line in order of seniority, members of Cabinet
first.
Cameramen
focused their cameras on the stairway as President Brandon Ward and his wife
came out, followed by the president’s bodyguard, Assistant Police Commissioner Evans,
six CIB agents, the president’s secretary, Lopez, and Foreign Minister Henderson.
The
crowd of National Party supporters broke into the song Viva Ward the Father
and Savior of the Nation. If God was listening, He must have felt envious
at the praise that His creatures were giving a fellow creature. CIB agents
stood between the president and the National Party supporters. Some of the
women escaped through the CIB cordon and laid pieces of cloth in the
president’s path as if he was Jesus on his triumphant entry into Jerusalem.
Smiling,
Brandon Ward greeted the vice president and chatted with him for a minute
before he greeted his young brother and chatted with him for over two minutes.
Then he greeted the ministers of Defense, State Security, Interior and Information
before he greeted the lesser ranking ministers.
After
greeting each minister, the supreme leader asked, “Patriot, is there anything
of interest that you want to tell me?” None of the ministers had anything to
tell the president, meaning everything had gone smoothly during his absence. Brandon
Ward then greeted the security chiefs and asked them the same question. Only
the CIB director-general had something to tell the president.
“I
don’t know if you will consider this interesting, Your Excellence.”
Director-general Sullivan cleared his throat. “A day before you left, on the
second half of the first lady’s birthday, we arrested a rather interesting
rebel.”
“Tell
me more, director-general,” Brandon Ward said, suddenly erect, his jetlag
forgotten and the smile gone from his face. If there was one word President Brandon
Ward hated, it was the word rebel.
“We
arrested a member of the Police Special Branch. NASP caught her ridiculing you.
A―a...” he wanted to say a day before but corrected himself in the
nick of time. “During the first half of the first lady’s birthday, she was in
the VIP lounge as one of the security personnel protecting you at the national
stadium, Your Excellence.”
“What!”
Brandon Ward exclaimed amid the ecstatic singing of National Party supporters.
“Commissioner Hunt, you must thoroughly vet the policemen you assign to protect
me.”
The
police commissioner said nothing, knowing that the supreme leader brooked no
reply when was angry.
“I
no longer feel safe,” Brandon Ward went on with his tirade. “Why do you admit
rebels in our police force? A rebel in the Police Special Branch! What is this
country coming to?”
The
director-general disliked the police commissioner and saw this as an
opportunity to discredit him. Before the president assigned him to the CIB, the
director-general had been a policeman and the police commissioner had unfairly
treated him. Now it was payback time. “The rebel won the President’s
Sharpshooter Competition in the women’s category,” the director-general added
mischievously.
“Jesus!”
Brandon Ward shouted. “A rebel sniper! Did you interrogate her,
director-general?”
“Yes,
Your Excellence.”
“Was
she working alone or she is part of a conspiracy?”
“No,
she was working alone.”
“Still...
an armed rebel sharpshooter in the VIP lounge near me. Commissioner Hunt, how
did the rebel sharpshooter end up in the VIP lounge?” President Ward frowned,
“If she wanted, she would have killed me with one pull of her trigger.
Commissioner, if you can’t vet the officers you assign to protect me, send them
to the CIB for vetting.”
“Should
we eliminate her, Your Excellence?” the CIB chief asked.
“Of
course! But wait until I say so. Patriot Christopher and I came up with an
interesting plan to eliminate the rebels in our prisons. I have to discuss the
logistics of the plan with Patriot Christopher before we can set it
first.
Cameramen
focused their cameras on the stairway as President Brandon Ward and his wife
came out, followed by the president’s bodyguard, Assistant Police Commissioner Evans,
six CIB agents, the president’s secretary, Lopez, and Foreign Minister Henderson.
The
crowd of National Party supporters broke into the song Viva Ward the Father
and Savior of the Nation. If God was listening, He must have felt envious
at the praise that His creatures were giving a fellow creature. CIB agents
stood between the president and the National Party supporters. Some of the
women escaped through the CIB cordon and laid pieces of cloth in the
president’s path as if he was Jesus on his triumphant entry into Jerusalem.
Smiling,
Brandon Ward greeted the vice president and chatted with him for a minute
before he greeted his young brother and chatted with him for over two minutes.
Then he greeted the ministers of Defense, State Security, Interior and Information
before he greeted the lesser ranking ministers.
After
greeting each minister, the supreme leader asked, “Patriot, is there anything
of interest that you want to tell me?” None of the ministers had anything to
tell the president, meaning everything had gone smoothly during his absence. Brandon
Ward then greeted the security chiefs and asked them the same question. Only
the CIB director-general had something to tell the president.
“I
don’t know if you will consider this interesting, Your Excellence.”
Director-general Sullivan cleared his throat. “A day before you left, on the
second half of the first lady’s birthday, we arrested a rather interesting
rebel.”
“Tell
me more, director-general,” Brandon Ward said, suddenly erect, his jetlag
forgotten and the smile gone from his face. If there was one word President Brandon
Ward hated, it was the word rebel.
“We
arrested a member of the Police Special Branch. NASP caught her ridiculing you.
A―a...” he wanted to say a day before but corrected himself in the
nick of time. “During the first half of the first lady’s birthday, she was in
the VIP lounge as one of the security personnel protecting you at the national
stadium, Your Excellence.”
“What!”
Brandon Ward exclaimed amid the ecstatic singing of National Party supporters.
“Commissioner Hunt, you must thoroughly vet the policemen you assign to protect
me.”
The
police commissioner said nothing, knowing that the supreme leader brooked no
reply when was angry.
“I
no longer feel safe,” Brandon Ward went on with his tirade. “Why do you admit
rebels in our police force? A rebel in the Police Special Branch! What is this
country coming to?”
The
director-general disliked the police commissioner and saw this as an
opportunity to discredit him. Before the president assigned him to the CIB, the
director-general had been a policeman and the police commissioner had unfairly
treated him. Now it was payback time. “The rebel won the President’s
Sharpshooter Competition in the women’s category,” the director-general added
mischievously.
“Jesus!”
Brandon Ward shouted. “A rebel sniper! Did you interrogate her,
director-general?”
“Yes,
Your Excellence.”
“Was
she working alone or she is part of a conspiracy?”
“No,
she was working alone.”
“Still...
an armed rebel sharpshooter in the VIP lounge near me. Commissioner Hunt, how
did the rebel sharpshooter end up in the VIP lounge?” President Ward frowned,
“If she wanted, she would have killed me with one pull of her trigger.
Commissioner, if you can’t vet the officers you assign to protect me, send them
to the CIB for vetting.”
“Should
we eliminate her, Your Excellence?” the CIB chief asked.
“Of
course! But wait until I say so. Patriot Christopher and I came up with an
interesting plan to eliminate the rebels in our prisons. I have to discuss the
logistics of the plan with Patriot Christopher before we can set it
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