Project: Evil - The Consultant Meeting part 1

‘I don’t understand this expense report,’ said Daw, holding the sheet of paper up.  ‘The bus fares are OK, but I thought public transport was exempt the Congestion Charge.’

‘It wasn’t a scheduled service,’ explained Brian, looking at the EVIL Officer who’d refused to pay his expenses as he thought they were suspect.  The bus being a total write-off raised a few eyebrows, but O’Feld had given it the green light when Brian explained he’d stolen it.  He’d had to lie about how he’d come to be stuck on the south coast without any transport and as he wasn’t a very good liar it had appeared obvious to all that there was very little truth in his story.  As a rule, that was sufficient grounds for signing off a suspicious expense claim, but the EVIL Officer was just starting to find his feet – Brian had arranged for a henchman to practise his chainsaw techniques on the EVIL Officer a couple of months previously when he’d first interfered with Brian’s budget, and the EVIL Officer had only just returned from sick leave as a result.

‘How are the prosthetic feet?’ asked Brian.

‘The feet are fine,’ answered the EVIL Officer frostily, ‘but I’m having difficulty in obtaining a blue disabled parking pass.  A second one prepared for me has just gone missing from the forgery department. I’m beginning to think we may have a thief in this organisation,’ he fumed. 

‘No shit?’ asked O’Feld, bored with the conversation.  More importantly he was reconsidering the wisdom of appointing an EVIL Officer to oversee the finances of the project.  Since the man had returned from his sick leave – the first employee to actually have been sick during such an absence – there hadn’t been a single penny misspent, every expenditure was absolutely accounted for; which was a bit of a problem for O’Feld as he habitually siphoned cash out of the project into his personal bank account.

‘So, Brian, who is this consultant you want us to employ?’ he asked, terminating the discussion about expenses by taking the sheets off Daw and signing them himself.  If Brian had realised it was going to be that easy he’d have slipped a couple of latte’s and some gold bullion on.

‘Doctor Froshdu,’ he replied.  ‘He’s the lead expert in deploying animal body parts into low Earth orbit,’ he explained.

‘So, bring him on board, I’ll get Daw to prepare the NDA,’ O’Feld said, referring to the company Non-Disclosure Agreement, a standard document that effectively says that if you don’t disclose, O’Feld Industries won’t take you apart, body part by body part without anaesthetic. Occasionally O’Feld Industries stood by their side of the agreement, but not often.

‘There’s a problem,’ said Brian, shuffling on his seat.  ‘He won’t work for an evil Megalomaniac organisation, on principle.’  Daw leant forward.

‘Which principle?’ he asked.  Brian shrugged.

‘Pick any you like, as we don’t have any, he feels he can’t work for us.’

‘Can’t he be persuaded?’ asked O’Feld, giving Daw the nod.  Daw picked up the phone and started to dial.

‘He says not,’ answered Brian, looking across to Daw, who cupped his hand over the mouthpiece.

‘I took the liberty of pre-empting your request.  He’s being picked up right now.  You never mentioned he’s morbidly obese, I’ve got two henchmen with an industrial injury claim headed my way,’ Daw said, returning to his call.

‘He’ll be accommodated on the lower, lower floor, in about half an hour,’ said O’Feld.

‘Is that the ground floor?’ asked Brian.

‘No, it’s below the ground floor,’ said O’Feld, ready to move on.

‘So, the basement?’ asked Brian.  O’Feld shrugged a little.

‘Kind of below the basement,’ he answered.  Daw put the phone down.

‘He means the dungeon. Your consultant will be there soon.’

*

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The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

If you've enjoyed this chapter of Project: Evil then check out the blog every Sunday, Wednesday and Friday as the story unfolds and, if you haven't done so already, why not follow the blog.

If you know someone who has a warped sense of humour please pass them the link to my blog so that they can enjoy 'Project: Evil'.

I can be followed on Twitter too - @RayASullivan or on Facebook - use raysullivan.novels@yahoo.com to find me

To find out more about my ancestors visit my sister’s website http://sullivanfamilyhistory.angelfire.com/

Visit my books on Amazon (for Kindle owners) and Smashwords (for access to all other formats and access to Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Sony, WH Smith, Kobo and many other good ebookstores.

Digital Life Form is available on Amazon.com in paperback for $8 (or for £5 plus P&P in the UK for UK readers - contact me on raysullivan.novels@yahoo.com for details)

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Project: Evil – The First Double Cross Meeting part 1

Brian jumped in the car and closed the passenger door rapidly.  If O’Feld, Daw or anyone from work saw him meeting up with a member of the British Secret Service then his life would be forfeit; if anyone who knew him at all saw him in a Skoda, it would be worse.  Bund looked across at Brian.

‘Did you bring the document?’ he asked, his eyebrow raising, stretching the sticking plaster holding his hearing aid in.

‘Yes,’ replied Brian, looking around furtively before withdrawing the envelope from his jacket inside pocket.  He handed it over to Bund, who turned it over several times, before pulling it out of the brown envelope to examine it carefully.

