The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 12

I do not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.

Patrick woke up, and it was as if he had never slept. His eyes were heavy, and he felt drained. It was all the stress. He felt nauseous just thinking of the day ahead of him. He glanced at the clock; it displayed 5:54 AM. Despite the hour, he knew he was not going to get back to sleep. Putting on a pot of coffee, he tried to compose himself.

He was meeting Dan at eight, and the speech from the Prime Minister was scheduled for 10 AM. He took an extra long shower that morning. Patrick was meticulous in his hygiene, perhaps the extra time he spent showering helped distract from the stress, from the roller coaster that had become his life.

7:30 AM rolled around faster than Patrick expected, and he had to hurry to make it on time. He was meeting Dan at the same café as yesterday, and they would head further down the pier to get a proper spot near the Prime Minister's speech venue. He drove like a bat out of hell, and he made it by 8:02. Dan was waiting by his car, still running to keep it warm and ready to go.

"Morning Patrick, how're you doing mate?" Dan said, as he handed Patrick a fresh coffee.

"I'm doing just ace Dan, how are you?" Patrick replied, graciously accepting the coffee. It was a cold morning.

"Good, and primed to go. Let's get a move on."

They arrived outside an apartment building, and Dan hurried them inside, grabbing what Patrick assumed to be a rifle container out of his trunk. They went up the stairs in a silence that spoke volumes. They just wanted to finish and be out of there.

Dan showed Patrick into a bare room, with walls aged and caked with dust. Sheets covered all the furniture; it looked like it had not seen life in years. Dan hastily began unpacking the high-caliber rifle as Patrick looked in awe.

"How does this work then, Dan? That gun looks awfully real."

"Well Patrick, it fires sound-enhanced blanks. The gunshot will be unmistakable for the Prime Minister and those around him." Dan didn't look at Patrick as he spoke, absorbed in his task.

"Right, and then the prime minister bites into the blood capsule in his tooth and falls over? People are going to usher him out?" Patrick asked, still not convinced.

"Yes, exactly. In and out before the bomb goes off. It'll be a simple job." Dan said, seemingly quite sure.

The rifle was finally assembled, and Dan mounted it on the window, checking the bearings through the scope. Patrick knew a little about rifles and wind speed. It was all rather fascinating and surreal to him, and for a moment he found solace in the focus of the task at hand. There were trumpets then, as the Prime Minister's escort came into view - police, motorcycles, armed guards, it was really quite a procession.

The Prime Minister got out of his Bentley then. Approaching the podium, the sound of the audience was a deafening roar. He was a popular but very moral leader, and Patrick supposed that was why the bad guys wanted him dead.

Dan pulled Patrick from his reverie.

"Alright Patrick, get in place behind that window so they can't see you, and use this scope to keep me updated on the wind speed at all time."

The Prime Minister began his discourse, and it was smooth. Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but a quick hand from Dan silenced him. Dan counted down his fingers three, two, one. He fired. The world stood still at that point, and for a second, Patrick could only smell gun powder, and hear the resonating sound of the barrel.

Patrick realized the world outside would be bedlam. He looked through the scope at the Prime Minister who lay "bleeding" on the ground at the podium. The audience was fleeing, guards were rushing in. It was madness. Patrick, upon closer inspection saw there was too much blood, and it wasn't coming from the mouth. It had been a live round. Something was terribly wrong. He turned to talk to Dan, and found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"Listen Patrick, if you want to live, do exactly as I say." Patrick heard Dan from miles away. He knew he could not listen, he had to stop Dan, had to stop the murderous maniac who he had thought was his mate. He stood up, slowly, unsteadily. He heard the words "why" escape his lips, but the voice was not his own. Patrick managed to knock the pistol away as Dan rushed him. He hit Dan in the temple, drawing blood, and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. Dan was the superior fighter though, and had shaken Patrick off in a manner of seconds. It was all a surreal blur to Patrick, and his fight instinct was rapidly becoming a flight instinct. Rushing to the door, he found himself flying down the hallway, when he heard a gunshot. He didn't feel pain at first, only a throbbing heat, a lack of strength, as his left leg collapsed beneath him. The stairs, once his target, became his worst enemy as he tumbled downwards. Breathing heavily, struggling to focus, he began to crawl away. He heard Dan's slow confident foot falls approaching behind him He knew that he had lost.

"One thing you must learn is what's good is not always good, and what's right is not always right. I'm sorry it had to come to this, you are, and will always be a good man in my memory."

He did not hear the bang this time, nor did he feel the warmth. For Patrick, there was only silence, and then darkness.

Stay tuned next week for the finale of The Spy Who Called Bingo.

Read previous episodes of The Spy Who Called Bingo:
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 1
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 2
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 3
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 4
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 5
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 6
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 7
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 8
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 9
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 10
The Spy Who Called Bingo: Part 11