I listened intenely at the meeting with the senior leaders of the resistance and their king.

"Our intent is to take the PM hostage," said Reed. "We will then negotiate with King Edward for a safe haven in Ireland and the release of all political prisoners."

"Why should we do that?" asked one of the militia officers. "why don't we march to Buckingham and the Parliament and take over?"

"If we can accomplish our goal without having to shed the blood of more Britons, so be it," said Reed. "A civil war will be costly, especially since we can not rely any support from the top generals and admirals in the military."

"Yes," said Dr. Arturo. "The coup which put King Edward's father on the throne had the support of the service chiefs."

"Well, we know that King Edward rules through sheer terror," said Harold. "He even purged the military. I doubt there is true loyalty to him, not even among those in Scotland Yard. But Mr. Reed is right; we can only rely on ourselves."

"Well, we'd better gather data for our plan. And we'd better review the emergency escape plans. Scotland Yard might be banging on our door, with the Army as backup."

I left and headed to a small room which was apparently a breakroom for the militia. I saw several people there, all drinking sodas or coffee. One of them was playing with a Nintendo Game Boy.

"Hey Colin," Wesley said to me, holding a donut. "You want some?"

"Sure," I said. I bit into the glazed jelly donut, tasting the raspberry jam inside. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit nervous. I mean, everything we've been working for is going to go down within the next day or two. Some of us might get killed."

"I've experienced situations like this before," I said.

It was late at night when Dr. Maximilian Arturo entered the guest quarters where I was sleeping.

"King Harold is summoning us for a meeting," he said.

Wesley and I followed the doctor. We went to a conference room, where King Harold, Jonathan Reed, and militia officers all gathered. I saw Arturo and Wesley bow down before the king; I followed their example.

"Mr. Reed," said King Harold, "tell us your plan."

"My liege," said Reed, "Prime Minister Farrington will be delivering a speech in Oxford University tomorrow morning at 10 AM GMT. There will be no doubt tight security. Scotland Yard will be there, as well as a squad of bobbies. Scotland Yard will be preparing for an assasination. What we will do is we will use an armored vehicle provided to us by Beruth to storm into the place and nab the PM. We will take him to this sewer access, where he will be marched through the sewer to a van painted to look like a public works vehicle. Scotland Yard and the police will be looking for an armored vehicle while the van takes the PM to a warehouse in Southhampton, owned by one of our shell corporations. If that location is compromised, we take him to Site Bravo. From there, we'll sneak him to a small sub which will take him to a ship we have floating tqwenty miles from the British coastline."

"Okay, we'll do it," said the king.

"We shall not fail, sire."

And then we were dismissed.

We had to wake up early next morning. Jonathan Reed assigned me to be a lookout for the team. We rode in a Mercedes van; the armored assault vehicle which would be used for the capture of the prime minister was stashed inside the trailer of a truck. Dr. Arturo was in the van with me; all of us were wearing the headbands to prevent our detection from the psychic network. I fell asleep at times.

It was about 8:30 AM when I first saw the buildings of the Oxford University campus. I already noted the Mercedes police cars parked along the street.

"Ah, Oxford," said Dr. Arturo as he looked at the campus. "It sure brings back memories. Well, we'd better make sure our hats our on."

I was given a hat to wear, to cover the electronic band which would prevent the humaggs at Scotland Yard headquarters from scanning my mind and alerting the prime minister's security detail. Dr. Arturo led the way; it was only fitting that he would be in charge of the lookout team as he had once been a professor here and knew the campus well.

It was not too hard to see where the prime minister would give his speech; it was in an outdoor quad. Oxford University students have already gathered here. I can see uniformed police officers with the batons hanging from their belts, as well as uniformed Scotland Yard agents. I assumed that among the students were Scotland Yard agents dressed in plainclothes. I looked up at the rooftops of the nearby buildings and saw people holding what appeared to be sniper rifles.

"Tight security," I said.

