Prime Minister Francis Urquhart and 9/11
- Thread starter MarkWhittington
- Start date
“This is all very interesting, Mrs. Peel,” Alan Shore said, “but I’m not sure I can help you in this matter. For one thing, this seems to be within the jurisdiction of the British courts.”
“But as I explained—“ started the older, but still very handsome looking woman seated opposite his desk.
“And for another thing, secret prisons have been an accepted practice since the War on Terror began. Even if they are on the coast of—where did you say?”
“Wales.”
“You and I may deplore the practice, but there it is.”
“The reason I’ve come to you, Mr. Shore, is that British courts, having been largely appointed by our current Prime Minister over the years, will not even hear such a case.”
“Nevertheless—“
“The facility at Penrhydeudraeth has been extant since the early 1950s. It does not exist so much for the internment of enemy combatants as it does for certain operatives of friendly powers whose continued liberty is judged to be detrimental to national security. These include British and American operatives who are—or were—nominally on our side.”
“American did you say? Does our government know about this?”
“Not at the highest levels, I’m told. Some officials of your CIA are in on it. There is a list of American residents of the Village there in the folder.”
Alan looked. Yes, there they were. “How did you come across this information?”
“Let us just say that I have my own sources.”
Alan considered for a moment. He glanced at Denny Crane who had been sitting comfortably in a guest chair, his eyes closed. It could either mean that he was asleep or was listening intently.. “I must admit,. Mrs. Peel, that your proposal intrigues me. We won’t have standing to help your friend, as he is a British citizen. But these Americans—first thing I’ll see if we can find their relations here in the states and see if they are interested in suing the British government for their release.”
“Thank you.”
They got up. Alan escorted her to the door and they shook hands. Old enough to be my mother, Alan thought. Still, there are possibilities.
When she was gone, Alan said, “Denny, my thanks to you.”
“For what?” he grunted, his eyes still shut.
“For not making some kind of crude sexual advance on my client.”
“I was giving you a chance at her.”
“Ah, I see. How generous of you.”
Later, Mrs. Peel returned to her Boston hotel. The portly Chinese gentleman was still there. “Well?” he asked.
“The ball is rolling,” she replied. “I think we have our insurance policy made out. Mr. Urquhart will not cause me to disappear when I inform him of my wiliness to testify about our little operation in New York.”
“It will still be dangerous.”
“I’ve probably committed numerous counts of high treason already. I have nothing to lose. All that matters is that Steed be freed from that place.”
“But as I explained—“ started the older, but still very handsome looking woman seated opposite his desk.
“And for another thing, secret prisons have been an accepted practice since the War on Terror began. Even if they are on the coast of—where did you say?”
“Wales.”
“You and I may deplore the practice, but there it is.”
“The reason I’ve come to you, Mr. Shore, is that British courts, having been largely appointed by our current Prime Minister over the years, will not even hear such a case.”
“Nevertheless—“
“The facility at Penrhydeudraeth has been extant since the early 1950s. It does not exist so much for the internment of enemy combatants as it does for certain operatives of friendly powers whose continued liberty is judged to be detrimental to national security. These include British and American operatives who are—or were—nominally on our side.”
“American did you say? Does our government know about this?”
“Not at the highest levels, I’m told. Some officials of your CIA are in on it. There is a list of American residents of the Village there in the folder.”
Alan looked. Yes, there they were. “How did you come across this information?”
“Let us just say that I have my own sources.”
Alan considered for a moment. He glanced at Denny Crane who had been sitting comfortably in a guest chair, his eyes closed. It could either mean that he was asleep or was listening intently.. “I must admit,. Mrs. Peel, that your proposal intrigues me. We won’t have standing to help your friend, as he is a British citizen. But these Americans—first thing I’ll see if we can find their relations here in the states and see if they are interested in suing the British government for their release.”
“Thank you.”
They got up. Alan escorted her to the door and they shook hands. Old enough to be my mother, Alan thought. Still, there are possibilities.
When she was gone, Alan said, “Denny, my thanks to you.”
“For what?” he grunted, his eyes still shut.
“For not making some kind of crude sexual advance on my client.”
“I was giving you a chance at her.”
“Ah, I see. How generous of you.”
Later, Mrs. Peel returned to her Boston hotel. The portly Chinese gentleman was still there. “Well?” he asked.
“The ball is rolling,” she replied. “I think we have our insurance policy made out. Mr. Urquhart will not cause me to disappear when I inform him of my wiliness to testify about our little operation in New York.”
“It will still be dangerous.”
“I’ve probably committed numerous counts of high treason already. I have nothing to lose. All that matters is that Steed be freed from that place.”
Who put the bump in the she-bump-a-bump?
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
You might comment. I couldn't possibly say that.
You might say comment. I couldn't possibly that.
You might that. I couldn't possibly say comment.
I couldn't say. You might possibly comment that.
It works in so many ways.
It also starts to look like John Prescott taking it too far...
You might say comment. I couldn't possibly that.
