CHAPTER 37 – A DINNER IN THOSE CIRCLES
She was escorted back to the car and they were followed by the two men who had been in the room with her. The cigar smoker – Petrov? - was still in the car. He had not bothered to get out when they arrived, instead was talking on a cell phone and she listened carefully. He was not speaking English, and she struggled to recognise the language immediately, thinking it was perhaps Russian or a derivative of it. He spoke fast and waved his hands around incessantly, and the tone was angry. She shuddered. This was certainly not a man she wanted to cross.
The restaurant was fifteen minutes away, and she used this time to try and plan her moves. They approved of what she had done so far, that much seemed clear. That meant she would be allowed to continue and John and the team could chip away at finding out who was behind all this. The Russians – yes. The younger man, he spoke with an English accent and there was definitely one of asian descent. The darker skinned man – he had not spoken so she had yet to work out his nationality. He looked Indian perhaps, but didn't want to generalise.
When they arrived at the restaurant, it was her escort who once again opened the door and it was also he who helped her out of the car, waiting until she was stable on the high stilettos that she had no experience walking in. He tucked her tightly beside him, and she had to endure it. If she didn't she would surely break her ankle.
They were shown to a back room of the restaurant, completely private. So far, she had seen no one since leaving the SGC, that was not involved with this group. That fact disconcerted her more than anything. Seated at a table, were four other men and she almost tripped over her feet when she recognised one of them.
At one end of the table sat the Director of the FBI.
The proverbial crap just hit the fan... oh boy. What are you going to do with that information... oh holy crap on a cracker. This is unbelievable... oh, the story I will write, once we have them cornered. This is going to be huge.
He nodded at her and she could only stare, until she was prodded uncomfortably in the back and urged into a seat opposite him. Disbelief had her stumbling slightly and she wondered what other surprises were going to come her way tonight.
"Thank you for joining us, and may I say? You look lovely. You will make a most delightful frontperson for our group. PR is such an integral part of business management in today's business world and you, my dear? Will be a perfect addition. May I get you something to drink?"
She found herself staring in fascination at him, his words so normal, disussing something so abhorent. She shook her head in answer to his question, finding momentarily, that she was unable to formulate words coherently. A glass of wine appeared in front of her, and she looked up in surprise at the waiter who stood beside her. It seemed that her wishes were to be mostly ignored, should they not agree with their own.
Dish after dish was placed in front of her, and the englishman seated beside her brought her wine glass to her lips repeatedly. It seemed churlish to refuse, and the wine, combined with the medication in her system was a heady combination and soon she found her mind clouded as though it was filled with cotton wool. She felt the englishman's hand upon her knee, climbing higher and it took an extraordinary amount of effort to push it away, until even that seemed too much and the next time it returned, she simply left it there.
Words floated around her, sometimes addressed directly to her – and these she fought to understand and process. They spoke about the weapons and she tried to follow, but she was tired. So very tired. Her duties in the future were discussed and when she tried to protest, albeit a little feebly, she was reminded in no uncertain terms that her family and friends would remain safe only as long as her agreement with them continued.
Words finally broke through the fog and she pushed to her feet, upsetting her glass of wine and stumbling as the unfamiliar shoes barely held her steady.
"Why me... why did you pick me? I have no argument with you in the past. I have always done my job to the best of my ability and to do this? Surely you can see that I have always held my integrity to be of the highest standard. I'm not like any of you..." She stumbled again, and the englishman pulled her down, causing her to tumble into his lap. He held her there, hand stroking her thigh and she shuddered, trying to pull away.
"Hush... you're getting upset. You should feel honoured that we have chosen you for this task. You were chosen because of your moral standards, because of your integrity. We knew that once you found out what was going on out there, you would be outraged and happy to expose these people. Arrogant... all of them.
She looked at him aghast. Arrogrant? Colonel John Sheppard? Colonel Samantha Carter? Do you people have any idea what they have done for this world? Arrogance is in this room, in spades.
She had to force the words out. "The weapons you wish to buy. The weapons you have commissioned to have built for you? What do you intend to do with them? Will you use them to terrorise the rest of the world, make them compliant with whatever plan you have in mind? Or will you simply sit on your thrones of power and look down upon your underlings and feel priveleged to do nothing to get everything? What makes any of you different from Hitler?"
