mary, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied in a downtrodden way. The guy looked really worn out these days, always. He felt every bit of how he looked and he acted so tired when he waived to everyone but Bill, “give us the room people.”

When everyone cleared out, Bill set aside the files and stood up, “Ok Frank, she was supposed to be running down Somerset. I know, because I’m the one who sent her to Europe. What the hell just happened, now?” When the President did not answer, Bill erupted, “you went and did something that you didn’t bother to tell me about, again!”

Frank suddenly became more firm as he said, “I haven’t done it yet, not anything substantial and yes, you were briefed on this Bill.”

“I know your looks Frank,” Bill stopped and stabbed the Resolute Desk with his finger, “something just went really balls up. What was it this time?”

Frank grumbled beneath his breath and then said, “they know about Tin Man.”

Ok, Bill had to admit that he was read into that, it was in the policy brief given by the National Security Advisor. Bill also knew it was just a contingency so how did it matter? Bill suddenly became very concerned when he realized, “you didn’t order that into motion, did you?”

“No!” Frank was squirming in his chair and was, quite obviously, a man who was under considerable stress. He finally stood up and then let it out like a deflating balloon, “the situation is going from bad to worse over there. I felt that we needed to be ready, just in case.”

Bill huffed, leaned forward on his fists, and with his eyes closed hard, he asked, “what did you do Frank?”

Frank burst out with, “I told the Pentagon to be ready, that’s all! They’re supposed to just be making preliminary preparations. It’s nothing we can’t deny.”

Bill straightened up and exploded, “leave the denials for the cameras Frank! We’re not taking public opinion polls here. If the Russians or Chinese think for one goddamn minute that we’ll make that move, they’ll take their own actions. They might not be able to reach where we can but they can hit us in some places that will hurt. You‘re talking about starting a war in our own backyard! None of us can afford that right now!”

“I don’t know Bill,” Frank was now just rambling, “if what Mary thinks is true then the Russians, or somebody, must have caught wind of our increased military chatter. They told the Brits, that’s obvious.”

“Goddamn it,” Bill mumbled as he paced. He then stated harshly, “why is it the Defense Department has managed to fuck this whole thing up, from day one.”

Frank waived that off, “it’s not their fault.”

Bill stopped, looked at the President and told him, “you’re right, Frank, it’s yours. Unfortunately this is a screwball that can’t be unscrewed. Let’s put aside the other players here for a moment, what about the British? I’m guessing Prime Minister Thayer can’t be all too happy about this and, not to mention, if the British public finds out we’re going to have a real problem on our hands. This isn’t World War Two, they aren’t so receptive to having our bases there anymore. They’re damn sure not all that happy about all the foreign troops at Coven Hill. Would you be if it was on our soil?”

That was a question that did not even need an answer. The simple reality of it was that the US had the firepower to stop something like what had happened at Coven Hill, and the economic power to make it stick. If it had been the Victorian era the British may have done exactly that but, these were different times.

Bill vocalized this as well, “you know Britain is no longer the pleasant little tourist attraction we all used to know and love. Right now, it is sitting on the single most important crossroads in the world, in two worlds even. If this situation isn’t handled right then in a couple of more years it’s going to make Israel and Palestine look like a hippy peace out.”
The President sat back down and his eyes were pointed in the same direction as he just kept saying, “I know Bill, I know!”

Bill kept up anyway, “and while we’re at it, something you need to consider Frank, is that Israel is just the guy who washes our dirty laundry, Britain is the single largest foreign investor in our country. If that place turns into a war zone then their economy goes to shit, ours follows, and not long after the rest of the planet collapses. After that, we’ll be the ones asking the elves for their help!”

Finally Frank looked up, “are we even sure that the guy that Mary talked too was, in fact, representing the British? He might be working for these Lancelot guys?”

Bill exploded, “you think that’s a good thing?”

Frank remained steady, “you’re the one wanting to talk to them.”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed but then qualified it, “about opening up a dialogue with the Fey’s. I’m not advocating giving those guys a loaded gun when we don’t even know if they want to mug us or not.”

“I was just kind of thinking,” at least Frank seemed to be doing that again. Bill had always noted that the guy had a way of letting people vent until it was to his advantage and, now, Bill wondered if that was not what had just happened. Frank seemed to prove this by saying, “that maybe we need to find out who knows and who doesn’t. Is it Thayer or King Arthur? We need to be sure and, right now, we can’t be much of that when it comes to anything with the British Government. From what Mary has been sending me, their whole government could be compromised.”

Bill calmed down but, he was still angry. He acted reasonable when he asked, “so, is that what this is really all about? You’re trying to force a situation that makes the Brits have to take sides?”

Frank was business like as he replied, “the thought had crossed my mind.” Then the President asked, “you think we don’t need to know?”

“Oh we need to know,” Bill agreed but, then he added, “and it’s incredibly fucking dangerous too.”

“Bill,” the President stood up, “this whole situation, ever since the first guy with pointed ears stood up in front of the UN, is incredibly dangerous. You and I happen to know exactly how much. That’s why, you need to go down to the situation room, right now, and give Thayer a call.”

The natural question that occurred to Bill was, “why me? He’s a head of state and you might need to be the guy on the other end of the line.” Then it occurred to Bill, “oh, so that’s why you didn’t tell me the details of your little Tin Man ploy?”

