Gatwick Bear and the Secret Plans (10 page)

“I don't need anyone to defend me. I can defend myself, and I can speak for myself” and, with that, Gatwick drank the last of his drink: “I've finished”, he said.

“It's your choice. OK, that's it for today. You can sign the confession in the morning”. The Inspector left.

What was Gatwick to do now? Looking around him, he thought that this wasn't quite like the Grand Hotel. There was a wooden bunk bed, a simple toilet, a small washbasin and a TV. He had better make the most of this. The top bunk seemed more exciting than the bottom one. So, Gatwick switched on the TV, climbed up the ladder, made himself comfortable and watched the news.

After a lot of talk about boring politics, which Gatwick didn't know anything about, they spoke about a big bank robbery that had taken place the day before yesterday. Someone was being questioned about it, the police thought they were on the right track. The police were continuing their search for others who might also have been involved. Though they assured the population that the super criminal they had behind bars was the brain behind the whole operation. They had an idea about where the money and gold bars were, but couldn't give information out about that just yet, so as not to spoil the enquiries. The Chief Inspector appeared on the screen. Gatwick got excited because he knew the man. The Inspector made a statement: “We will get every single one of them. We have to send out a message to these criminals that dishonesty does not pay. We live in a civilised society and will not let criminals ruin what we have fought for for centuries”.

‘
Mmmm, civilised?', thought Gatwick. That word came over his ear again. The police would do what was necessary to get these horrible criminals. He hoped they would get them soon because they certainly were not civilised.

He climbed down from the top bunk and thought he'd had enough now. It was time to go home. He tried the cell door, it was locked! Gatwick couldn't get out. He knocked on the door, but nobody came to his rescue. The only other way out was through the window above the bunk bed. That had iron bars running from side to side, and from top to bottom. What could he do? He'd have to stay the night. He switched the television off and put the light out, then he climbed onto the top bunk again and lay down, with his head on the pillow. Cuddling his wooden spoon, he looked up at the stars through the iron bars, until he fell asleep.

That same evening big things were happening in the White Alp bunker: the Eagles were in a right kerfuffle. Stud was freaking out on the warpath. He had told Sam to go and fetch Jet and Bird Dog. He wanted them all there, to listen to what he had to say. All three birds were perched on the edge of their chairs, shivering with fright. The air in the bunker was as thick as glue. The smell of cow dung coming from Gatwick's box was incredible, it clung and clung to everyone's nostrils. There were no windows to open and air the place. Then Stud started shouting at the three:

“How dare he put cow dung and garbage in the box! He must've known we were gonna take that there box, and he played a dirty trick on us. How did he know? I tell ya guys, no low-level trickster gets the better of me. Sam! Take that there box out, it smells like hell gone bad! Empty it, then store the box and the rope in the basement, ya never know when we might need them.

“You Bird Dog! Contact Miss Acid and ask her to go through CCTV footage carefully. I wanna know everythin' he did in the three days before he left London. I even wanna know how many times he went to the toilet: any suspicious movement! Anythin'! Go do that now and get outta my sight.

“Now, Jet! You dumbhead, did ya tell Gatwick ya were gonna take his box?”

“No, I never told him”.

“Then, how the hell did he know?”

“No idea. Sorry, sir”.

“That's great! That's so great, nobody knows. Who is this guy that he can run rings round me? Where is he now?”

“Sorry, sir, I don't know”.

“Ya dunno! Jet you thick skull, now listen carefully to what I tell ya, I ain't gonna tell ya twice. Just go and find him and bring him here. Have ya got that? I've had enough of this, I wanna question the guy myself. It's the only way I can find out what he's up to. I can't rely on ya useless lot. D'ya hear me? Do me a service, willya? Get outta here pretty damn quick!!”

Jet left without knowing where to go. As he came out of the bunker he saw Sam trying to get the cow dung off his claws. It was spreading out in all directions because it had melted in the sun, and Sam was a bit slow.

“Now it's melted, I ain't got a clue how to get it away from the entrance here”, he confided to Jet.

“Why don't you just leave it there, then?”, Jet said.

“Man, d'ya think I can do that?”

“Yeah, why not? Stud said to take it out of the bunker, and that's what you've just done, isn't it?”

“Man, ya so bang on. It ain't in the bunker, so it must be outta the bunker. Yeah, good thinking, I'm gonna leave it here”.

Jet went off and thought he'd see if he could find a nest to sleep in that night. He'd go looking for Gatwick very early next morning, Jet would be up with the larks. He would also get some worms then. Swiss ravens seemed to get up very early in the morning, long before English ravens, so Jet had to be quick off the mark.

In the meantime, Dazbog had taken the imitation big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, to his superiors. Then Dazbog began to tell the General what he'd done:

“General, I tooked box from cub I meeted in Grand Hotel near airport. He was with girl bear; she had suitcase full of money. I niever take suitcase with money because, you know, General, we don't need money. We got so mich money from population, we not know where to put more money: Ferrari, yacht, Grand Hotel, we got mich. I just taked box because I thinked would tell me you who they are”.

