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New Buckingham Palace, London
General Augustus Gloop was sweating. Granted one always sweated when one weighed as much as a small automobile; even the slightest exertion was enough to render the General exhausted. But today's sweat was due to nerves rather than effort…he had been summoned to see the Empress, and he already knew the topic of discussion. The last months had been nothing but one raid and one attack after another, the Resistance seemingly emboldened with the saving of their beloved leader from the hangman's noose. But it was more than that…Gloop felt it. He had no evidence to back up his theory; it was only a hunch, and the Empress did not wish to hear about anything that was merely a hunch. But that did not change Gloop's premonition that this was only the first act of something larger…the Resistance was building up to something, and it made him uneasy. In the wake of its director's suicide, the Intelligence Division had been placed under military jurisdiction, meaning that Gloop was in charge. And no matter how many spies he placed or how many sting operations he attempted, the enemy had a maddening ability to always get behind him. They could not possibly know when and where he was searching; the simple fact was that Gloop did not have enough men to try to cover the entire planet, which had become his theater of operations. Even a network of millions became a tricky thing to find when one had an entire world to search. Slipping a spy into the enemy camp was his only strategy. But he had only eleven willing agents…all Oompa-Loompas to reduce suspicion and allow easier interaction with the Resistance's largest base of popular support…eleven scattered across every continent on Earth save Antarctica.
It would only be blind luck if one of them was finally picked up and taken back to Resistance HQ. The enemy hid their movements and plans very thoroughly; there were no "hotbeds" where an agent might be posted indefinitely. The Resistance struck and disappeared, and there was no knowing where they would be until after they had already come and gone. So now the spies were circulated through labor camps and other areas where there was likely to be Resistance sympathy, hoping that they would catch some advance notice of a Resistance action and be in position when it came. But so far there had been nothing…in no small part because the field officers were incompetent and cared more about their salaries than their duties…for all Gloop knew, he might have already missed several prime opportunities to get his spies into the enemy ranks. And the Empress was growing impatient.
"Her Majesty will see you know," an orderly said, addressing General Gloop in an imperious tone despite the officer's greater rank. The orderly led the way down a corridor and into one of the Palace's countless reception rooms, Gloop humming along behind in his hoverchair. Veruca Salt stood in front of the window, glaring out at the overcast sky outside. The orderly bowed and left, but the Empress did not turn.
"Your Highness?" Gloop said nervously. Veruca at last deigned to notice him.
"General," she said, her voice cold, "you have been flying your pet Oompa-Loompas from one side of the planet to the other for the last six months. I want results."
Gloop raised a trembling hand to wipe the perspiration from his upper lip. "It is a difficult sing, Your Majesty. Ve do not have any kind of varning…I do not know vere ze Resistance vill be until it is too late." He frowned, angered at his own inability to bring in the rebels. "I do not have solid intelligence…I eiser need more men or more information."
Veruca turned and gave him a patronizing look, leaning back against the window. "So you need a bigger budget. Is that it?"
"I did not say zat, Your Majesty. I only meant zat…" He paused. What did he mean? "I am doing all I can," he said finally, "but it is not enough. Ve are always too late."
"Would it be easier if you were out in the field yourself, overseeing these operations in person?" Veruca asked the question with a seemingly genuine interest, her eyes wide and curious.
"It would be less frustrating," Gloop said honestly, sufficiently troubled that he had forgotten where he was and who he was talking to. "If I had access to recovered intelligence in person, rather than zese sloppy reports, I might have some chance…" he stopped, and glanced down at his own enormous bulk. "But of course zat is impossible," he finished.
"I don't see why," Veruca said innocently. "I think it would be an excellent idea for you to resume field duty, General. As a matter of fact, I wish it. Immediately."
Gloop again peered down at the expanse of his gigantic gut. He pressed a button so that the back of his hoverchair tilted as far forward as it would go, and he made a valiant effort to sit up and stand. It had been at least a year since he had last placed his feet on the floor…and he had gained more weight since. The General grunted and strained, reaching his flabby arms out in front of him in an attempt to create some leverage. But it was of no avail. He slumped back in his chair, exhausted. "Your Majesty…"
"General, I gave you an order." The Empress's expression was as cold as ice. Gloop disgusted her…sitting there like a giant, overstuffed grub.
"Your Highness…I…I cannot perform field duty in my present…" his voice trailed off fearfully. Veruca Salt said nothing, but the look on her features darkened. She moved swiftly across the room with long, rapid strides, moving to the guard near the door. She said something which the General did not catch, the soldier looking fearful…and then the Empress turned…to reveal the man's 9mm pistol in her right hand. Gloop managed a brief scream of "NO!" before she fired, blood and brains spattering the far wall as the General's head exploded. The hoverchair wobbled backward slightly from the force of the bullet impact and then sat still, listing to one side as the body of its enormous passenger slumped over in the cushioned seat. Veruca tossed the pistol at the guard's feet, distastefully contemplating the mess she had just made.
She glanced back at the guard. "Get someone to clean that up, will you? And have Gloop sent to me as soon as he is ready. He wanted field duty…now he has it." With that, she was gone, leaving the horrified guard staring at the titanic ruin of flesh that had been the first Augustus Gloop. Veruca smirked to herself as she strolled leisurely down the corridor. Now we'll see if he can't get me some better results.
