Tunnels 06 - Terminal

majormilitary commitment to bail you out. And that’s after all the financial support we’ve been forced to give Europe because its banking system was threatening to drag the US into one doozy of a depression.’
    ‘Sir, I …’ Parry began.
    The President held up his hand. ‘Just a minute, Commander, I need to bring another party into the conference for this. Bob, tap them in now, please.’
    The display on Chester’s far left went black for a second, and when it came back on there was a view of an oval table with a dozen or so people around it, many in uniform.
    ‘Hi, Dave,’ the President said, also looking to his far left. ‘We’ve got you on visual now. Did you catch all that?’ Obama turned back to the camera before he received a response from the new roomful of people. ‘Commander, I wanted your Prime Minister to hear our conversation. We don’t have time for Chinese whispers.’
    Parry was unfazed by the turn of events. ‘Good evening, sir,’ he said to the man in the middle of the scene, who wore an annoyed expression, before scanning the other faces on either side of him. ‘I see you’ve got the War Cabinet with you.’
    Chester’s mouth gaped open for a second time – as he’d stumbled through his story the British Prime Minister had been listening, and most likely watching him. He wondered who was going to pop up on the screens next.
    The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes with all the arrogance of a disgruntled headmaster. ‘Commander, I don’t appreciate you going over my head and speaking to the President direct. Why didn’t you use the normal channels and come to my office first?’
    Parry was unapologetic. ‘The normal channels? At a time like this? For two reasons. First, because I didn’t know who I could trust. I didn’t know who the Styx had got at. I believe you yourself had been Dark—’
    ‘We all had a session with the Purger ages ago,’ the Prime Minster cut him short, with a blasé flick of the head. ‘The Cabinet and all the staff at Number 10 have had a clean bill of health for some weeks now.’
    Parry appeared sceptical at this response. ‘Not just one Purger session, I trust? You and your colleagues in the Cabinet should be checked at regular intervals throughout the day.’
    ‘I don’t need you to advise me on my security measures,’ the Prime Minister said, raising his voice to let Parry know he didn’t like to be challenged. ‘And your second reason, Commander?’
    ‘Because we can’t fix this by ourselves. We need outside intervention from a nation that hasn’t been contaminated by the Styx.’ Parry stopped abruptly, his brow creased by a deepening frown. ‘Can I ask where you are right now? That room looks familiar.’
    ‘If it’s anything to do with you, I summoned everyone here to the inner sanctum at Westminster. I overruled the security bods because I wasn’t about to leave London and let these Styx fellows think they had us on the run.’
    Without any warning, Parry was out of his chair and shouting. ‘You blithering idiot! Didn’t you read the communiqué I submitted months ago?’
    ‘Commander, please,’ the President urged, trying to restore order.
    ‘Yes, calm down, dear chap,’ the Prime Minister said, clearly amused at Parry’s distress.
    ‘No, you listen to me, and this is vitally important. Get out of there now!’ Parry was speaking with such fervour, he was actually spitting. ‘Rather than heed my warning, you’ve gathered everyone together in the Houses of Parliament, where you’re sitting ducks. You’ve played right into the Styx’s hands. Chester and my son learnt that the Eternal City – the massive cavern under Westminster – has a weakness in its roof that the Limiters might choose to exploit at any moment. They might blow it!’
    ‘It’s true,’ Chester said, but he was drowned out by the Prime Minster who didn’t bother to hide his sneer.
    ‘Oh, sure, like they can do that!’ he bellowed. ‘We haven’t seen any solid evidence that this mythical lost city you talk of actually exists. I fear that you may have had a wee dram too many before beddy-byes, then had a wee dream about the whole thing.’ As he mimicked Parry’s Scottish accent, the Prime Minister was obviously delighted with the pun he’d just made; like a braying donkey he put his head back and unleashed a torrent of laughter, the whole table joining in with him.
    All of a sudden, the picture of the Prime Minister and his War Cabinet