Chapter 33

"An Audience with Margaret Thatcher"

Christmas Eve in Lockerbie sure felt different to say the least. Normally, like the rest of the world, the citizens would be awaiting the birth of Christ and their children would be anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus, Father Christmas or whoever people would call him as. In the town's post office, there was a stack of Christmas presents that were recovered from the debris fields.

Some were still wrapped, others were torn open in the blast and others were just obliterated when the bomb exploded at 31,000 feet. Some were big and expensive, others were small and inexpensive, but one thing was for sure that these presents would never be delivered to their loved ones. It didn't matter if the givers were rich or poor, a life can never be replaced.

…

This was the case with Raymond Alden, who lost his daughter and heiress to his publishing firm, Laura, in the bombing. I knew that I wanted to speak with him, but I first needed to cover the arrival of the British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.

"What do you think, Psyduck?" I asked as I finished doing my hair in front of the bathroom mirror. "Too much?"

"Psy."

"You're right, too little," I answered, tying my hair in a ponytail before placing a white pearl necklace around my neck. Stepping out of the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and made sure my two piece black suit was neat, my black pantyhose had no runs in them, and my black high heels free of any mud. "All right, Psyduck. Ready?"

"Psyduck."

Throwing on my black overcoat, I proceeded out of the inn I was staying in and met up with my crew who were waiting for me. By the time we arrived in the center of town, a hodgepodge of reporters and townsfolk were already gathered awaiting Mrs. Thatcher's arrival.

"Ah, Lucy," I heard Farmer Jones say as he stepped towards me. "I see you cleaned up nice."

"Got to look my best for the Prime Minister, Mr. Jones," I replied. "How long have these people been waiting?"

"About an hour. Mrs. Thatcher is on her way from Carlisle and should be arriving any minute."

At that moment, we saw what appeared to be several black town cars arriving while being escorted by the Scottish police. Even if it seemed like the Prime Minister, you would almost think that the Queen herself was visiting. Getting out of the car, Mrs. Thatcher was greeted by the flashing of cameras and my fellow reporters demanding questions as they were held at bay. She then proceeded into the town hall and I followed from a short distance, only to be met by two members of her detail.

"I'm sorry, Miss," one of them said, keeping me from going inside. "The Prime Minister is holding a private audience with the victims' families."

"Better do as they say, Lucy," advised Farmer Jones, pulling me away while everyone else was pushed back by the authorities.

…

So for 45 minutes, we were all standing out in the cold while the Prime Minister met with the families of the Pan Am 103 victims. It was cold out, but if I wanted to be a top reporter, I needed to brave the cold. Eventually, the doors opened and out stepped Margaret Thatcher as reporters asked their questions.

"Madam Prime Minister!" I called out to her and catching her attention.

"Yes?" she asked in her posh British accent. "Young lady?"

Her look of intimidation made me nervous, but I had to remain professional.

"Madam Prime Minister," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm Lucy Stevens from CMN in Ryme City and I…"

"Ryme City? Did you Ryme City?" she remarked.

"Yes, Ryme City," I replied, motioning for Psyduck to come forward. "This is Psyduck. He's my Pokemon Partner."

Mrs. Thatcher studied Psyduck carefully and then turned her attention back to me.

"This is your Pokemon, yes?"

"He is."

She then nodded for me to follow her back to her motorcade, much to my surprise. Even Farmer Jones was surprised at this.

"Go on, Lucy," he whispered, urging me to follow her. "Go on."

So nervously, I followed Mrs. Thatcher to her car and climbed in. I couldn't believe it, I was sitting next to the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Well, Psyduck was sitting in between us, but still…there was a sense of excitement in the air.

"Madam Prime Minister," I said as she climbed into the car. "This…this is an honor to be in your presence."

As the motorcade drove off, Mrs. Thatcher would answer the questions of why she wanted to pull me in with a private audience with her and without my crew.

"Yes, isn't it, young lady?" she sighed. "You say you are from the Far East, correct?"

"Japan, ma'am," I answered. "Ryme City, Japan. You might have guessed that there were Pokemon trainers on board Flight 103."

As the motorcade turned away from the center of Lockerbie, Mrs. Thatcher took in the extent of the damages brought on from the crash.

"Miss Stevens," she asked as the markings of the dead were sticking out of the ground. "It is brought to my attention that there were Pokemon trainers on board the Pan American. Since you have a duck Pokemon in your company, I felt that I needed to answer any questions only you alone might ask of me."

I couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation.

"And don't worry about your crew, Miss Stevens," she continued. "They're being invited to follow me as well."

"So, Madam Prime Minister," I said, taking my notebook out of my purse. "I must ask you, what makes you think that Pokemon were used in bringing down Pan Am 103?"

"You don't think that I know that Pokemon were used to bring down the Pan American? Well, I can assure you that our country's secret service had been following Team Rocket for some time."

"MI6?"

"Of course. Ever since that warning came out in Finland two weeks ago to the American Embassy over there. You see, Miss Stevens, the Queen ordered Parliament to keep a close eye on Team Rocket ever since the threat came out."

"Has Team Rocket ever attacked or threatened the United Kingdom in any way, Mrs. Thatcher?"

"They've supported the Irish Republican Army for the past ten years, supporting those vile bastards. Tell me, Miss Stevens, do you believe that Team Rocket should be eliminated?"

I couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation in the Prime Minister's voice. To her, Team Rocket was like a bug that must be squished and squashed quickly.

"Of course, but it isn't as easy as it sounds, Madam Prime Minister," I answered, trying to not make myself feel like a fool in front of a representative of royalty. "Team Rocket was formed out of the Second World War and has had the same goal for many years: to rule the world using Pokemon."

"They aren't bent on ruling the world, Miss Stevens," she remarked firmly. "They just are recruited by evil organizations to support them in disrupting our everyday lives using living creatures like Pokemon."

"Madam Prime Minister," I asked as we suddenly found ourselves nearing the Maid of the Seas cockpit. "Do you really believe that is the case?"

"I do, Miss Stevens. In fact, when I heard that you were coming here to report on the crash, I knew I needed to have you interview me."

"But we need you to be in front of a camera."

"Yes, that's why I need you to interview me in front of the cockpit after the sun sets on Lockerbie. Her Majesty wants to send a message to Team Rocket that the sun will set on their existence in due course."

Now it appeared that was the reason why we were coming towards the church in Tundergarth…for Mrs. Thatcher to send a message to Team Rocket in front of the cockpit.

…

…