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  The ambassador’s eyes widened and the young man beside him became more attentive. The Kremlin would be pleased with this. This was a perfect opportunity to embarrass the American government. The Americans claimed that their country was the epitome of democracy, freedom and justice, yet a prominent American citizen felt safer in a Russian Embassy than in an American police station. Tensions between the Kremlin and Washington had ebbed greatly over the past few years as the two superpowers joined hands in the fight against El Monstruo. But there was still enough rivalry to make the two superpowers take delight in embarrassment of the other.

  “And who is your companion?” Yuri Salenko asked.

  “This is my boyfriend George. He is the one who rescued me when a gunman tried to kill me.”

  “A gun man tried to kill you?” The ambassador sounded like a reporter who had just stumbled upon a sensational story. “When did that happen?”

  “Around quarter to four the day before yesterday when I was shopping.”

  “Please forgive me for badgering you with questions, Doctor Cummings. I want to get to the bottom of this matter. You are the head of GEMA, an important arm of the United Nations. Your work is crucial to the survival of the world. The Russian Federation is a member of the UN Security Council and it takes very seriously any attempt on the life of a UN official. Why do you think they want to kill you, Doctor Cummings?”

  “I think it’s because I’ve discovered something that someone wants to cover up?”

  “What did you discover?”

  Sara told the ambassador everything about the satellite images and about her extraterrestrial theory.

  The Russian ambassador and the young man sitting next to him thought Sara’s extraterrestrial theory was rubbish but they were glad to help her embarrass the US government. They didn’t doubt her allegation that someone tried to kill her but they both believed that the attempt on her life had made her paranoid. Sara was the UN’s top environmental officer. Why would the US government want to assassinate her? The ambassador believed that the person who shot at Sara was a common criminal who wanted to rob her or kidnap her.

  “Doctor Cummings, on behalf of the Russian Federation, I grant you asylum,” the Russian diplomat said solemnly.

  “Thank you, Your Excellence.”

  “You are very welcome, Doctor Cummings. You have to hold a press conference and tell the world why you are staying in the Russian Embassy otherwise the Americans will accuse us of abducting you.”

  Sara sighed with relief. Now she knew that the Russians were on her side. They wouldn’t have asked her to hold a press conference if they were involved in the plot to kill her. “Yes, I need to hold a press conference as soon as possible.”

  “Does the asylum cover your boyfriend?”

  “Yes. He rescued me and that puts him in danger.”

  The ambassador looked at George. “Your name is George if I remember correctly.”

  “Yes, Your Excellence.”

  “That makes two of us. My name, Yuri, is a Slavic form of the name George.” The ambassador turned to the young man beside him. “Kazimir, arrange a press conference for Doctor Cummings.”

  * * *

  “I don’t understand anything of this,” Nzue Nguema said.

  “Me neither,” Wong said.

  The two men were standing in Wong’s office, watching Sara’s press conference on TV.

  “I think she has broken down,” Wong said. “She believes it’s her personal responsibility to save the world and that burden is just too much for her. When she started talking about aliens and UFOs, I knew she was going over the edge.”

  “But she said someone shot at her,” Nzue said.

  Wong shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe someone wanted to kill her or maybe she blew the whole thing out of proportion.”

  “By the look of things, she won’t be coming back any time soon,” Nzue said. “And that makes you acting director.”

  “And that makes you my assistant.”

  “Yes. The UN summit is only a few days away. You have to prepare your speech, unless you want to use Sara’s speech.”

  “Make consultations with our staff and prepare me a draft of a nice little speech with no talk of UFOs, aliens and space satellites.”

  “Okay, sir. Your draft will be ready tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Sara said she’s worried her dog will suffocate. I’ve to go to her house and pick it.”

  “I don’t think that will be a wise idea, Nzue. She says someone tried to kill her and that makes her house a crime scene. I don’t think that the cops will want people to touch anything.”