‘Is it genuine, or a forgery?’ he asked.

‘A forgery, of course,’ answered Brian.  O’Feld Industries forged everything, even public information leaflets that could be picked up for free from the Post Office.  Bund nodded slowly, set the time to ‘one hour’ on the document and threw it onto the dashboard under the windscreen, the blue background and white image of a stickman in a wheelchair reflecting off the glass.

‘These things are like rocking horse shit where I work, which is a problem given that we’re all working way past the age we’d traditionally have retired,’ said Bund, easing his door open.  ‘Come on, let’s take a stroll now I don’t have to fear the traffic wardens,’ he said.

They braved the sea-front wind, leaning into it as sea spray crashed around them.

‘I have some concerns about your project,’ said Bund, trying to cremate a sandworm using an aerosol can of UHT double cream and a pack of Swan Vestas, but failing as the wind kept blowing the matches out.

‘What sort of concerns?’ asked Brian, wondering why he had to justify his project every step of the way to anyone who felt they had an interest, possibly missing the key purpose of a project manager but absolutely in line with the PRINCE2 principles.

‘It’s the armadillo balls,’ said Bund, ‘they don’t grow on trees.’  Brian was stunned; OK, he was punching a bit above his weight as a Project Manager on a major overseas infrastructure project, given he was a catering manager by training – but for Bund to insinuate Brian might think armadillos were vegetation!

‘No, they grow on armadillos, and I’ve got two in the lab, with plenty more due soon,’ he crowed.  Bund looked impressed.

‘On order? Who from? Amazon? Armadillos R Us?’

‘We’re a bit smarter than that,’ answered Brian, sheltering in a bus stop, the sea spray crashing against the Perspex sides.  ‘We’re going to get the randy little buggers to mate.  Start with two, then you get four, then sixteen, you get the idea,’ he said, adding, ‘and if they’re like my pet mice they’ll be at it with their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers all night long.’  Bund took all of this on board before speaking.

‘Well, the two creatures in your lab, don’t expect too much magic from them unless they’re gay,’ he said, adding, ‘but the success rate for breeding armadillos in captivity is very low, even when you put opposite sexes together.  And I don’t know what your definition of randy is, but they don’t mate until they are in their second year of life.  So, by your estimate of fifty thousand gonads, assuming two per male and a fifty/fifty relationship between males and female it’s going to take you an awfully long time to get enough to fulfil your project aims.’

‘So, why are you telling me this?’ asked Brian, despondence falling all over him.

‘Because this is my last assignment, but the catch is that they won’t let me retire until it’s complete,’ answered Bund, fiddling with a cufflink in a way that made Brian feel very uneasy. ‘By my estimate, I’ll be one hundred and fifty two before you accumulate fifty thousand gonads.’

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The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

If you've enjoyed this chapter of Project: Evil then check out the blog every Sunday, Wednesday and Friday as the story unfolds and, if you haven't done so already, why not follow the blog.

If you know someone who has a warped sense of humour please pass them the link to my blog so that they can enjoy 'Project: Evil'.

I can be followed on Twitter too - @RayASullivan or on Facebook - use raysullivan.novels@yahoo.com to find me

To find out more about my ancestors visit my sister’s website http://sullivanfamilyhistory.angelfire.com/

Visit my books on Amazon (for Kindle owners) and Smashwords (for access to all other formats and access to Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Sony, WH Smith, Kobo and many other good ebookstores.

Digital Life Form is available on Amazon.com in paperback for $8 (or for £5 plus P&P in the UK for UK readers - contact me on raysullivan.novels@yahoo.com for details)

For quick access to the various Kindle, Kobo, WH Smith and Smashword links please use the table below to view my books

To View My books In....

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Da Dan Brown Code - Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Everyone in the room looked at Lady Bartholomew, who turned very red.  Bradford searched for another source of water to throw over her until he realised it was anger causing the glow.

‘Sorry, Lady Bartholomew, my mistake,’ said Surly, pressing a button and speaking into a microphone.  ‘Snivell, you French faggot, rustle up a fresh chapter involving the buffoons of policemen or the morons from Blackpool, and a change of ball gown for her Ladyship might be a good idea.’  He sat back and waited for chapter thirty one to arrive.

Luckily, for all concerned, fresh chapters are never that far away in this style of adventure.  Usually they pop along way too early for most readers and way too soon for characters building up for the big show piece action part involving improbable skills and unlikely locations.  For example, it wouldn’t be out of order for a manservant of a Lord of the Realm to be secretly conspiring with the arch villain of the plot while residing out of chapter in the kitchen of the stately home, when in fact he should be arranging for a new chapter to be provided.

‘P-P-Pleeeeeeease!’ moaned Lady Bartholomew, hopping from leg to leg.  The speaker buzzed and the pathetically stereotyped French whinging accent followed.

‘I’m, how you say, sorry for the delay Monsieur Teabin’, but I was on the phone to Monsieur Bino to plan a plot diversion.  Could you repeat the request, please?’ Surly opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Snivell.  ‘And you’re not a Lord of ze Realm, either, you’ve only just been knotted,’ he sniffed.  Bradford looked amazed.