You might that. I couldn't possibly say comment.
I couldn't say. You might possibly comment that.
It works in so many ways.
It also starts to look like John Prescott taking it too far...
Come, they told me, pa-bump-a-bump-bump
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
More to come as Sir Francis decides what to do about the meddlesome Mrs. Peel. And, meanwhile, the Sino-Russian War takes an unexpected turn (unexpected by everyone, but--well, you know.)
Prime Minister Sir Francis Urquhart stood on the balcony of his Hong Kong hotel suite and watched the fireworks display. It had been three days since the last units of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army had departed and the people of the new Republic of Hong Kong were still celebrating. Units of Gurkhas and Highlanders had reentered Hong Kong for the first time in ten years, obstensively to provide training for the Hong Kong Defense Forces. It would be a long time, Urquhart mused, before they would leave again.
The Sino Russian War was going nicely too. Much to the shock of the world, three Chinese Armies crossed the frontier into Siberia three months before. At first they had rapidly overrun Russian positions and had even cut the Trans Siberian Railroad, isolating Vladivostok. Urquhart had kept his part of the bargain by deploying Aegis class ships of the Royal Navy and other anti ballistic missile units to prevent the war from going nuclear, which all the world, even as it condemned the Chinese aggression, was ready to accept. Urquhart had also publicly offered his good offices to both sides of the conflict to resolve the situation.
The Chinese had overrun much of Siberia. Unfortunately for them keeping Siberia was proving another matter. The Americans were busily supplying the Russian forces in Siberia with arms and other support. As a result, China was embroiled in a guerilla war in the forests and tundra of one of the most desolate places on Earth and the strain was starting to tell.
The Chinese had been enraged. Their ambassador had some choice words with Urquhart in his office at Number 10 a week ago. Urquhart had favored the man with his reptilian smile and said, “Well, you have to understand, officially Her Majesty’s Government has to oppose your expedition into Siberia. So I can hardly suggest to the American government that they should stop shipping arms to the Russian forces in Siberia.” The Chinese Ambassador had left his office fuming.
Life would be grand if it were not for that confounded Peel woman. She had dispatched her smarmy little American lawyer into his office to issue demands. “I hate to extort and run, but we really must have an answer soon.” Urquhart had almost ordered his disappearance then and there. But, Alan Shore had enough goods on Urquhart to make life very uncomfortable indeed. Discrete inquiries by MI6 were being conducted to find out where Shore had gotten them. Urquhart had his own private suspicions.
It may well be, therefore, that Mr. Steed would have to be only the second person in history to leave the Village alive. That, unfortunately, would only prove to be a temporary solution. Urquhart would not be safe so long as those damning documents were out there, ready for use at any time Something had to be done.
The Sino Russian War was going nicely too. Much to the shock of the world, three Chinese Armies crossed the frontier into Siberia three months before. At first they had rapidly overrun Russian positions and had even cut the Trans Siberian Railroad, isolating Vladivostok. Urquhart had kept his part of the bargain by deploying Aegis class ships of the Royal Navy and other anti ballistic missile units to prevent the war from going nuclear, which all the world, even as it condemned the Chinese aggression, was ready to accept. Urquhart had also publicly offered his good offices to both sides of the conflict to resolve the situation.
The Chinese had overrun much of Siberia. Unfortunately for them keeping Siberia was proving another matter. The Americans were busily supplying the Russian forces in Siberia with arms and other support. As a result, China was embroiled in a guerilla war in the forests and tundra of one of the most desolate places on Earth and the strain was starting to tell.
The Chinese had been enraged. Their ambassador had some choice words with Urquhart in his office at Number 10 a week ago. Urquhart had favored the man with his reptilian smile and said, “Well, you have to understand, officially Her Majesty’s Government has to oppose your expedition into Siberia. So I can hardly suggest to the American government that they should stop shipping arms to the Russian forces in Siberia.” The Chinese Ambassador had left his office fuming.
Life would be grand if it were not for that confounded Peel woman. She had dispatched her smarmy little American lawyer into his office to issue demands. “I hate to extort and run, but we really must have an answer soon.” Urquhart had almost ordered his disappearance then and there. But, Alan Shore had enough goods on Urquhart to make life very uncomfortable indeed. Discrete inquiries by MI6 were being conducted to find out where Shore had gotten them. Urquhart had his own private suspicions.
It may well be, therefore, that Mr. Steed would have to be only the second person in history to leave the Village alive. That, unfortunately, would only prove to be a temporary solution. Urquhart would not be safe so long as those damning documents were out there, ready for use at any time Something had to be done.
OMG Mrs Peel and Steed- dont kill them off!
On a more serious note, with Britain so influential all of a sudden, is the British economy the same as OTL?
Somewhat larger.
She was a Bump, a Trump, and a bit of a Hump . . . she was a B - U - M - P, Bump!
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
"You might say that. I couldn't possibly comment."
Umm... no he doesn't. Evil git. Although I would rather someone othr than Blair had been PM, but I won't go into that.