  “Then I’ll have to talk to the cops.”

  “I’m sure they’ll rescue her dog.”

  The phone rang and Wong answered it.

  “Sir, we’ve some reporters at the gate. They want to speak to you. Should we turn them away?”

  “Let them through the gate but don’t let them inside the building,” Wong spoke into the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m coming down to talk to them.”

  “Who is it?” Nzue asked.

  “It’s some news-hunting reporters,” Wong replied. “Let’s go down and give them their story.”

  Wong picked his breathing machine from his desk and led Nzue out of the office. Nzue ran to his office and grabbed his breathing machine. He caught Wong just before he reached the lift. They got into the lift and descended to the ground floor. They found two reporters and their camera crews waiting for them outside the building.

  Nzue immediately put on his breathing machine but Wong kept his in his left hand. This was going to be his first time to make it in the news headlines and he wanted the whole world to see his face.

  “Are you Professor Wong?” asked one of the reporters, a light-skinned African American woman with nasal cannulas.

  “Yes.”

  “Professor Wong, I understand that you’re the Deputy Director of the Global Environmental Management Agency,” the woman said.

  “Yes,” Wong replied, savoring his first time in the limelight. ‘I’m the Deputy Director of GEMA.”

  Not to be outdone the other reporter, a middle-aged tall white man, said, “Can you tell us why your boss sought asylum in the Russian embassy?”

  “My boss, Doctor Sara Cummings, is a wonderful person,” Wong said, looking into the camera. “She is a hardworking person who is dedicated to her duty. Never a moment passes that she doesn’t think about saving the world from the El Monstruo disaster.” Wong felt breathless but he kept on clutching his breathing machine in his hand. He wanted the world to see his face for much longer. “Doctor Cummings is not only concerned about saving mankind from El Monstruo, but she’s equally concerned about saving the Earth’s flora and fauna.” The distance between the corners of his mouth increased in an affectation of a doting smile. “The ants, the lizards, the frogs and all those animals and plants that might seem useless to some of us, she wants to save them all. Wong, we have to save the world, she always tells me.”

  “Professor Wong, you are not answering my question,” the male reporter grunted.

  “Be patient. I’m coming to your question. Doctor Cummings believes that we at GEMA are letting down the world by failing to come up with solutions to the problems that a being caused by El Monstruo. As the head of the Global Environmental Management Agency, Doctor Cummings feels personally responsible for our failure to end the disaster.” Unable to hold out any longer, Wong finally put on his breathing machine, regretting his decision not to invite the reporters inside the building, where he could have finished the whole interview with his face uncovered. “Doctor Cummings believes she has let down all the people, the animals and the plants of the world. She never stops trying to come up with new theories about El Monstruo. She’s under a lot of pressure and over the past few weeks, I could tell that she was reaching the breaking point. When she began to come up with theories about aliens stealing oxygen from Earth’s atmosphere, I
knew she was close to the edge. I hoped against hope that she’d recover but sadly it appears like she didn’t.”

  “Are you saying that Doctor Cummings is suffering from a nervous breakdown?” the lady reporter asked.

  “Nervous breakdown is a strong word,” he said. “But I have no doubt that the pressure has finally gotten to her.”

  “Are you telling us that all this talk about something coming to our planet to steal our oxygen is just drivel from a woman who has gone nuts?” the lady reporter asked.

  “That’s inappropriate language,” Wong reproached. “Doctor Cummings is in this state because of her strong desire to save the world. She told me that she hardly sleeps and has nightmares. I hope everyone understands what she’s going through.”

  “She said a gunman fired shots at her,” the male reporter said. “Do you think she imagined that as well?”

  Wong removed his breathing machine to let the cameras film his face one more time. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. She was under immense pressure and if some armed man tried to attack her then I can safely say that the attempt on her life is the reason that pushed her over the edge.” He clasped his hands together and tilted his head. “I know that there are some people in this country who feel that Doctor Cummings betrayed them by seeking refuge in a foreign embassy. Let me tell you something. To Doctor Cummings, the world doesn’t consist of individual countries. To her, the world is just one globe... one globe that she and all mankind must save from El Monstruo.”