‘So you got yourself a knighthood, Surly?’ he asked.  ‘Not just plain old Lee Shirley ‘Surly’ Teabing anymore?’

‘Surely Sir Lee Shirley ‘Surly’ Teabing must be close to being a Lord?’ asked Belsen, copping a belt from Lady Bartholomew, who then had to manage holding the waist of her ball gown without it.  Surly blushed and spoke to the assembled group before addressing Snivell using the microphone.

‘Sir Lee Shirly ‘Surly’ Teabing might be easy for you to say, but I reckon Lord Lee Teabing has an easier ring to it.  Snivell, a new chapter, without us, now, The mansion, 89 Teabing Road, Lincoln.  And put a first class stamp on it.’

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Missed the beginning? Click here to go to Chapter One

'Da Dan Brown Code' will be published in early January as 'The Last Simple'. Anyone who is registered as following either my blog or Twitter account will receive instructions on how to obtain a free e-copy of 'The Last Simple' shortly after it is published.

Also, don't forget to 'tune in' to the blog on Christmas Day when a Da Dan Brown Christmas Special will be uploaded.

If you've enjoyed this chapter of 'Da Dan Brown Code' then check out the earlier chapters in my blog and, if you haven't done so already, why not follow the blog. 'Da Dan Brown Code' is being serialised three times a week on Sundays,Wednesdays and Fridays until the final chapter!


If you know someone who has a warped sense of humour please pass them the link to my blog so that they can enjoy 'Da Dan Brown Code'.


I can be followed on Twitter too - @RayASullivan

Visit my books on Amazon (for Kindle owners) and Smashwords (for access to all other formats and access to Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Sony, WH Smith, Kobo and many other good ebookstores

For quick access to the various Kindle, Kobo, WH Smith and Smashword links please use the table below to view my books

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Welcome to the Multicultural Blog - Even the Oblivions and Moronians

In a week that has seen me welcome many international readers, some perhaps straying accidentally into the blog, others hopefully either returning after previous visits or recommended by friends, I have to approach this with a mixed view on the international community.

First, the positive.  This week saw the blog cross the equator for the first time, to Brazil - Cumprimmentos, amigo - to join the visitors from the UK, US, Russia, Singapore, France, Germany, Netherlands, China and Austria amongst others that also include India and Canada.  The list isn't as random as it looks, by the way, that's the order of ranking of pageviews by country over the past seven days.  Hopefully some, and preferably all of you out there, are enjoying the blogs.  Importantly I hope you're all getting into the Da Dan Brown Code (or The Last Simple as it's called at home).  Anyway, welcome to you all.

But now for the Xenophobic rant!

Anyone who's been watching the UK news over the last week will have seen the furore that has broken out over the decision by the British Border Agency to relax border controls this summer.  There's a major political spin on this as the relaxation is almost certainly in response to the budgetary constraints all countries are operating under, but directly as a result of governmental decisions regarding priorities.  The big debate in the UK press is how many unknown foreign visitors have entered the UK as a result, where are they from and where are they now?

Well, I reckon I know where they're from and where they've ended up.

There are two little known countries located somewhere between France and Australia that seems to have in inexhaustable amount of people who want to enter the UK and, ominously, make a bee-line to my corner of it. 

The first country is  Oblivia, a country with mild weather, mediocre beer and no sense of purpose.  Its inhabitants drift around aimlessly, which is irritating in a supermarket, bloody dangerous on a motorway when they drift languidly across the path of 40 tonne trucks.  Oblivians tend to congregate in clumps, loiter in public areas generally obstructing everyone else and amble along in busy shopping areas.

The second country is Moronia, which is populated by arrogant, pig headed, inconsiderate Morons (now you know where the word originates) who have a distorted view of self belief and personal rights.  For example, the Morons believe they have the right to be in front of any motorist, at any cost, any time.  Red lights are not for stopping at, they're for driving through.  In public spaces, Morons barge through, jump queues and generally throw their considerable weight around.

Incredibly both Oblivians and Moronians speak excellent English and generally the accent is indistinguishable from anyone else from these parts.

It might strike some readers that I shouldn't be ranting about a segment of the population that happens to speak excellent English - after all, if English is a language they're comfortable with then surely they are potential customers for my books.  However my view is that the Oblivians won't realise that this blog is talking about them and the Morons - well, I doubt they can read, judging by the way they act.  They're certainly incapable of absorbing the content of the Highway Code and most of that is in pictures!

The upshot is that if the UK Government want to find the illegal immigrants it allowed through this summer, they are based in the north Wales and Chester area, speak fluent English and are readily identifiable.  I'm up for a bit of vigilante Moron and Oblivian spotting for the Border Agency staff if they need assistance.

I can be followed onTwitter - @RayASullivan

email me on raysullivan.novels@yahoo.com

Visit my books on Amazon (for Kindle owners) and Smashwords (for access to all other formats and access to Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Sony and many other good ebookstores

Now on WH Smith!