“Bill,” Frank replied, “you’re about to be a head of state. You’re not a lame duck and I am. Right now, you’re also not in a position to give that man anything and, I don’t have a word for him. That makes you the perfect guy to talk to him.”

“If he’ll actually do it,” was all Bill said and quite glumly so. As he walked down to the White House Situation Room, Bill wondered what made him more angry. Was it the fact that Frank had just stared into the Looking Glass, stepping up to the line of a world war, or was it the fact that the guy could still play him like that. Frank might be stressed out right now but, he did not spend two terms in the Oval Office because he was stupid. It made bill wonder if he was as smart as he thought he was, after all, Bill had worked for Frank and not the other way around.

Bill walked into the little office that the President used for private calls. He pulled the shutters and sat down at the table there. Then he looked up at the clocks on the wall and noted what time it was in London. Then he wondered if he was really the clean up hitter coming up to bat or, just second string. Finally he picked up the phone and told the little air force girl, sitting in the next room, who he wanted to contact.

After a few minutes a voice finally picked up on the phone, and it was not who Bill had tried to contact. The man sounded pleasant enough as he answered by saying, “this is Mister Prescott, might I say congratulations on your recent election victory, mister Devon.”

Prescott was their foreign secretary, the guy who was Bill’s counterpart in the Thayer Cabinet. Bill knew this line connected him directly to Ten Downing Street, the Prime Ministers residence, so he had to figure that Thayer was probably listening. Prescott would never admit that though, so, Bill let it ride.

Instead, Bill pleasantly replied, “thank you Mister Prescott, I look forward to what is, no doubt, our many future dealings and good relations with your country. I won’t waste your time with much small talk though, Scott, what I am calling about is a mutual problem that we both have. We need to have a unified front when it comes to dealing with this anarchy that is brewing over in Feyland.”

Prescott was quick to reply and gave no indications of where he stood on the matter, “and is the United States considering that we take some diplomatic action, or, are you suggesting something else?”

“Whatever works here Mister Prescott,” Bill replied. “The whatever else part is not considered optimal here.”
“Really?” Scot Prescott acted surprised even if Bill figured the guy was not, “I would have thought that with your military forces in jeopardy, you would have been more inclined to take this route with NATO.”

“We’re still considering our options here,” Bill told the man. “Everything is on the table right now.”

It was quite obvious that Prescott took that as a challenge, “I would hope not everything, Mister Devon. The United Nations might have jurisdiction at Coven Hill but, all else is still under our domain. I do hope you take that into consideration when you and the President review your policy options.”

There was something else that Bill noticed about the conversation he was having. Scott might act prim and proper in public but, in private, he was a personable guy. He an Bill had spent much time, over the past eight years, getting to know each other and their levels of conversation were usually more informal. That was not how Scott was acting now. That was why Bill would not be surprised if Scott was sitting in their cabinet room, at this very instant, with more than just Prime Minister Thayer listening in. Bill also had to wonder how many of those men around that table, at Ten Downing, were trusted by Scott. Then again, Bill had to wonder if Scott wasn’t working for another team too.

“We’ll talk again Scott,” Bill hung up.

In London, Prescott pushed the button on the conference table and disconnected the call. He looked to Andrew Thayer and said, “they got our message.”

Thayer stood up and walked to the window. With his hands in his pockets, his tie loosened, and his jacket off, the Prime Minister rubbed at his chin and thought about it. Then he replied, “yes, that call came in faster than even I thought it would.” Then Andrew turned and paced around his chair, “the only problem is, did they understand it?”

Scott huffed, “who can tell? From Spivey’s report, and from our little conversation here, I think it’s clear that the Americans have become aware of our little problem.”

Andrew waived it off, “Yes but, I think it’s clear they really don’t understand it. If they did then this Tin Man thing would have never happened.”

Scott was unconvinced, “perhaps not.” He then looked around the room and noted how empty it was, “do we understand it Andrew? If this situation was not so dire, there would be one or two other people here and you know that. If the elves had not showed up then this situation could have gone on even longer without us becoming aware.”

The Prime Minister did not respond to that so Scott added, “involving the Americans could cause this situation to spiral out of control, you do realize that? Instead of helping us it could be exactly what sinks us.”

“What choice do we have,” Andrew snapped at his Foreign Secretary. “We can’t even trust our own damn people.”

Scott quietly added, “we are getting by, so far. We are certainly in better shape than we were a few months ago.”

“We think we are,” Andrew snapped again. “The problem is we don’t know. If we fail then you know, as well as I, that the Americans are coming. We might as well make sure it’s on our terms, don’t you think?”

“What I think sir,” Scott stated far less emotionally, “is that if any of these details, concerning Tin Man, were to get out then the opposition is going to have their election and you and I, are going to be having these discussions on a park bench somewhere. How would that help us?”

“We’d just have to move earlier,” was all Andrew could say, “and besides that, no one is going to leak this. How will it get out?”

Scott was not so sure, “THEY would do it and, right now, we know for a fact that others are aware of this situation. Just look at how it came to our attention. When more than one person knows something…”

“I know!” Andrew huffed and began grinding his teeth. Finally he decided, “tell Spivey we’re moving up the time table.” Thayer deflated as he said, “for now, it’s all we can do.”