“Comrade”, the General answered. “I look, I look, just look now”.

Dazbog started untying the red rope with his beak. Then he ran his beak along the sticky tape, like you would with a pair of scissors. The box fell open.

“Vhat is this?” said Dazbog. “Paper, mich paper. Moment, moment, I read. Zis is all rubbich paper – crumbled little balls – I uncrumble them for you”.

So he took out all the balls of paper from the box and unfolded them, ironed them with his claws and then placed them in a pile on the General's desk. They started reading the documents. Not that interesting. Invoices for office supplies, for bird seed, etc. Until after about fifteen minutes, Dazbog stumbled on a report, which read:

TOP SECRET MISSION

To:        Regal Eagle, y'know where.

From:   Stud, Bunker, White Alp.

Ref.      SBMB/REYKW

Date:    11/8/0011

PLAN TO BLOW UP THE KREMLIN

INTRODUCTION

The other day you asked us to investigate the possibility of blowing up the Kremlin.

FINDINGS

We can now advise as follows:

• it is a big place with many rooms;
  

• we suspect that they have burglar alarms;
  

• we spoke to the caretaker who advised that, despite the extensive security, it would not be that difficult to place bombs around Red Square;
  

• observation and discussion with other members of staff confirmed that this was true.
  

PRACTICES

Staff leave early to go home and drink vodka (which is cheaper than water, they are also given drink vouchers by the state for three one-litre bottles each per week).

COSTS

The cost for the operation will be 30% higher than expected: $ 50 million, but we will have another increase in price. AW will provide the explosives. He will manufacture the bombs for us and detonate them when we ask him to.

CONCLUSIONS

It seems the best time to blow up the Kremlin is in the evening when the staff are home and drunk. We do not want to harm anyone. The aim of the attack is to send a clear message – we need to make an impact.

I would like a meeting with you to discuss the problem and to discuss possible improvement.

THE END

 

The General of the Red Vultures and Dazbog looked at each other and couldn't believe their luck: they had discovered the Eagles' plans to blow up their main government building.

“You will be award biggest medal we have. We will even make new one especially for you. Dazbog I niever think you are best in our secret service. We need send more troops round Kremlin, keep eyes open for enemy want to put bomb. And, we also poison dis Gatwick”.

It was early morning and Gatwick was woken up by the clanging of the chain attached to the key of his prison cell. A security guard came in with his breakfast: honey puffs with full-fat milk and coffee.

“Do you have salmon?”, Gatwick asked, very nicely.

“No, I'm afraid we don't, sir. It seemed a bit off and we didn't want to give you belly ache”, the guard joked.

“Oh, thank you. That's so nice of you. You know, at the Grand Hotel they gave us kippers as well”.

“Well, our customer care service is probably not as good as theirs. Anyway, enough messing around now. Eat up because the Chief Inspector will be here in a moment”.

Gatwick watched television while he had his breakfast. They weren't talking about criminals any more. There was a documentary about rooks. They were really horrible to each other, they called it
‘
war'.  One big rook  ordered some rooks to kill other rooks, even their own brothers and sisters. The TV cameras moved to another place. But there were more rooks there doing the same thing. There were images of rooks chopping other rooks in half using axes. Luckily, Gatwick had finished his breakfast by then so wasn't put off his food.

The Chief Inspector walked in. “Here we are, Gatwick, we'd like you to sign this confession”.

“OK, and then can I go?”, asked Gatwick.

“No, you can't go whether you sign it or not. It just makes life easier for me”.

Gatwick wanted to please the Inspector and make life easier for him. Though, he'd locked the door of his cell, and wouldn't let him go, the Inspector did treat him quite nicely. But, they had a long way to go before they could come anywhere near to the standard of the Grand Hotel.

“Right, here we go. Sign here, on the dotted line?”

Gatwick drew a muffin on the dotted line. The Inspector didn't look at the signature. It had taken Gatwick about ten minutes to draw that muffin with chocolate chips, and the Inspector had got fed up with waiting.

The Inspector told Gatwick that he was going to be questioned again and that the interview would be recorded:

“Anything you say may be taken as evidence and used against you”, he told Gatwick. Now, let's talk seriously. Where's your accomplice, your little sister?”

“Sorry, Inspector I can't tell you that”.

“OK, let's try another one. Where's the money?”

“The money? Why do you want to know that? It's mine”.

“Oh, it's like that, is it?”

“Of course, it is. I was the one who had to scratch and scratch with my wooden spoon to get it”.

“You mean to say that you got to the money using that wooden spoon!?”

“Yes, sir. That's right”, said Gatwick proudly.

“And your sister didn't help you?”

“No, but she was there. She rejoiced with me and has helped me spend some of it”.

“Where's the money now?”

“It's in her suitcase”.

“Finally, we're getting somewhere. What does the suitcase look like?”

“It's the latest model. It's a luxury Smartmite made of very tough ABS material. It's pink with silver trim and has two combination locks, which makes it the most secure suitcase ever made. When you open it, it plays
Knees Up Mother Brown
”.