21.00. ‘Good
evening,’ says the newsreader, ‘and welcome to the nine o’clock news. In the
face of unprecedented reports of hundreds, possibly thousands dying from a
mysterious virus, the NHS is chaos and stories that this is linked to an
international group made up of some of the most powerful and influential people
in the world we have the following statement. All over the country people are
glued to their tv’s computers and tablets. The Minister begins his statement.
21.05. I feel
sick. He is still talking with manufactured sincerity. The words drip from his
lips and he shows no sign in either tone or body language that he is lying and
knows it. The scale of the crisis is laid out with blame firmly attached to the
‘forces outside the UK’. People are told to ‘stay at home or work, the virus is
extremely virulent. If we can stop the spread we stand a chance. Our top
scientists are currently working on plans to halt its advance.’ Out in the real
world people are hugging their loved ones.
21.10. The
group editor has shown that his spine has little rigidity when it comes to
dealing with the owner of this media empire. He is on the verge of taking down
the story, even though they now know it’s not just is true but even worse than
they imagined. He looks at the screen displaying the story and sees it update.
A picture of the owner is now in the middle of the page along with other influential
faces including the Minister. Underneath the single word – ‘ACCUSED’. ‘Who they
hell did this?’ he shouts. ‘I did,’ says the online Editor, ‘You said the
people deserve the truth’.
21.15. The
Minister is coming towards the end of statement that is being relayed on every
media channel possible around the world. The newsreader knows he has one chance
of a question, one chance to ask what everyone might want to know. Suddenly he
has a voice in his ear gabbling excitedly. ‘Minister,’ he says interrupting his
final words, ‘Are you aware that a leading national newspaper has accused you
and a group of influential people of being behind this situation and that there
is no evidence of outside forces?’
21.20. Faith
and I sit staring at our coffees. It is clear that this is out of control. The
physical virus is spreading and reports are coming through of the web beginning
to show erratic functioning as the virus infiltrates. 3g and other mobile
networks have failed and our over reliance on the internet is now beginning to
look like a bad mistake. I look up to see tears in her eyes. ‘We did our best,’
I say. “I know,’ she replies, ‘It’s what they have done that I can’t forgive.’
21.25. There is one network that isn’t being degraded
or failing. A network that only a small group of extremely powerful people know
about and have access to. Hand held devices are being activated and
pre-programmed messages with instructions are being sent. Those in the ‘know’
have always had an exit planned in case this scenario happened. It’s what money
and power deserve they believe. They made this world, it’s their wealth that
has fed the system. However the mass of the population suffer they will be
safe.
21.30. The office is empty apart from his PA and him.
‘We’d better go know,’ he says to her gathering his case with a few belongings
plus a photo of his family who he will never see again. ‘You go,’ she says ‘I
will just do a final look round’. As he leaves the office he turns to see her
go up to the portrait of the man who had ruled the organisation without failure
for decades. He pulls the door to and misses her lean up and kiss the painting.
She mutters ‘goodbye my love,’ and takes a small pill from her purse.
21.35. ‘We can’t just stay here,’ says Faith and gets
up leading us back to the CRISIS room. She stands in the doorway and glances
round the stricken faces. The screens are showing the extent of the disease but
keep freezing or blanking out. I watch her glance around the room. ‘Where is
he?’ she says. Without reply she shouts it again. A senior member looks up, ‘He’s
gone back up to his office.’ She turns and sets off again.
21.40. The
group Editor bangs the phone down. ‘For fu*ks sake what else is not going to
work. He turns to the reporter. ‘You and you, get up to his office and start
asking him questions. If he’s going down we are not going with him. Go and be
blo*dy journalists and nail the b*stard.’ They run to the lifts but they are
not working. It’s going to be a long climb up thirteen flights to the
penthouse. If he has been part of what is happening and has happened it’s going
to be hard to stay professional.
21.45. The
hitman watches as a helicopter hovers over the building. Slowly it descends to
land on top of the roof. His phone no longer works so he is going to have to
decide on what to do himself. It is clear that the situation is in ‘meltdown’.
He smiles, he knows that helicopter well, he knows what is happening. Years of
obeying orders means he does not judge. For him the strong survive at the
expense of the weak, that is the order of things. He has a mission to complete.
21.50. The
reporter and colleague knock on the door of the media owners office that
occupies the top floor, an area bigger than most people’s entire house. The
reporter has only been here once as a sycophant, part of a staff party to
celebrate the purchase of another huge chunk of international media. He
remembers seeing the Prime Minister, senior religious leaders and other
international moguls sharing the moment. He feels sick in his mouth as he makes
the link with the current situation.
21.55. The
staff at hospitals have had to give up. The numbers are too great and there is
nothing they can do anyway. In many areas rioting is breaking out. Despite
Twitter, Facebook and other social media slowly collapsing the message of what
has and is happening has spread. Across the world people are rising up against
those that have ruled them, their anger at the realisation of the level of
corruption unbridled. Others hide, boarding up there homes and sinking into the
safety of the family.
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