Reign of Evil

She tried to call out but wasn’t able to connect. Which made sense, since GCHQ controlled all of Great Britain. She called back Musso and asked him to contact Conor McGinty and to give him a time to connect, which was thirty minutes from then. Musso said he would, and in the meantime she logged onto Facebook and pulled up a popular application used to play word games.

While she waited, Genaro made them another pot of coffee. She was on the third pot. Her stomach was torn up from the stress and the acid. He urged her to eat and she finally chose a slice of bread with some butter on it. She couldn’t bring herself to try anything else.

Two of her Facebook friends saw her online and tried to initiate a game, but she ignored them. Finally, thirty-seven minutes after she began waiting, she saw the word Laith pop into her box. She replied with Luachra. Laith Luachra was the mother of Finn mac Cumhaill, better known as Finn McCool. Not only was he a great Irish mythological warrior, but it was also the nickname of the Irish Seventeenth Army Ranger Wing—the Finn McCools.

Then they opened a chat window.

Conor: Merry Christmas. What’s up?

Preeti: Nothing merry about it.

Conor: Uh-oh. Tell me.

Preeti: Jerry’s dead. Trevor may be too. Lost three others last week. Might lose the Queen. Need help.

There was a long pause.

Conor: Sorry about loss. Terrible. What news with Queen?

Preeti: All other coms are hijacked. Highest-level bad guys. Want to overthrow Queen.

Conor: We’ve been tracking something. Bad day to get help.

Preeti: Can’t help it. Do you have anything?

Another long pause.

Conor: Have two choppers at Culdros. Two men. Not going to be happy, but looks like you need it.

Preeti: You have no idea.

Conor: It must really be bad. How’s Ian?

Preeti: You can guess.

Conor: Yeah. I can. Listen, Patrick Kelly and Keith O’Reilly will be in contact. Keep lines open.

Preeti: Will do. And thank you, Conor.

Conor: As always, payment in beer.

Then he signed off.

Genaro, who had been following the conversation over her shoulder, straightened. “Ingenious. I read a book once about spies communicating during MMORPGs. What was your plan B if this didn’t work?”

She frowned and hugged her sweater around her. “Carrier pigeon.”

“I think they’re extinct.”

“That says it all.” She sat back in her chair. England had a long history of kings and queens and not everyone found the throne through peaceful means. What was that mnemonic they’d made her learn in order to recall the long line of English monarchs?

First William the Norman
Then William his son
Henry, Stephen, Henry
Then Richard and John
Next Henry the Third
Edwards One, Two, and Three
And again after Richard
Three Henrys we see
Two Edwards, Third Richard
If rightly I guess
Two Henrys, Sixth Edward
Queen Mary, Queen Bess
Then Jamie the Scotsman
And Charles whom they slew
Yet received after Cromwell
Another Charles too
Next James the Second
Acceded the Throne
Then good William and Mary
Together came on
Not till Anne, Georges Four,
And Fourth William all passed
Came the reign of Victoria,
Whose longest did last
Then Edward the Peacemaker
(He was her son)
The fifth of the Georges
Was next in the run
Edward the Eighth
Gave the Crown to his brother
Now God’s sent Elizabeth
All of us love her.

Then Preeti added two lines:

But now Arthur is here
And if you’re not white….

She struggled to find the right word, but all she could think of was:

Then your life is shite.