An irregular, irreverent, post-modern account of the surreal, the ordinary, and the bizarre happenings on and around the Felia lavender farm in Crete

Monday, December 04, 2006


Little did Mr Lory know that he would soon be able to deliver his summons directly. Almost as soon as his rear end hit his own chair in his own office his phone rang: "Lory speaking". Silence - followed by 2 taps. Lory switched quickly to voice scramble. "OK - done". He pushed his chair back and the Aeron sailed majestically away from the tiny, curved, Coriam desk. "Lory speaking" he repeated.

"Gee" came a voice that he did not immediately recognise "I need a favour". HIs recall circuits were abuzz but all routes led nowhere " I'm sure you do but who are you? And where do you get off calling me Gee?" "It's Chas you muppet - you remember me, school, the force ... shit, I work for you."

"Chas you old rogue - I'm sorry - it's been a long time since we spoke and this bloody scrambler system doesn't exactly help. How the fuck did you get this number? NO, don't tell me I don't want to know after all. What sort of favour do you want as if I didn't know - it's the Tooting job isn't it? No wonder Power doesn't know how you do it. Connexions in high places helps and those in low places help too don't they?".

"I need access to some files - well some folders actually and yes connexions are useful ... Power? have you seen him lately - looks to me like he's about due a stroke and I don't mean the cuddly type either. Trouble is I'm not sure exactly what folders I need to see - I suppose open access is out of the question?"

"Chas, I don't have open access! In fact I don't think anyone does since the last balls up. You're going to have to fish for it. As for our Mr Power well his medical last month was touch and go and to be completely honest I wouldn't give a flying fuck if he pegged out tomorrow. Pompous old tart! By the by, do you know whether he's still shafting that fat mechanic of his? I ask only because he's really going to have to shaft him now - the little catamite has some very serious debt due to some very nasty Iranians who have some very nice establishments if you know what I mean. Just talk to me while I warm up the old computer." He coasted the Aeron back to the desk and opened the lid on a laptop that was recessed into the desktop - invisibly recessed - no cables in sight and no way to remove it . A flap on the desk let down a mite and Lory's thin fingers got to work.

"I don't think so Gee, I think that was all over a while back and yes I do know what you mean - the casino brothers right? He's a silly sod - I took a tenner off him only today so I don't imagine Darius and Cyrus had too much trouble - is he gonna have to go? No options? I guess not. You ready? OK try Bratva."


"Parent folder?"



"Yes - parent Bratva"


"Yes - parent Bratva"

"OK give me Bratva - what about Nokchallah? double ell."

"Hold on Chas - yes got it - parent Chechnya underscore mob. Where are you going with this Chas? And there seems to be a link across to Bratva -any more?"

"Konstantin Golikov?"

"Yes, got him - he's supposed to be dead or in hiding but it looks as though the FSB are pretty sure he's dead."

"Viktor Bout?"

"Yes - in Iraq? Or Liberia. Both of them are in Red or Dead"

"OK - I'll need 3 hours access tops - anytime you can. I'll wait."

"All right Chas - check - Bratva, Chechenya underscore mob, and Red or Dead - is that the lot? I'll get you two hours as of midnight tonight - use port 131 and the access will be stego protected - read only and only from your company machine - we use the serial number - and only from this line - OK?"

"Thanks Gee - I owe you. Do I need that thumb thing as well?"

"Of course you do - you know the drill and be sure to get off before the two hours expire."

"Yeah OK whatever. See you Friday?"

"Friday" he affirmed and then he put the phone down, removed the thumb print device and slid the laptop back into the desktop. He glanced around his office and congratulated himself quietly on his taste. Minimalist chic. The views were rubbish but then it was South London and South London held happy memories for him. Memories of Chas and Mary. Even memories of days on the force. "Well Mr Power, " he announced to the soundproofed walls, "I think you might have just got very lucky. The dog has seen the rabbit."


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