Helicopters whirred overhead, their search lights running up and down the built-up streets and the dark park. Clouds chased past the moon. On the streets, hundreds of police officers swarmed in high viz jackets. The shape of a sniper on a nearby rooftop briefly caught the search light.
A vast edifice reared up, its baroque towers lit up in a rotating series of colours: blue, red, purple, green. Bagpipes filled the air, the only thing to get through the ring of steel. Vans with dark-tinted glass glided to the front of the grand steps leading up to its doors, spitting out groups of dignitaries who scurried upwards, followed by shouts of 'Extinction' from protestors gathered behind temporary barricades.
Out of one car, a small, unassuming figure stepped, dressed in a pale yellow jacket, black trousers and sensible shoes. She climbed the steps, turning to look at the protestors before entering the building. The sharply-suited man who had opened the door of her van accompanied her up the steps, his dark-brown eyes wary, his muscled body ready for action.
The yellow-jacketed woman smiled at her bodyguard as she reached the entrance doors. 'Danke, Schörle.'
YOU ARE READING
The COP26 Kabuff: A Beatrice Deft Short
Short StoryThe world of international book fairs has ground to a halt for over a year and a half. But when Beatrice Deft, International Publishing Consultant, receives a summons to Scotland to attend an even bigger and - some might argue - even more urgent eve...
