Sarah fell silent. She glanced towards the door of her office. Hannah had been answering calls all morning. She’d assumed most of them were from the press. She resolved to seriously consider giving the young woman a raise at some point.
“It’s getting bad out there,” Winston said, softly. Sarah didn’t reply. He cleared his throat. “And not just out there. You can feel it, in Parliament. A sort of miasma. Don’t you think?” He looked at her expectantly.
“I think this has gone beyond surgeries and press conferences,” she said. “How many of us are there?”
“Us?”
“The loyal opposition.”
Winston sat back. “By which I assume you mean those opposed to the current direction of the government.”
A sudden suspicion came to her. “You aren’t recording this, are you Winston? Trying to get me to say something I shouldn’t?”
Winston stared at her. “What possible reason could I have to do that?”
Sarah met his glare with one of her own. Then, she sagged back into her chair and gave a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Winston. The events of the past few days have me… on edge. I’m jumping at shadows.”
“I understand. For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. A headcount is in order. We need to know how much opposition we can muster in the event it comes to a vote. I’ll start working on my end.” Winston stood. “I know we’ve had a somewhat contentious relationship, Sarah, but… we are on the same side. We both want what’s best for Tower Hamlets and the people here. And if that means we have to give Albion a kick up the rear, then we’ll make it a damn good one.”
“Inspiring, Winston. Make sure to put that in your speech.”
“Already have, my dear. Ta.”
Sarah watched him leave, an amused smile on her face. It faded quickly, however. She swivelled her chair and looked out the window, watching the drones and wondering what she was missing. She felt as if she were at sea, being buffeted by unseen leviathans.
“I suppose the only thing to do is to swim,” she murmured. She pulled out a pad and a pencil. After a moment, she began to make a list of names. When she’d finished, she called Hannah into her office.
Hannah ducked her head in, a pensive look on her face. “Yes?”
Sarah considered the list for a moment longer, and then passed it across her desk. “We’re going to have a dinner party. Won’t that be fun?”
“A… party?” Hannah replied. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Take a look at the guest list before you judge.”
Hannah read the list, eyes flicking back and forth. She frowned. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were planning a revolt – or a coup.”
“Nothing as revolutionary as that,” Sarah said, turning to face the window.
“And when is this soirée to be held?”
“The day of the TOAN conference.” She leaned back in her seat. “There’s a certain symbolism there, I think. While they pretend to fix the world’s problems, we’ll do the actual work. It’ll make good copy for the press, if nothing else.”
“And what if no one RSVPs? Some of these people definitely wouldn’t want to be seen with you – or in East London, for that matter.”
Sarah smiled lazily. “They will. There’s plenty of dissent in the Commons. Even the Tories aren’t a hundred per cent on board with the Prime Minister’s current vision for the country. But any resistance is doomed to fail – unless someone takes charge.”
“Welcome to the Resistance,” Hannah said.
“Exactly.” Sarah looked at her assistant. “They never located those two reporters, you know. I described them, but Faulkner found neither hide nor hair of them. Curious that, don’t you think?”
“Maybe he’s lying,” Hannah said, after a moment.
“Maybe.” Sarah studied the other woman. Hannah had seemed… off, of late. Bothered about something. Maybe it was the stress of the job getting to her. Or maybe the shooting had affected her more than she was letting on.
“If there’s nothing else…?” Hannah began.
“No, no. Thank you,” Sarah said. She turned back to the window, fully awake for the first time since yesterday. There was a plan now. A way forward.
But would it lead to victory… or something less pleasant?
Hannah sat at her desk, considering the list. The names were those of people of similar dispositions and goals – and people with no interest in allowing Albion a foothold in London, if it could possibly be helped. If one were planning to organise political resistance to the government’s current plan, the names on the list would be a necessary foundation.
She found herself admiring the ruthless pragmatism of it. In one motion, Sarah would find out who could be trusted, and irrevocably bind them together. Anyone who went to this party would soon be outed – and those who chose not to go, as well.
Once, she might have leaked the guest list to the press, and to DedSec. If Sarah had decided to come down on the side of Albion. But so long as Sarah was aimed in the right direction, there was no need to sabotage things.
Instead, she would put her efforts into making sure it all ran smoothly. The biggest issue with planning such an engagement was the optics. Anyone who looked at the guest list would immediately know what was up. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be an issue, but these days it would be inadvisable, perhaps even dangerous. Perhaps that was why Sarah had written the guest list on paper. Analog materials were more secure.
Hannah chose to follow her example, and laboriously scribbled plans and phone numbers as she made the preparations. It gave her something to occupy her mind, at least. To keep her from thinking about the previous day. About the way Faulkner had looked at her.
She’d heard nothing more from Bagley or Krish. From the police reports,