  Three cars stopped at the gate and six men, five white and one black, flashed their badges at the gate and entered.

  “Show is over,” said the man leading the group, a silver-haired lean man with nasal cannulas. “We want to question the staff members of GEMA.”

  The reporters and their crew reluctantly left Wong. The Chinese winced, unhappy at the curtailment of his moment in the limelight.

  “My name is James Woodgate,” the silver-haired man introduced himself. “You’re Professor Wong, I presume.”

  “Yes,” Wong said, putting on his breathing machine. Now that the cameras had gone, there was no point suffocating himself.

  “I’m the UN Under-Secretary-General for Safety and Security. Have you ever heard my name before?”

  “No.”

  “I guessed you would say that. I’m the kind of guy whom people don’t get to know of when everything is okay. This is my colleague Didier Pires, the Assistant Secretary-General for Safety and Security. And the four gentlemen with us here are FBI agents. We want to ask you a few questions concerning your colleague, Doctor Cummings.”

  “I am at your service, gentlemen,” Wong said, wistfully looking at the departing reporters.

  “We are here to ask you questions concerning the alleged attempt on Doctor Cumming’s life. A day before yesterday there was a shooting incident involving one gunman. His intended targets, a man and a woman, escaped on a truck. Today Doctor Cummings held a press conference and identified herself as one of the gunman’s intended targets. Can you think of a reason why anyone would want to kill Doctor Cummings?”

  “No,” Wong said with a gentle shake of his head.

  “And you, sir?” James Woodgate asked Nzue. “Do you work here?”

  “Yes. I’m Doctor Cummings’ assistant.”

  “Did she in any way hint that her life was in danger?”

  “No,” Nzue said.

  “Did you see her press conference?” asked Didier Pires.

  “Yes,” chorused Nzue and Wong.

  “Do you believe anything she said?”

  “I don’t believe the part about aliens or beings from outer space,” Wong said.

  “And you?” Didier Pires asked Nzue.

  “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “We would like to get in Doctor Cummings’ office,” James Woodgate said.

  “Let me show you the way,” Wong offered.

  Wong led them to a lift. When the lift reached the seventh floor, they purposefully strode out like a gang going to a fight, and went straight to Sara’s office.

  James Woodgate had been cleared to enter Sara’s office, so the door opened when its scanners finished scanning his eyes. They entered the room and James Woodgate and Didier Pires checked everything whilst Wong, Nzue and the four stone-faced FBI agents watched.

  The FBI agents were used to leading investigations and they didn’t like playing second fiddle to foreigners. James Woodgate was a former Deputy Commissioner for National Security with the Australian Federal Police, and Didier Pires was a former commissioner of the French police. This was a UN building and Sara was a UN official, hence the investigation fell under the jurisdiction of the UN Department of Safety and Security (UNDSS).

  “Professor Wong, here is my card,” James Woodgate said when he and his assistant had finished going through Sara’s computer. “Contact me if you come across anything that you think might help us in this case.”

  Wong put the card in his pocket. “I’ll contact you right away if I find anything notable.”

  “Gentlemen, aren’t you scared the people who want to harm Doctor Cummings might harm you?” Woodgate asked.

  “It’s scary,” Wong said. “If the attempt on Doctor Cummings is connected to her work as GEMA Director, we should be concerned. We’re her colleagues and that might make her pursuers think that we pose a threat to them.”

  “Until this is over, I want Doctor Cummings’ colleagues to be under twenty-four hour police protection,” Woodgate told Byron Melony, the leading FBI agent. “Can you arrange that?”

