Local time – 4:20pm, Sunday 17th June, 2011.
Prague, Czechoslovakia.
Douglas and Ryan had been prisoners together in their little room for almost two hours. Ryan seemed desperate to convince himself, by telling Douglas over and over again, that his powerful friend would save him. Douglas didn’t admit that he too hoped one particularly powerful Bilderberger might show some sympathy to his plight. He was getting tired of Ryan’s babbling. He thought of the hundreds of students he had taught over the years who were exactly like Ryan. His big ears, freckly skin and red hair made him look like a nerd. But the word nerd had a very different connotation these days. Douglas was used to the way a quick-witted student like Ryan could easily mesmerise a full lecture theatre with a smart-arsed remark. Nerd no longer meant shy and socially awkward. People like Ryan were so smart they could never see their own limits. Always ready to change the world. Too easily jumping into trouble.
‘I need to find a way to contact Maxwell. He’ll sort this out.’ This was the first time Ryan had let slip the name of his powerful ally and Douglas’ ears pricked up.
‘Maxwell? Do you mean Edmund Maxwell?’
‘Yes. The Edmund Maxwell. One of the richest men in America.’
‘And he’s paying you to stop the Bilderbergers?’
‘I’m managing various projects for him. The video was one of them. I’m his technical lead. You should have seen what else we’ve been working on. He needed me to come up with a way to project video onto a gigantic screen. We tried for weeks to find a solution. He wanted to use PVC or vinyl, but I knew they wouldn’t work. It was my idea to use heavy canvas. Cuts down on the glare. I got a nice bonus for that one.’ Douglas was amazed at the nervous chatter that rolled out of Ryan’s mouth. He seemed more afraid of silence than anything the Bilderbergers might do to him.
‘What on earth is Maxwell planning? Is he the one who was here last year?’
‘Yes. He found out about their plans. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t stop them.’
‘And he’s told you about the things you put on the video?’
‘Yes. It’s frightening, isn’t it? As soon as I heard, I knew I had to stop them. Same as you I guess.’
‘I just wanted to leave. That’s all.’
‘You know I thought they might kill me when they first brought me here.’ Ryan sat back on his chair, and lent back so the chair’s front legs were in the air.
‘They still might.’ Douglas replied. ‘You’ve really pissed them off. They’re probably too busy to decide what to do with us for now.’
‘What do you reckon will happen to you?’
‘I’m not going to be invited next year. That’s for sure.’ Douglas tried to smile. But he was tired of keeping Ryan amused. Solitary confinement had been painful enough, but having to listen to Ryan prattle was worse. He stood up and lent down hard on his chair, testing its strength.
‘How strong are you? I’ve got an idea.’
‘Not very. What are you thinking? We use the chairs to dig our way out. Haven’t you seen Shawshank Redemption? That tunnel took years…’ Ryan smirked.
‘No, you’re going to attack me with it. They surely can’t leave me in here to be killed by some computer hacking maniac!’
Ryan looked at him like he’d lost his mind. ‘I’m not going to hit you with a chair man. Jeez! Have you lost it or what!’
‘Haven’t you learnt anything today? Are there any sharp nails on your chair?’ Ryan still didn’t understand why he should be searching for sharp nails. Having inspected his own chair, Douglas ran his hand along the underside of Ryan’s chair.
‘Aha. Here’s one.’ Douglas then used all the will power he could muster to stab his thumb into the sharp edge of the nail. It took a couple of jabs to break the skin. Ryan looked on, bemused but not commenting. Blood started to trickle down Douglas’ hand, and he wiped a glob of it on the side of his temple. He let some drip onto his cheek, squeezing his thumb to milk as much blood as possible. He then sat down in the corner of the room and crumpled himself into a ball, as if protecting himself from attack.
‘I’m ready. Now, you smash your chair on the wall. And the table. Make as much noise as you can, and I’ll scream that I’m being attacked.’ Ryan finally caught on and seemed quite excited. He didn’t question how much trouble he might get in for attacking Yale’s Professor of Economics. He went about bashing the chair on the table, throwing it hard against the wall, and smashing it on the wooden door so the guard outside would hear. Douglas screamed in pain, and did a great impression of someone begging for their life.
‘Don’t hurt me! What are you doing! Please! Stop!’ After a few seconds of this, he changed his message. ‘Help me! He’s going to kill me! Get me out of here!’ The screams were genuinely alarming. It took only moments for the door to open, and Ryan positioned himself dramatically over the scared Professor, with the broken chair raised above his head. The guard pulled his gun out of its holster.
‘Freeze! Put the chair down!’ For a split second, Ryan thought the agent might shoot him. He dropped the chair and raised his hands in surrender, but just managed to keep a look of murderous rage on his face. Douglas whimpered.
‘Please. Get Leo Freeman. This man will kill me unless I get to speak to Leo Freeman.’ The guard had no idea what to do with this information. He picked the chair off the ground and threw it into the hallway. Still with his gun drawn, he removed the second chair, and the table. Then he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Ryan sat on the ground, exhausted from his ferocious assault.
‘Do you think he’s getting your friend?’
‘I bloody well hope so!’