Creative Writing: The Australian Capital Territory
The captain's voice was courteous and friendly as he read the imperative into his mic. “The Australian Capital Territory' requires all disembarking passengers to have their Australian Federation Cards ready for inspection. All passengers are required to submit to a fingerprint identification when passing through the border-guard inspection gates. We take this opportunity to welcome you to the sunny center of the nation, and we wish your stay with us be happy and secure.”
The woman in the stiff uniform pointed her finger at the carpet in front of the black and chrome panel.
Storm stepped into the red square and watched the bright pastel colors flash on the screen. Arrows pointed to the shape of two hands. He complied and saw the parameters …show more content…
snap down to the outline of his palm and fingers. Instinctively he turned his head to avoid the bright flickering scan lines streaming up into his eyes.
“Please keep your hand's still and do not move until the scan is complete and you are instructed to do so.”
He did as the electronic voice ordered, and the lights flashed again.
At the side of the booth stood a figure in a crisp white shirt and tailored charcoal pinstripe suit. He was not a tall man. He stood no more five feet high, but his short stature did not appear to lessen the assertion he showed in his body posture and tilt of his head. The cut of his suit showed off an athletic build. He could have been modeling for a photo shoot.
With fingertips on the shiny black leather belt in his trousers, shoulders bunched so his jacket rode up the back and sides his eyes never left Storm. Narrowed, flicking constantly over each and every move Storm made. The aggression in the man’s stare made him feel like a possum out of his tree and on the ground in front of a hungry Tasmanian Devil.
The electronic voice again.
‘The scan is complete. Please remove your hands.”
He waited for the officer to place his ID card on the counter in front of him, but he didn't. She was already looking past him at the next arrival in the line.
The man waived his ID card in the air then placed it in Storm’s hand. “Storm Elliot, if you could follow me,” the man said. The man’s voice was relaxed, almost friendly.
He followed the man in the suit in silence to the carpark. They stopped when they reached a new looking dark blue Commodore. The man turned then and introduced himself. “I’m Roy Davenport. There’s been a change of plans. You will be meeting with Mr. Boas.” He nodded his head at the opposite car door. “Hop in, mate.”
It was easy enough for Storm to convince himself everything was fine. The car was plush. Better even than Franchette's. There was nothing threatening about the man. If he was being kidnapped, it was not obvious. Storm refused the offered cigarette, but the gesture relaxed him a little more, and he wondered how Michael's colleague could wield such influence over national security staff at Canberra …show more content…
Airport.
The apex of the metal pyramid with the tall flagpole on top announced they were at Parliament House. The car continued down under the building and parked in a huge garage.
“This is where we're meeting?”
Davenport smiled thinly. “Been here before?”
“Shit no. Never thought I would either!”
“Welcome to wherein gather your elected leaders,” Davenport commented as he stepped from the car.
“Sorry?” Storm thought he heard him add, ‘and the unelected’ under his breath, but Davenport didn't repeat himself.
The shiny metal doors opened and a reporter with a digital recorder in his hand pursued a stout red-faced man in a pinstriped suit striding before him out of the elevator. The minister stopped and busied himself with the task of rearranging his shirt over his ample girth while he answered questions from the side of his mouth.
“Hey, isn’t that the minister of education or finance or something?”
He received a wink in reply.
Storm followed Davenport into the empty interior and watched as the man in the suit flicked a keycard over a lit metal ledge under the lift buttons.
An elderly man paused in front of the closing doors and coughed. He raised the cane in his hand as if to shove it between the doors.
Davenport looked ahead with a fixed bland stare as if he were looking at nothing in front of him but a wall.
The old man grunted and withdrew his cane, stepping back quickly as the doors came together.
The elevator dropped several floors at speed.
Davenport caught the look on his face. “You get used to it.”
“How many levels are we going down?”
“I can't tell you that.”
The lift came to a sudden stop.
“Seriously? You can't?”
Davenport gave a single nod of his head. “Seriously.”
They stopped in front of a tall door at the end of a high circular hallway that seemed no different to the interior of the elevator. Except for the hidden lights. A soft blue reflecting off the arching metallic ceiling in a way that made the metal itself look as though it glowed. The door slid open by itself and he found himself gazing into a room lit in a similar fashion to the corridor.
“Sit in the chair and wait. Mr. Boas shouldn't be more than a minute or two.”
“You aren't staying.”
“You want me to hold your hand?”
“No. I meant…”
“Go in and sit down.”
