The Inner Circle

"Sorry, Mama, it's been a bit... well, you know. Full on. I put the Germans in the boardroom -- Theresa's on coffee duty in there."

"Good thinking. The Nigerians?"

"The Penthouse. Mr Eisenstadt is negotiating. And the IRA men are in the conservatory with Colonel Mustard."

"Ha fucking ha, dear. I'll deal with Signor Gonzalez first, then the Nigerians. Get Hendrik to run interference for Theresa."

"It'll be a pleasure. What about the Down Street boys?"

"Let 'em play with themselves for now; it's what they're best at. And Sonia?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Hold my calls. All of them. I don't care if God him-fucking-self wants to talk to me, I'm in a bloody meeting."

"Yes, Mama."

Eight years on, Sonia still feels like she's holding her breath whenever she talks to Mama Cornelius. The closing door brings a moment of relief: yes, she's still in the middle of a catastrophic shitstorm, but at least she's here on her own recognizance. The peace is short-lived.

"Sonia, where are the papers on those bloody Krauts?"

Mr Everson is without a doubt her least favourite person in the whole company, perhaps the world: an absolute cunt to work with. Never quite got to grips with the fact that he's no longer in charge.

"I left them in your in tray, along with the Down Street merger details."

"What fucking use are they there? Christ, woman, is it any wonder the company's in trouble?"

SLAM!

She chooses to rise above his spiteful nonsense. As it happens, ACI has never been in better shape, but Everson can't be expected to know that. He is no longer part of the inner circle.

Her phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Are you alone?"

"For the moment. Who is this?"

"A friend."

"Isn't everyone these days? I suppose a name is too much to hope for?"

"It is. But I'm sure you'll be reassured to know that your Tunisian secret is safe with us."

Deep breath. "I see. Magician?"

"More or less. Is your cover secure?"

"I think so. Mama trusts me, at least, and that's all that matters around here."

"Good. We have a job for you."

"Of course. Why else would I be hearing your voice?"

"Cornelius is due to meet with a Victor Gonzalez, is that correct?"

"Not due to. She's with him right now."

"Fuck!"

The line goes silent for nearly a minute; Sonia entertains herself trying to picture the scene at the other end. When the voice finally returns, it carries a distinct undertone of panic.

"Gonzalez will be trying to sell something. Do you know if he brought it with him?"

"No idea. He and his two aides each have a briefcase, nothing larger. What is it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Sonia rolls her eyes and tries not to sigh too loudly. "You're not really making this any easier."

"I suppose not. There are many agendas to take into account here, but I'm afraid your ease isn't high on any of them. At the top of most is that this transaction not be permitted to go ahead. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

"The item is rather bulky, so by the sound of things it isn't on the premises. That gives us a little time, at least."

"Perhaps Mama won't agree to Gonzalez's terms?"

"Oh, she'll agree. The co-- the item is worth quite a lot to Cornelius herself, and vastly more to her allies. For them to acquire it would be... unfortunate."

"So what do you expect me to do about it? Murder the sellers before they can hand over the goods or something?"

"Could you? That would certainly be a good start."

"It's more in your department, isn't it?"

"Well, consider it as a backup plan. In case you can't find a better way. Just do whatever you have to."

"Anything else? Should I bump off the Nigerians while I'm about it?"

"Mama's grubby low life dealings are not our concern."

"Fine."

Sonia hangs up, considering her options. This clearly isn't a time for subtlety. Mama and Gonzalez must be almost through the formalities by now, might even have closed their deal. Perhaps murder isn't such a bad plan after all.

There's a pistol in her desk drawer -- all members of the inner circle have one -- and Sonia is lifting it out when the idea comes to her. She laughs out loud, quickly stifles it; spends another minute thinking through the angles.

Yes, she decides. It should work.

She slides the drawer closed again and sets off for the hospitality suite.
Posted by matt at September 23, 2004 11:00 PM