Nic, notorious Machiavelli of the Daily News, gathered his news team together immediately upon returning from the clandestine meeting with Guthrie. Now, twenty four hours after instructing his journalists in their handling of the Strontian deaths, he contemplated the next step.
Clearly, deaths in the Lashkar Gah district caused by an American drone were an embarrassment for which news needed to be routinely kept to a minimum, but Guthrie’s line felt hollow. That the incident involving the ex-officer might spark some sort of outraged feeling in the UK was weak not to say unlikely, even more so in a media numbed America. There had to be a great deal more to all this. Nic leaned backward as was his wont, balancing his chair on its hind legs.
He considered the geo-political angle. Operational drone bases continued to be built by the Americans with a clumsy lack of transparency; Ethiopia and the Seychelles, Mali not long since, Saudi Arabia even more recently. All were active. Others were planned, details deniable as being notional. The UK meantime held to a balancing act with the USA characterised as their ‘special relationship’, an unfortunate phrase that rafts of clubland jokes floated on. So what was Guthrie’s problem?
He had carefully noted the barely nuanced commentary on a future fatal accident enquiry, particularly the implication that it could be led towards a finding, whether critical of the Commission and dismissive of the role of the helicopter or the other way round. It had been an unsubtle attempt to ensure reporting of the journalist deaths excluded any reference to the drone at Lashkar Gah, Noel’s witness to what occurred, and the standard American cover-up that had followed.
Nic paced his office, channelled thoughts into streams. It was said of him that the circulation graphs for his newspaper and its attendant magazines were the only curves he ever dreamed of – an attention seeking comment typical of tabloid columnists and, of course, inaccurate.
The Gulf War. The War in Iraq. The Afghan what…War? No, never that. The Arab ‘spring’…woops, don’t use that expression (made in the USA). Libya bombed in a humanitarian measure initiative to sell aggression to the voters. A threatened invasion of Iran. A threatened invasion of Syria. The public were getting sick of it.
On a lighter note were revelations about assassinations, illegal hacking of computers (more than 60,000 operations worldwide), illegal surveillance of social media (Yahoo, Facebook, Google, whatever), and heavily armed advisers all over central and east Africa, Yemen, and much of the Middle East. The world Press was saturated by reports of the American disregard for niceties of law or ethics. People seemed no longer to care. Such news had become well worn, like secondhand clothes or smoothed pebbles the river slid easily past.
United States’ policy makers had commonly used threats of violence or financial pain to snuff out criticism. ‘You are either for us or against us’ they would warn, a dollar sign hanging mutely. The current Secretary of State was considered a moderate, but was connected to the Israeli lobby through the brother who had converted to Judaism as a young man and become big in counsel. There would be more aerial surveillance around the Arabian peninsula, more drones over Gaza, and more empty rhetoric on those UN Resolutions which had been disregarded by the Knesset.
Perhaps the time had come to campaign against UK politicians’ support of the United States where American policies were not in the interests of people across the ocean. He could advance editorials down this route and gauge public, and political, reaction.
An uneasiness grew in him that his nose was being ringed by a rotor. He was missing something. What was that throwaway remark of Guthrie’s – how astonishing it was that such a rural event could escalate? He picked up the desk phone.
Five minutes later Archive was being directed to resurrect all files on a drone incident at Lashkar Gah district, its subsequent reporting and the trend of current American diplomatic activity regarding Afghanistan.
An hour of further cogitation later, Daily News was phoning the editor of the local paper from whom first reports of forest fire had been gleaned. In his hand was a column’s worth of fanciful speculation entitled ‘Detective Inspector Smith – The Mysterious Wandering Suit’. The local editor was informative, his fingers constantly taking the pulse of Lochaber. Indeed, yes, a hospital contact had advised of police interest in a concussed biker with a Detective Inspector Smith’s arrival from the deep south. The local editor opined that Detective Inspector Smith was highly likely to be CTC – ‘Special Branch’ if you preferred tradition. He had been seen pottering around Strontian, apparently fascinated by fires, and had been present at the questioning of witnesses to the killing of Nic’s staffers.
Assistant Director was next to receive a call. Nic was solicitous and free with assurances that his Daily News utterly despised the common Press indulgence in witch hunting. His newspaper would not espouse criticism of courageous men who risked life and limb to bring pictures to breakfast tables panting for disaster. Assistant Director must, however, appreciate that this approach relied on Commission personnel not giving tongue to remarks concerning low flying aircraft.
Daily News finally, and casually, recalled that Guthrie knew the identity of the arsonist but would not reveal it in order to protect a source. “Odd, one would have thought,” Daily News said, rumpling his hugely untidy covering of hair. “Leaky thing to say.”
Assistant Director coughed, still coming to terms with the realisation that the viscount was a spook. Destined for The Establishment by upbringing and influence, he knew that Guthrie was of an older strata in the layered formation of society. Guthrie could make the ground tremble under him, if he wished.
“Of course, he may have been indicating an ability to stifle speculation about arsonists in the Commission ranks, wolves in sheep’s clothing, so to speak,” Daily News ventured, watching a pencil travelling under and over the fingers of one hand.
“Yes, indeed,” Assistant Director said. “Yes, I’m sure that was it.”