The British Rose stood in front of the computer screen. The Organizer was giving orders. “High Society and The Caterer are at odds, the Wonzu is trying to play both sides against the middle. The Sea Horse is stirring up trouble everywhere. It’s your job to maintain order, to promote the Organizer’s agenda, make them see what we want them to see.”
“Of course T.O., I’m great at misdirection, you know that. How is our common friend?” “The image on the screen was a shadow, but the British Rose knew who he was talking too. The image was just for anyone that might stumble in. Of course, the image was twenty years old, and it wasn’t even the Organizer’s silhouette, not that he existed.
The Organizer was a creation of the man in the hospital bed, but under another name. It had been called Mr. Oliver, the Don, and Power Broker in the eighties. The Organizer was a front man for an organization that had a fundamentally different goal than they pretended too.”Is everything in place?” The British Rose nodded, he himself was not what he had appeared to be.
“The Sea Horse will soon figure it out, but not before the coming battle that will pit him against myself. The scene is to be a local airport, transport a gold shipment out of the hands of the local authorities. The Sea Horse would be there to stop me, as planned.”
“This will reinforce in the public’s mind two things, the importance of their hero, and the danger of our criminal element. High Society will step in and attempt to take the gold for himself in the fight. That is when our men will seize him, the real objective of the mission.”
“How do you know that either will be there?” The concealed voice asked? “Simple, I’ve floated the threat to the papers, and in the various nooks and crannies of the city. They’ll be there Thomas, they just won’t know you’re involved, at least not yet.”