United States Starship by Chris Nuttall

Author:Chris Nuttall
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-07-17T09:02:13+00:00

International Produce

Atlanta

20th April 2009 (Time Line A)

The American security agencies had attempted to cut off most of the supplies of illegal weaponry entering the cities, and they’d had some success, but the ever-increasing number of drug lords, criminals and people who wanted more weapons for self-defence created more conduits than could ever be closed. The International Produce Company, specialists in food from the Middle East, had no official contact with weapon suppliers, but a private arsenal had been hidden underneath the building.

Rakim studied the group, twenty-one men in all, and smiled slightly. They were a mixed group, some Arab, some Asian, some white. Dressed smartly in western clothes, they would not attract attention.

“You have the route planned?” He asked their leader, Sarfraz.

“Yes,” Sarfraz said. “We have a police scanner operating; if they change their route to one of the alternatives, we can change position quickly.”

“It is vital that we take her alive,” Rakim said. “Americans are sentimental about their women; if we hold her he will agree to all of our demands. Understand?”

“Yes,” Sarfraz said. “We’re armed with enough weapons to take on a platoon of American marines.”

Which was the same logic those who fought in Iraq used, Rakim thought, but did not say. If it gave them confidence, well and good. Unless they could make their way out of Atlanta, they would almost certainly be lost to the cause anyway. Who cares?

“Good,” he said finally. “I’ll watch the interview from here, and then meet you at the airport. Speed is of the essence.”

“Allah will be with us,” Sarfraz said confidently. “We’ll bring her to you.”

CNN Headquarters

Atlanta, USA

20th April 2009 (Time Line A)

The massive limousine drew up at the main entrance and Roberta stepped out, flinching slightly as the smell increased. The taint of fuel-burning engines could be smelt everywhere, even within the lobby or the limousine. She wished that she’d convinced Cozort to let the shuttle land directly within the city itself, but no, it had had to be the airport. The sooner we get these people using Power Cells, the better.

“Roberta, I presume,” a bubbly voice declared. A red-haired woman, still handsome at thirty-odd, ran over to her and gave her a hug. Roberta stepped back slightly as she squeezed, and the woman blinked.

“Golly, you people are really formal,” she said, to the delight of the crowded lobby. “I’m Eva Zapata – you may call me Eva – and I’m the Producer. Right this way, dear.”

Roberta almost backed out, there and then. Stubbornness drove her on; she had a reputation to uphold. There had never been any place like this during her timeline. “What do we do now?” She asked.

“What can I call you, dear?” Zapata asked cheerfully. “Now we go to make-up, and then we get ready for the live broadcast.”

“You may call me Mrs Cozort,” Roberta said firmly. Zapata shrugged and led her through a number of corridors until they reached a room marked ‘make-up’. Zapata tapped on the door, and then stepped inside.

“This is Cary,” she said, waving to a plump blonde woman with a friendly smile.

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