"The PM has good reason for it," said Arturo. "He is more popular than the king, if you know what I mean."

"Everyhing okay," I heard Reed's voice say.

"Yes," replied Arturo. "No extra. Guests are here; host has not arrived yet."

"Excuse me," I heard a man say. I turned and saw a uniformed Scotland Yard agent.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I must search you." He patted me down. "It's okay," he said, and then he left.

There were a couple of people in suits gathering at the podium. One of them tapped the microphone.

Then at 10 AM, he spoke.

"Hello, students and faculty at Oxford," said the man. "I know why you are all gathered here today. Today is a critical juncture of the destiny of this kingdom."

He continued to talk on and on, and then he introduced a speaker. It was not the prime minister, but some fellow from the House of Lords.

"Mr. Ambassador," I heard Arturo say. I turned and saw the kromagg Ambassador Rakakot.

"Hello," said Rakakot. "I received the message from Jon. I know what will go down here."

"So what is your story?" I asked. "I mean, to security."

"My office informed the prime minister that I wish to speak to him about some trade matters. I am scheduled to meet with his lord the king tomorrow."

"Have you spoke with your king?" asked Arturo.

"I informed him something big will happen," said Rakakot. "I understand that communications from my embassy are being monitored, just as your embassy in our kingdom is being monitored by us."

A few more speakers spoke, talking about stuff I have no clue of.

And then, the announcer came to the speaker's podium.

"Hello," he said. "Well, I know you have all been patient. The time has now come. I am honored to introduce unto you his Majesty's Prime Minister, Nolan Farrington!"

And then this bespectacled man walked up, dressed in a three piece suit. He was short in stature, and had brown hair combed over his bald spot. He wasn't exactly a charismatic figure, unlike King Edward.

"The host is here," I heard Arturo whisper.

"My fellow subjects," said the prime minister. "I am honored to speak among you, in the university where I was educated. I know you have all been patient..."

The prime minister continued his speech, on subject matters I was unfamiliar with. Dr. Arturo was listening intently; this was his country, his world.

I looked around. The prime minister's security detail was more attentive, most likely because the prime minister was on the podium addressing the Oxford student body.

"Increased security," I whispered into my mike.

"Acknowledged," I heard Reed say.

I continued my scan of the area, looking for any activity that may derail Reed's plan. Prime Minister Farrington continued his speech.

"It is time," said Reed.

a minute later, I heard the roar of an engine. I saw the armored vehicle burst into the place. The students who came to hear the prime minister's speech ran in terror. I heard gunfire coming from a machine gun mounted on the armored vehicle. Several Resistance militiamen came out of the vehicle and opened fire on the Scotland Yard security detail. I took cover and watched from around the corner of a building. I saw them grab the prime minister and hosve him into the armored vehicle. Then they drove off.

I immediately fled the scene. Scotland Yard would cordon off the area as soon as they can, and I had no desire to be subjected to a scrutinized search.

"Are you all right, Mr. Mallory?" Dr. Arturo asked me.

"Yeah," I said. "We'd better meet up with Reed."

The drive to Southhampton was not very long. We finally reached the warehouse where we were told the prime minister would be held.

Arturo and I knocked on the door. the doctor gave a password, and then we were both admitted inside. An armed man searched the both of us.

"They're okay," said Reed.

"Can we see the prime minister?" asked Dr. Arturo.

Reed led us to a stairwell and we went down to the basement level. He showed us a door with a small window. "This is a cell where we would keep prisoners," he said.

Dr. Arturo looked in, and then I looked in. It was a simple room, with a toilet and a sink. In there I saw a naked man, squatting down. He is the prime minister.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"It's us," I said.

"What do you want?" asked the prime minister.

"We are the British Freedom Alliance," said Reed. "You have been taken prisoner under the Conventions of the Conduct of War. You will not be harmed as long as you cooperate."

"You're rebels?" he asked. "I thought Scotland Yard made it up."

