Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

at Oxford for a semester when he met Knobby. The two became squash opponents at first and then fast friends. Jacques and Claire were such loving parents, more than any child could ask for. Knobby had made the perfect choice.
    Knobby’s voice caught as he explained the truth about her biological parents’ death. “Your parents … their car accident was planned.”
    “What do you mean planned?”
    “It was planned to look like an accident, but it was a carefully orchestrated event.”
    Whenever she visited London, Sydney had traveled to the spot along the River Thames where her parents’ car plunged into the water and they drowned. But now, she envisioned a faceless killer stalking them, waiting to strike.
    “You mean they were murdered?”
    “Yes,” Knobby answered.
    How could you lie to me? Sydney thought as she stared at him. Her affection for her godfather, along with the trust of her fellow man, immediately began to erode away. But she forced herself to hear the rest of the story. “Who killed them?”
    Sydney listened intently as Knobby explained not only the who but the why. Now, she would use his same words to explain herself to Danny.
    “History is not accidental, Danny. Events are not part of some chaos theory in which God or luck determines the outcome. There are powerful people behind the scenes who have conspired to manage the events of history. They truly rule the world. They are part of a secret faction that runs our lives. Since this faction was created, they have been determined to extinguish freedom and democracy once and for all.” Sydney added her own words to Knobby’s dire revelation. “The lawsuit is the signal, Danny. They are nearing the point when they will begin their undisputed reign over the entire planet.”
    Danny chuckled. “If I was anywhere else but here, I’d ask you if we were on Candid Camera . Come on, Sydney. A secret group runs the world? Something like that could never happen.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I’m not James Bond, and this isn’t a movie.”
    Sydney expected Danny’s reaction. She had reacted the same way, as she sat listening to Knobby’s crazy words. But then Knobby continued with proof. Now Sydney would, too.
    “I know this is a lot to take, Danny. But it’s best if I start at the beginning.”
    Danny’s face was stained with doubt, but he nodded anyway. “Be my guest.”
    “In 1940, a pro-Marxist student group was formed at Oxford University. It was their view that the blossoming industrialized countries, which would no doubt become the leading nations of the world, should be taken over by Marxist regimes for the betterment of the entire planet.”
    Danny raised his finger. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I’m a little fuzzy on Marxism since my college days. I know it’s like communism but …”
    Sydney continued. “Marxism and communism are one and the same, and yet they are completely different. The communism that most Americans think of, the one associated with the old Soviet Union, isn’t true communism. It was a bastardized version of it based on Joseph Stalin’s tyrannical regime. True communism, the type that Karl Marx promoted, creates a classless society of abundance in which all people enjoy equal social and economic status. However, Marx believed, as did the Oxford students, that true communism would only work in highly developed countries like Germany, Britain, and the United States. In Russia, which was largely agrarian with an autocratic political system at the time, communism was doomed from the start.”
    “Thank you for clearing that up, Professor Dumas.”
    Sydney ignored his snide comment and continued. “At one of this group’s meetings, they hosted a guest speaker who regaled them with tales of a secret society that concocted a Marxist plot to take over the world. He explained how he was a member of this group and further explained how they were building in both numbers and power by operating as political moderates instead of the usual left-wing extremists. He concluded his speech by declaring that he had been chosen to head their operations in Britain, and he further boasted that he would one day become prime minister.”
    Sydney paused. Even though Danny was staring at her, she wanted to make sure he was listening. Because this was only the very tip of an enormous iceberg.
    “So did he?” Danny asked.
    “His name was Harold Wilson. He was the prime minister of the United Kingdom from 1964 to 1970 and