The Russian had surged to his feet, anger on his face. "Silence!" He spoke in heavily accented English. "You will do exactly what we tell you and I would suggest changing your attitude or your family will suffer. Our plans will proceed exactly as they are intended to. You will bring down the stargate programme and your family will live. Then you will take your place as head of public relations in our organisation. This is not negotiable."
The FBI man cast a derisive look in the Russian's direction. "Be quiet Petrov. Scare tactics will not work on a reporter of Miss Harmon's caliber, it will simply make her dig her toes in and do the opposite. Nicole? May I call you that?" He didn't wait for an answer, just reached across and refilled her wine and waited while the englishman picked up her glass and held it to her lips, waiting until she had taken several small sips. "You will be well compensated and your family will be... taken care of."
Different words, same meaning. Does he take me for a fool?
The alcohol wound through her system and she could not recall whether she had eaten very much of the dinner that had passed before her with dizzying speed. She did not recall either, having actually picked up the wine glass to drink. It seemed always to be placed at her lips and as the evening had worn on, she had simply sipped whenever it was placed there. It seemed that free will had been taken away without her even realising that it was gone.
The Director of the FBI addressed her again. "We are not such bad people Nicole, you'll come to realise that. There is so much confusion in the world right now, we simply seek to end that confusion by forming one world wide group, one ruling power. Each country controlling a small parcel of the world? Blocking trade, withholding important supplies because of a squabble with another country? This has been going on for centuries and has simply bred distrust and mismanagement. It can't be allowed to go on any longer. We are taking away the reins from those who perpetuate this weak and ineffectual method of government. One power. One world."
The englishman – she had still to learn his name – finally allowed her to leave his lap and retain her own chair. She spoke and her voice was not recognisable to her ears.
"One world? A noble thought... but how do you seek to control that one world? Through tyranny, through fear... do you really think that is any better than what we have now? How many are involved in your group... when will I be privy to that information?"
It was the englishman who had the answer for her. "This is just a station along the way for you Nicole. It is not until you reach your destination that you will meet us... all. We are many and have been slowly cultivating members for a long time. We chose you two years ago, after you had published a particularly provocative story regarding the orphanages in eastern europe. That showed compassion and a commitment that we needed. Each of our group has been chosen. We began with a small, tight group that held one vision for the future of this world. It has been a long, but extremely satisfying road and we are nearly there. Funding is always an issue, and the United States governement, along with some of the other so called superpowers, spend far too much on the space programmes. Our future is not in space. One world. That is sufficient for us if it is maintained and controlled properly."
Nicole's voice was barely a whisper. "The weapons... fear tactics..."
The englishman was surprised. "No, Nicole. Insurance. Protection. Unlike the group you have been working with in Atlantis, we have no wish to cultivate relations with outside worlds. Should they decide to come, we will be prepared. And not welcoming at all."
Again, she attempted to push through the fog, but her limbs felt heavy and was wondered briefly if something had been put into her wine. She was sure that she hadn't had that much to drink, but suddenly, she was losing clarity and the room was tilting a little.
"Have any of your been out there?" It was a struggle to formulate the words. "It is magnificent and the people I met so far, on other worlds? Welcoming... and with much to teach us. Surely you can see that?"
"Our world is starving, Nicole – because of mismanagement. We cannot allow others to come and undermine what our group attempt to rebuild. Our world will be self sufficient and there will be food for all. You think of us as arrogant, I can see that in your face. But it is simply self preservation. This world will self destruct in a short time if it is left to continue on the path that has been set for it. Humanity at the moment, is a greedy runaway train that has no thought for the future. Our mandate is to protect what is ours, that is all."
"Why force people to join your group then? Surely there is someone like me out there, who would come forth volunarily to do the job you want me to do."
"Each member is chosen. We wanted you. End of story. If the chosen one resists, then pressure is asserted, on their families – yes? But eventually? All of our members have come to … agree... with our methodology."
The room swam then, and she found herself falling, darkness blinking on the edges of her subconscious. She felt arms pick her up, voices, the sensation of movement... perhaps a car. Then speed... then nothing.