The Gang of Four

‘I’m still not happy with the nose.., hello?’

  ‘Prime Minister, Sir Neville Stonehatch is waiting.’

  ‘Send him through, oh, and let him keep his phone this time.’ The PM returned his attention to the developing facial composite. It was getting there, but…

  Sir Neville entered the PM’s office carrying another manila folder and a smart phone.

  ‘Thank you, Prime Minister,’ he said, brandishing the phone. He glanced at the photo-fit: ‘Is this a good likeness, sir?’

  ‘Sort of, I think.’ The PM noticed Sir Neville’s folder. ‘Okay, officer, why don’t you take a break. They may serve you coffee if you smile nicely.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The Special Branch officer collected up his equipment and departed the office as Sir Neville took his seat opposite the Prime Minister.

  ‘Shoot,’ said the PM.

  Sir Neville first briefed the Prime Minister on the latest analyses from Porton Down: ‘Initial studies of the organic material recovered from the annex suggest an exclusively terrestrial origin, with DNA from numerous species identified.’

  ‘Numerous species!?’

  ‘Yes, sir, including, remarkably – elephant!’

  ‘What!?’

  ‘I don’t have an explanation for this, sir.’

  ‘I bet you don’t..! but nothing “ET”, you say?’

  ‘No, sir. Nothing positively identified as non-terrestrial tissue.’

  The PM shook his head: ‘How the hell did an elephant get in there!?’

  ‘I reiterate, sir–’

  ‘Yes, yes!!’ The PM rubbed his eyes vigorously: ‘We don’t seem to be making forward progress with any of this, do we?’

  ‘Ah,’ Sir Neville reached for his phone and studied it for a few seconds: ‘You should take a look at this, sir.’

  Sir Neville placed the phone so that both men could observe the screen.

  ‘What am I looking at, Sir Neville?’

  ‘We pulled this from an ESA satellite. It is a time-lapse sequence updated once every thirty seconds. As you can see, nothing untoward on the visible channel, also nothing on the infra red and radar channels… but look at this!’

  The PM and his security chief watched the ultraviolet satellite channel, clearly showing something circular and white appearing first over northern Germany, before slowing rapidly as it progressed westwards. As the circle moved over the developing thunderstorm covering London, it flared, and then vanished.

  ‘It’s a spaceship, and a giant one!’

  ‘A USO, sir – Unidentified Space Object.’

  ‘Whatever, it’s bigger than London!’

  ‘The apparent size is perhaps due to its proximity to the satellite, but yes, it does appear to have been rather large, sir.’

  The Prime minister laughed at his security chief’s apparent need for pointless understatement. Was it a comfort blanket? He returned his attention to the small phone screen.

  ‘Can you transfer these images to my desktop?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  After a moment: ‘Okay, let me see the visible channel again.’

  The visible sequence repeated on a continuous loop. The PM and his security chief both scrutinized the imagery closely, looking for any signs of the spaceship before it exploded. There was absolutely nothing.

  ‘This thing was cloaked,’ remarked the PM.

  ‘Indeed, sir. Nothing on visible or longer wavelengths but at UV, we find it. It’s not resolved very well, and would be dismissed as a data ghost were it not for its appearance on several frames.’

  The Prime Minister turned to his security chief: ‘I presume the European Space Agency will have seen this... is this material available to the public!?’

  ‘No, sir. We took this from a restricted archive, which we’ve since deleted. It’s likely they – ESA – missed it.’

  ‘I hope so, the shit will hit the fan if this gets out. Can anyone trace our interventions here?’

  ‘No, sir... almost certainly not.’

  The PM shuddered.

  Both men continued to view the satellite imagery, switching from channel to channel as they looked for clues. The PM finally gave up, exasperated.

  ‘What else have you got for me?’ he asked his security chief.

  Sir Neville looked pained: ‘The fatalities remain unexplained, and very puzzling.’

  ‘Oh, how so?’

  ‘There have now been over two hundred such deaths reported across London. All with the same distinctive characteristics of the Whitehall episode: massive chromosomal damage, multiple organ failure and haemorrhaging. And all occurring at precisely the same time. And there are even reports of this abroad.’

  ‘Really!? Where abroad?’

  ‘New York, Washington, Moscow and several other locations, mainly big cities.’

  ‘That doesn’t add up! There have been no other reported meteorite strikes, have there?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge, Prime Minister.’

  The PM fell silent for a moment. Once again he recalled his last moments at the annex: ‘Do we have anything on aliens? Do we keep an X-file?’ To his surprise Sir Neville removed something from his folder: a picture of an alien: small, grey, and obviously an artist’s impression, and obviously not what he had seen yesterday in Whitehall.

  ‘No, that’s not right,’ The PM said, absentmindedly.

  ‘Not right, sir?’

  The PM realized his slip. Should he now confide in Sir Neville?

  ‘I, err, I believe I might have glanced some extraterrestrial entities at the FO annex.’

  Sir Neville looked shocked.

  ‘Oh come on, Sir Neville! Is it not now blindingly obvious that some form of extraterrestrial attack occurred yesterday?’

  Sir Neville looked as though he were about to lose his composure. He shuffled his papers but did not reply for a long time. ‘Can you describe what you saw, Prime Minister?’ he finally managed.

  The PM reluctantly gave a description of the aliens. Sir Neville looked flabbergasted.

  ‘I know what I saw,’ the PM affirmed.

  Sir Neville sighed and leaned over to view the facial composite on the PM’s desk just as his phone began to ring. Before answering it he addressed the Prime Minister: ‘Maybe Porton Down can throw up something new for us but, as far as I see it, our investigation hinges on tracking down this individual... Yes, what is it?’

  As Sir Neville took his call the PM studied the police image with a frown. It wasn’t yet a true representation… and he wasn’t sure why.

  Sir Neville put his phone away and raised both eyebrows at the Prime Minister.

  ‘Something?’

  ‘A development on the fatalities, sir – a survivor! One Alan Dosogne of Global Finance Sponsorship Ltd. According to a statement he has just given, he succumbed at the same time as two others in his organization both of whom subsequently died. He was expected to follow, but then promptly vanished. Now he’s just reappeared at work, and is apparently well.’

  The PM looked hard at his security chief. ‘Pull him in. You’d better do it now!’

  ‘Yes, Prime Minister.’

  The PM pressed a button on his desk. ‘Send in the police inspector, please.’

  The cop re-entered the PM’s office just as Sir Neville departed.

  ***