Struggling to stand he watched the three members of the panel enter and make their way from the door at the side of the large room towards their respective seats. Instantly, the media lights flashed. He would have likened the trio to three wise men had one not been a woman, the scowl on her face unmoved from yesterday. Of the three she was the one he expected had made up her mind long before proceedings had started. With each sentence of the American application relayed in court he had noticed her nod in apparent agreement. The man seated on the left was not much better, barely succeeding in concealing his tacit agreement as the evidence unfolded. Matt’s sole hope rested on the chairman, a tall and sturdily built man who had asked searching questions of the US representative. But then again, maybe he had read too much into this. Perhaps this was just the grey-haired man’s way of wanting to appear impartial. Irrespective, his fate would soon be sealed unless he came up with a miracle of biblical proportions. He knew concentration was going to be important, vital if he was to have any chance at all. The trouble was the latest beating had knocked it out of him.
“Mr Durham, we are waiting.”
He’d lost focus already. Not so much an inauspicious start as a self inflicted wound.
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat for me please?”
The lead judge glanced impatiently up at the ceiling before deciding to consent.
“You are required to read through your statement,” said the man again.
Matt attempted to examine the documents placed in front of him. Sizeable words he might have been able to determine. This text was miniscule.
“Mr Durham, can you begin to read?”
He shut his eyes tightly in the hope this might help him to focus. The instant he reopened them he knew all was lost.
“Mr Durham?”
“No, I can’t,” he said in resignation.
The lead judge leaned both left and right to speak quietly to his colleagues in turn while Matt glanced at the American lawyer on the opposite table, leaning back smiling in triumph at his two immediate assistants.
“But I can show you,” said Matt
“You can show us?”
“Yes, if you will permit me, sir?”
“Objection,” said the squat American. “We have not been provided with visual evidence.”
“Please, sir,” requested Matt. “I am in an unusual place, in unusual times. This is unfamiliar territory for me and I am not trained in the way of these proceedings.”
“Very well,” said the lead judge after a brief consultation with the other judges.
“Objection,” complained his opponent. “This goes against all accepted procedure.”
The female judge leaned to her side and whispered into the chairman’s ear.
“We will permit the defendant to present his case.”
“I need access to the internet and the ability to transmit to the large screen, if that is possible, sir,” said Matt.
A glare from the lead judge sent the court staff scurrying to all directions. Matt took a deep breath. This was an opening, small it may be but a chance nonetheless.
“Objection,” insisted the red-faced American.
The squat man returned reluctantly to his seat the moment the lead judge released another glare. Matt saw the American whisper into the ear of a colleague and the assistant began to rise from her seat.
“Sit down please,” said the chairman.
“Objection,” pleaded Matt’s adversary.
“Overruled,” roared the chairman.
The laptop arrived. Matt stood and concentrated hard as he tapped in the IP address and then followed the path previously taken with the team. They hadn’t found the back door. Could it be possible? He tapped in the numbers, 10, 1, 13, 5, 20, 11, 9, 13, 2, 5, and finally 19, to spell out James Kimber’s name. Matt held his breath and prayed.
Access Denied read the screen.
They had closed the door. He typed 10, 22, 4, 4, 1, 10, 5, 20, 20, 15, 16, the letters of the alphabet spelling out Judd A Jessop.
Access denied, read the message.
A glance to his left and he saw the squat American smiling contentedly. If these doors were shut to him then it was likely the others would also be closed. The fifth user is the key kept repeating in his mind, the fifth user.
“Mr Durham,” said the lead judge. “Do you have anything to show to us?”
Think man, think, he kept telling himself. Marius Kronk. There were eleven letters to the name. He had to be the fifth user. Matt knew he couldn’t afford to get this wrong. Fingers hovered above the keyboard and he closed his eyes. It had to be Marius Kronk. He pressed thirteen for M, the number one for A and then eighteen for R. The fifth user, the fifth user is the key said his brain over and over again. He punched delete and erased the numbers on the screen. Concentrate, he kept telling himself. Get the name right, get the sequence right. He began again; 10, 15, 8, 14, 11, 5, 14, 14, 5, 4, and finally the number 25. His index finger pointed to the enter button. Are you sure asked his brain, are you really sure this is the right name? He pressed lightly.
Welcome Jack Keller, read the message.
“Sir, I must strongly protest …”
No time to lose. The word, the single word Eva-Maria had used? Think man, think. He located the search box and tapped at the keyboard the moment it arrived in his head, Declaration. A letter appeared on screen.
Mr President. We have discussed your proposal and are all agreed it is unacceptable. There is no disagreement between us on the assessment that the economic rise of the Red Dragon presents a problem which needs to be addressed. However, we disagree on the means to tackle the problem. It is one thing to enter into a private venture aimed at securing access to these essential deposits, it is quite another to do so under cover of our national flag. Individual risk is an accepted practice in the world of commerce but to operate this venture as a State-run enterprise risks much, much more.
Matt couldn’t believe what he was reading. Neither could the judges given their apparent fascination with the words up on screen. He read on.
Our great nation cannot be associated as the architects of a scheme to clear indigenous populations from their homelands for the purpose of commercial exploitation, and in this ever-decreasing global environment complete secrecy can never be totally assured. We already have Durham chasing our tails yet again. All it takes is for a crusader like him to break our cover and consequences will follow. The true legacy of your period in office will not be one of an administration who checked the rise of the Red Dragon but one which resulted in the isolation of our great nation from the international community. Derided by all, both friend and foe, this will plunge the world into a crisis from which it may not recover. You must step from this path or we must force you from it and if this entails we take measures to declare to the American people your intent and let them make judgement then so be it.
Matt skipped to the bottom of the page where he could see the names of the four signatories.
Charles E Jessop.
Judd A Jessop.
Elias Andrew Bruckmuller.
James Kimber.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “Jesus, Jesus Christ.”
The adrenalin rush gone, events started to overpower Matt as his mind spun out of control to a whirl of mixed emotions. He felt consciousness slipping away, the face of his American opponent appearing in front of his eyes as he began to sway from side to side.
“I’ve got you,” said the American, catching his fall.
Strong hands yanked at the press studs of his overalls to let air to his body and he heard the lawyer call out.
“Jesus, he’s been beaten to within an inch of his life. Get a doctor in here now!”
Partial sight returned and he witnessed the look of abject horror on the face of his opponent, a memory that would stay with Matt forever.
“Durham, we didn’t do this. Not our doing,” insisted the American. “Where the hell is the doctor?”
M
att remembered cameras flashing, reporters fighting with each other to try and get a better shot of the full extent of the blackened torso. Then he saw Gratia, and his mind went blank.
Chapter Forty Three
One More Word