"They did wrongfully accuse people of plotting against the Crown," said Reed. "But we are guilty of that offense. We will make demands to your king in exchange for your release. If His Majesty does not accede to my demands, you will be taken to a remote location to be tried for your crimes."

"Crimes?"

"You arrested many Britons for imagined crimes, violated civilized standards of justice during their trials, and sent them to rehab camps. You are responsible for the atrocities committed in those camps."

"I was just following the mandate of the king and Parliament."

"Just obeying orders is no excuse for a crime. That has been the judgment of the courts for almost half a millenium. If your king does not accede to our demands, you will be the one to bear the penalty for the crimes your government committed."

"Wait!" shouted the prime minister. "You and I can make a deal!"

"Let's go," Reed said to us. And so we left him alone in his cell.

"Once again, for those of you just joining us," said the BBC reporter. "a group of terrorist conducted a raid on Oxford University where Prime Minister Farrington was giving a speech. Detials are sketchy at this point; there is no mention of casualties. Scotland Yard has stated that the investigation into this terrorist attack is ongoing."

Jonathan Reed used the remote control to turn off the Toshiba color television. "No word on our demands," he said. "It's been an hour since we sent our demands to the king and the leaders of Parliament."

"We should be patient," said Wesley. "I am sure the king is discussing this matter with the leaders of our government."

"I wonder if they'll accede to our demands," said Dr. Arturo.

"We're going to have to get the PM to our ship in the North Sea," said Reed. "We're prepared for a full naval blockade of the island."

Then he spoke.

"They're coming," I heard Marc LeBeau say from acorss the dimensions. "They'll be there in less than ten minutes."

"We'd better hurry," said Arturo. "It seems the government found where we're keeping the PM."

"How do you know?" asked Wesley.

"LeBeau told us."

"Then we'd better get the PM out of here," said Reed.

"If they'll be here in minutes," said a militiaman, "they might have helicopters circling above us now. They'll be able to track us."

"Damn!" shouted Reed.

"What?" I asked.

"I should have known. I forgot one little detail. It was those psychics from Scotland Yard that found us."

"We all had those headbands," I said. "And I'm sure this building is shielded from remote viewing."

"Yes, but I forgot about the prime minister! The psychics could read Farrington's mind. He led them here."

"Now what?" asked Wesley.

"This operation is a failure. I would have liked it to succeed, but it was not to be."

"At least Marc was able to warn us so we can escape with our lives," said Dr. Arturo. "I'm sure we have an emergecny escape."

"Yes, we do," said Reed. "And as a last resort, we have you."

"THIS IS THE BRITISH ROYAL ARMY!" I heard a loud voice say. "YOU ARE SURROUNDED! COME OUT OF THE BUILDING WITH YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED!"

"The Army?" asked Reed.

"YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE ANOTHER WARNING!" yelled the British Army officer.

I saw two militiamen haul Prime Minister Farrington into the main room.

"We'd better use the escape tunnels," said Reed.

"No!" shouted Dr. Arturo. "The Army has soldiers in the tunnels below the streets. There is only one escape."

"But you can't take everyone," said Reed.

"We'll stay," said the militia officer. "We'll secure this place and we'll cover for you."

"Gather around me," said Maximilian Arturo. Reed, Wesley, and I all joined hands with him.

Suddenly I heard a crash, and the front wall of the warehouse collapsed! I saw a huge giant robot, about as tall as a lamppost. It walked on two legs, and had two arms and it was shaped like a man. It appeared the Army employed giant robots, like the ones I saw in Japanese anime.

"SURRENDER NOW!" shouted a voice from the robot; it must have been the voice of the officer in charge of the operation.

The two militiamen holding the prime minister let him go. I kept watch.

Then I saw machine gun fire coming from two barrels mounted on the hips. The two militiamen fell, as well as Prime Minister Farrington!

Then I felt that weightless sensation I feel when I cross dimensional boundaries.