The room was larger than his first impression standing in the doorway. A large dark desk dominated the center, and behind it a tall opaque window in the wall. In front of the desk was a high-backed blue chair and beside it a small table. The door closed with a slight hiss and he was alone. He noticed the surface of the desk was contoured and more the shape of a console. A dull black, smooth surfaced mass. He sat down in the chair and
waited.
The woman in the stiff uniform pointed her finger at the carpet in front of the black and chrome panel.
Storm stepped into the red square and watched the bright pastel colors flash on the screen. Arrows pointed to the shape of two hands. He complied and saw the parameters …show more content…
snap down to the outline of his palm and fingers. Instinctively he turned his head to avoid the bright flickering scan lines streaming up into his eyes.
“Please keep your hand's still and do not move until the scan is complete and you are instructed to do so.”
He did as the electronic voice ordered, and the lights flashed again.
At the side of the booth stood a figure in a crisp white shirt and tailored charcoal pinstripe suit. He was not a tall man. He stood no more five feet high, but his short stature did not appear to lessen the assertion he showed in his body posture and tilt of his head. The cut of his suit showed off an athletic build. He could have been modeling for a photo shoot.
With fingertips on the shiny black leather belt in his trousers, shoulders bunched so his jacket rode up the back and sides his eyes never left Storm. Narrowed, flicking constantly over each and every move Storm made. The aggression in the man’s stare made him feel like a possum out of his tree and on the ground in front of a hungry Tasmanian Devil.
The electronic voice again.
‘The scan is complete. Please remove your hands.”
He waited for the officer to place his ID card on the counter in front of him, but he didn't. She was already looking past him at the next arrival in the line.
The man waived his ID card in the air then placed it in Storm’s hand. “Storm Elliot, if you could follow me,” the man said. The man’s voice was relaxed, almost friendly.
He followed the man in the suit in silence to the carpark. They stopped when they reached a new looking dark blue Commodore. The man turned then and introduced himself. “I’m Roy Davenport. There’s been a change of plans. You will be meeting with Mr. Boas.” He nodded his head at the opposite car door. “Hop in, mate.”
It was easy enough for Storm to convince himself everything was fine. The car was plush. Better even than Franchette's. There was nothing threatening about the man. If he was being kidnapped, it was not obvious. Storm refused the offered cigarette, but the gesture relaxed him a little more, and he wondered how Michael's colleague could wield such influence over national security staff at Canberra …show more content…
Airport.
The apex of the metal pyramid with the tall flagpole on top announced they were at Parliament House. The car continued down under the building and parked in a huge garage.
“This is where we're meeting?”
Davenport smiled thinly. “Been here before?”
“Shit no. Never thought I would either!”
“Welcome to wherein gather your elected leaders,” Davenport commented as he stepped from the car.
“Sorry?” Storm thought he heard him add, ‘and the unelected’ under his breath, but Davenport didn't repeat himself.
The shiny metal doors opened and a reporter with a digital recorder in his hand pursued a stout red-faced man in a pinstriped suit striding before him out of the elevator. The minister stopped and busied himself with the task of rearranging his shirt over his ample girth while he answered questions from the side of his mouth.
“Hey, isn’t that the minister of education or finance or something?”
He received a wink in reply.
Storm followed Davenport into the empty interior and watched as the man in the suit flicked a keycard over a lit metal ledge under the lift buttons.
An elderly man paused in front of the closing doors and coughed. He raised the cane in his hand as if to shove it between the doors.
Davenport looked ahead with a fixed bland stare as if he were looking at nothing in front of him but a wall.
The old man grunted and withdrew his cane, stepping back quickly as the doors came together.
The elevator dropped several floors at speed.
Davenport caught the look on his face. “You get used to it.”
“How many levels are we going down?”
“I can't tell you that.”
The lift came to a sudden stop.
“Seriously? You can't?”
Davenport gave a single nod of his head. “Seriously.”
They stopped in front of a tall door at the end of a high circular hallway that seemed no different to the interior of the elevator. Except for the hidden lights. A soft blue reflecting off the arching metallic ceiling in a way that made the metal itself look as though it glowed. The door slid open by itself and he found himself gazing into a room lit in a similar fashion to the corridor.
“Sit in the chair and wait. Mr. Boas shouldn't be more than a minute or two.”
“You aren't staying.”
“You want me to hold your hand?”
“No. I meant…”
“Go in and sit down.”
The room was larger than his first impression standing in the doorway. A large dark desk dominated the center, and behind it a tall opaque window in the wall. In front of the desk was a high-backed blue chair and beside it a small table. The door closed with a slight hiss and he was alone. He noticed the surface of the desk was contoured and more the shape of a console. A dull black, smooth surfaced mass. He sat down in the chair and
waited.