Incarna

13 - Episode 4 Conference Politics

George sat quietly as the remaining Five Eyes Commissioners, discussed possible directions of investigation. He was the now the Sixth Eye, not this Florian Berg. Damn he had a cousin by the name of Berg. Shut up George, he told himself and watched them all until they had signed off.

So the aussie and the kraut would review existing satellite data then recommend which new scans would be required. Pretty Maeve would organise transport for the investigation teams and the kiwi chick, mm she had been quiet this time, would coordinate the team preparation with the canuck and await Deitmann’s details. George nodded yes they were good and he must admit the kraut was efficient and stuck to the point.

He waited for the NSA indicator light to change to green from each of the windows before he turned off the video conference . His boys had to ensure all possible evidence of their presence was cleaned up before he broke the connections. Well someone had to spy on the spies and he was damn sure they would all be monitoring him. So he had to make sure he did a better job.

The windows closed and he was left looking at his official page. George pushed his glasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. He still hadn’t got used to the new prescription and it was giving him slight headaches. If they didn’t ease soon he would have the optometrist deported back to wherever he hadn’t come from and install someone who could look after him. He sat back in his chair and let the conversations play over in his mind, checking for anything he might have missed.

He brought up his oversight program and brought up windows for each of the, Five Eyes. Florian had already gained permission and was preparing to move one of the Eurosats into an orbit over that goddam forsaken bit of desert they were all fighting over. Didn’t they realise it didn’t matter any more! The Kurds now had an independent Kurdistan with gas and oil pipelines running through Turkey to Europe and Russia had finally been sidelined.

Of course Czar Putin couldn’t let that go by unpunished so he had made another land grab against Ukraine before the Europeans could intervene on behalf of the newly nominated member state. George shrugged at this latest round of the Great Game that had been part of European history now for two hundred years.

George watched the Eurosat track and tried to estimate its new position. Amazing piece of machinery that bit of german design. It was the size of a minibus and had been assembled in the new manufacturing facility of the International Space Station. All part of the construction of that new Kalpana Orbital City. Kalpana, huh, fuck’n waste of time and money he thought shaking his head. He was especially angry about the Kalpana contracts because his company had missed out any construction at all!

Anyway, best get some of the Deepwater teams together and then add the Five Eyes into them. He smiled, maybe even get Ploughwright to lead one of them. He chuckled, that would piss Deepwater right off! No, I’ll suggest he be overall team leader. What with all that local experience! That will further undermine Deepwater’s dominance, and should aggravate any stress triggers PW had. Perhaps even make him susceptible to one of his inside operatives attentions.

George smiled at the thought and then turned back to the screen and brought up Florian Bergs file. Now lets see how we are going to get you onto the Team, he thought and leant his head to the right to stretch out a developing tight spot as he read. All the obvious, a doctorate from Max Plancke Institute etc etc. He was no dumkopf, but then he wouldn’t have got this far if he had been.

George brought his left wrist up within range of his desktop and downloaded the dossiers on the Five Eyes team into his eTime. He liked this model with its titanium body and diamond glass face. A terabyte of storage with a pull out palm sized screen made of some super micro film stuff one of his companies had invented. It cost an average guys yearly salary but, that was their problem, not his.

He tidied his desk and packed his briefcase. He’d read up on everyone over the weekend out on the yacht. A couple of days letting the quiet lap of the sea against the polished wood of the hull calm his nerves would be ideal. Susan would feed him all her best delicacies and he could revel in her soft curves as much as he wanted out there. The secret service boys and girls were all very good to him these days, for some reason, and kept a respectful distance but also completely secure. Not even a minisub could get near him with the entire bay set with sea floor monitors and drones permanently circling a half mile off.

He was well cared for, well respected and very well paid even though he didn’t need a salary any more he still liked the look of those six figures. He walked out of the office the door sealing shut behind him and unable to reopen except for the use of four different and rotated biometric readings. Terrorists could cut off his relevant bits and try to use them but, well, some things are always secret!

He walked out through the main office and his security team fell in, in front and behind. Everyone moved aside in the corridors and all saying goodbye or good evening. He chatted to one of the guards at the front desk. He knew them all and they enjoyed being spoken with and he often learned more from them about the general mood of his world than from any of his briefings. He was at the top of his game and every one knew it. J Edgar Hoover was nothing compared to the power he wielded and George Deitmann knew it!