  Melony winced. Foreigners were meddling in the law enforcement of the United States as if the country was a banana republic. This Aussie behaved as if he was the Director of the FBI, and to add insult to injury, the key witness was holed up in a foreign embassy that was out of bounce for the FBI. “Yes, sir,” Melony croaked. “I think I can arrange that.”

  “I’m turning the show over to you guys,” James Woodgate told the FBI agents.

  Fuck you, Melony screamed mentally but vocally he said, “Thank you, sir.” He turned to his colleagues. “Guys, check everything in this room while I ask Doctor Cumming’s colleagues a few questions.”

  The other three agents repeated the process that had been done by the officials from the UN Department of Safety and Security, while Melony interrogated Wong and Nzue.

  “In your own assessment, is Doctor Cummings the kind of woman to make up such a story?” Melony asked, gazing at Wong.

  “She’s not that type, I would say, but she’s been under immense pressure of late and I think she cracked.”

  “What do you think, sir?” he asked Nzue.

  “Sara is one of the most logical people I know,” Nzue said. “I don’t think she is the kind of woman to make up such a story, but as Wong said, she was putting herself under immense pressure.”

  “Did she have a feud with anyone here?”

  “Nothing that I know of,” Nzue said.

  “Doctor Cummings is a wonderful person,” Wong said. “Everyone here likes her.”

  “But it appears that someone hate her enough to want to kill her,” Melony said, watching Wong and Nzue.

  “There isn’t anything of much interest here, sir,” the black FBI agent said when he and his colleagues had finished sifting the office for clues.

  Melony gave Wong and Nzue his card. “You can get in touch with me any time. I guess it’s time for us to go to Doctor Cumming’s home.”

  “We won’t be going with you to her home,” Woodgate said. “Pires and I are going to the Russian embassy. The Secretary-General talked to the Russians and they agreed to let us talk to Doctor Cummings.”

  “I want to talk to her,” Melony said.

  “The Russians only gave permission for the UNDSS to talk to Doctor Cummings. If you want to get into the embassy, you should ask your government to talk to the Russians.”

  “You will let us know if you get anything from her, right?” Melony asked.


  “We’ll do that. Let us know if you find anything at her home.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you going to Sara’s home right now?” Nzue asked.

  “Yes,” replied Melony.

  “I would like to go with you.”

  “To do what?”

  “I want to take her dog. I hope it hasn’t suffocated by now.”

  * * *

  “That woman escaped and she is now holed up in the Russian embassy,” Sam Cruz said, his eyes glowing with rage. “Tyler, I gave you a mission to take out an unsuspecting woman and you failed.”

  Tyler Gibbs remained silent, bowing his head to avoid Cruz’s irate eyes.

  Cruz lifted his glass of whiskey and took a tiny sip. You let me down, Tyler,” he yammered. ‘I can’t imagine how you could possibly bungle such an easy assignment. This could jeopardize the whole project.”

  “I entrusted the job to our usual hit man,” Gibbs said, holding his glass with both hands. “I don’t know why he failed this time.”

  “What’s his excuse?” Cruz asked.

  “He says that Cummings got unexpected help. He thought she was alone and the man we now know to be Cummings boyfriend emerged from the supermarket and intervened.”

  “Was Cummings’ boyfriend armed?”

  “No.”

  “Then that’s not a good excuse.”

  The two were sitting in a large study at Cruz’s farm.

  “Sam, are we going to continue with the milking?” Gibbs asked.

  “Yes.” Cruz replied. “I sent word ordering the space force to stop using the milking location that was discovered by Cummings. Thanks to your bungling, many eyes will be looking at space satellite images.”

  “I don’t think anyone will take her seriously.” Gibbs crossed his legs. “People don’t believe aliens exist. Kids might believe her but world leaders and people who matter won’t believe in her story about aliens. If they believed in aliens, they would have created a space force long ago.”

  “People might not buy her alien story but they might soon start looking outside the Earth for answers,” Cruz said.

  “They still religiously cling to Hitchcook’s volcano theory.”