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Thursday, 23 May 2002

82 90 - day one


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MIDNIGHT CALLER

The players football union counter terrorist unit has received a warning. The first genuine, black contender for the post of England manager is going to be assassinated in the run up to the 2006 world cup finals.

The following takes place 90 days before the start of the world cup finals in 2006.

The phone rang, and the urgency of the gruff voice at the other end of the line immediately broke the sleepy reverie of the PFU boss Gordon Tinker.

'Is that Tinker?'

'Yes, do you know what time it is?'

'Yes I do, it's just before midnight.'

'Well I've had my horlicks and …'

'Listen, I'm calling from the Castlefield outstation. There is evidence to suggest that an attempt will be made to kill Carol Palmer.'

'An assassination attempt will be made on the first, serious, black, trans-sexual England team managerial candidate…'

Said Tinker, in a plot-outlining kind of way.

'…who is this?'

But the line was dead.

Tinker was immediately on the phone to his trusted head of counter-terrorism, Bamm-Bamm Boston (whose parents had an unfortunate Flintstones fixation, as his sister 'Pebbles' could testify to).

'Bamm-Bamm, we have a problem.'

'Tinker had a Tom Hanks fixation.'

'I'm listening.'

Boston, was a big fan of the hit TV sitcom 'Frasier'.

As head of the counter terrorist unit (CTU) Boston had a roving brief that combined a public relations cover, with a lesser known role as departmental 'license to kill' permit holder. The permit holder was also given exclusive fishing rights for a five mile stretch of the river Irwell, which caused no end of amusement to the office staff when he dropped his Walther PPK into the water and had to take it back to base for sterilising.

'We've just received information that the England management candidate Carol Palmer will be assassinated in the run up to the World Cup.'

'You're kidding!'

'That's not an appropriate response.'

'I'm sorry, I'm a bit on edge. My daughter, Curiosity, popped out for a kebab with a friend of hers an hour ago and I've not seen her since.'

'Is this relevant?'

'Well not right now, but it might be later. Who's the source.'

'They didn't tell me.'

'Are you sure it wasn't one of those hilarious prank wind-up calls from a radio DJ?'

'Well it could be I suppose.'

'Get some sleep sir, we'll discuss it tomorrow.'

Tinker was about to hang-up when he suddenly sat upright in bed. He remembered now about the Castlefield outstation - it was decomissioned almost two years earlier - what code was being used by the caller?


90 is a work of fiction, none of the characters exist and if there are any coincidental name/career/organisation matches with real life then they are not intended and hopefully will not cause offence.

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Antony Melvin
 

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