[center]----------------------------------------------------------------------- June 6th, 1960, Salisbury, Rhodesia -----------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] "She did what!?" The Question came out as a roar as Byron Starr, Rhodesian Minister of Foreign Affairs, shot to his feet, regretting it almost immediately as his legs slammed into the edge of his desk, sending it crashing over onto its side. Papers, pens, mementos from his military career, and a half filled cup of coffee, went flying in every direction with it. "She shot them both." The men seated across from him, who had not moved even as the desk slammed into the floor a few inches from his toe, said with a thin smile. The eyes above the smile were cold as ice, a green beret neatly perched on his head, green fatigue uniform immaculate. "Sweet suffering christ!" Byron swore, staring down at the ruins of his desk. He heard the door open briefly and then close again as he secretary glanced inside to make sure everything was okay. "FUCK!" He shouted the word and upended his chair with one foot for good measure, the back of its crashing off the wall and bringing down the framed photo above it with a smash. The door opened and then closed again. "When?" Byron asked as he looked back at his visitor. Donald Prescott, Head of the Rhodesian Security Bureau, looked down at the book on his lap. Byron knew it was an act, the Thomas knew exactly what was written on the paper. "01:20 hours this morning. Security heard the first shot around that time. It took them two minutes to figure out where the shot came from which they only were able to ascertain at first because of the second shot." "You sure it was your Agent?" Byron asked as he leaned forward, hands on either side of a large globe he had next to his window. He wanted to smash the globe as well but the thing had been ridiculously expensive and taking out his anger on inanimate objects was not going to fix the problem at hand. "Quite certain. She confirmed it to our local field officer who is on site." Donald glanced down at his paper again. He was not happy either, but he would be damned if he was going to admit to a political flunky like Byron. The two men got on well enough outside of working hours but at work, well, the politicians had no idea what was being done to keep Rhodesia from drowning ina sea of black faces. "Fuck." Byron said the word again as he sighed and looked back to Donald. "There will no doubt be an investigation by the Ethiopians. We can't cover this up." "No, we can't." Donald replied as he crossed one leg over the other. "The men we have on the ground are running damage control, the local story is that Heaps and his wife were killed by a Communist sympathizer. Ethiopia is lousy with those right now." "And the Agent?" Byron asked. All he knew at that moment was that an RSB operative had decided to essentially murder the Heaps. The RSB was given a huge range of latitude and freedom to operate by the Government but killing off Rhodesian officials was a massive breach of protocol. Part of Byron had to admit he would have liked to kill Heaps himself, the sanctimonious bastard. "She is still in Ethiopia. Officially all the household staff have been detained by our security people until the investigation is completed." There was a pause. Donald knew he was treading on thin ice but Sara Reicker was hands down his best coloured female operative and he would need her again soon. "By the letter of her mission she did what she was instructed to do?" "Oh?" Byron's voice was dangerously quiet as he turned to look at the RSB Head. "Yes. We signed off on an order directing her to mitigate the damage Heaps could do to Rhodesian interests. And, to be perfectly frank, the man had no fucking use to anyone after he managed to shit the bed so fantastically in getting the African Union support on our side." Donald spat the words. Heaps had been an embarrassment to the Rhodesian Government for some time and only his connections to the old country assured him a prime job. Basically it had been Heaps in Ethiopia or the Rhodesian request for new Spitfires would get "lost" in the shuffle. "It actually works in our favour," He continued. "With the Communists to blame we are already working on a spin to place the blame on a Zambian National." He saw the interest flare in Byron's eyes and continued. "Our first RSB man on scene on was a quick thinker and, along with a couple of the Security men, "found" a man hiding in the bushes who was from the household staff. He was shot trying to escape and is known to have Communist ties." "What sort of ties?" Byron asked, shaking his head slightly. He had been a soldier once and did not want to know to much about the murky world of espionage. "The sort I made up an hour ago and sent off to an RSB Man who has by now planted it in the dead mans home." Donald smiled thinly again. Not a pleasant expression. "Damn you're good..." Byron muttered as he began to pace, hands clasped behind his back, oblivious to the papers being torn up beneath his boots. "We will need a new Ambassador of course." Donald continued. "And I would suggest a personal visit from yourself would make this seem all that much more sincere. Heaps was of course a valued Member of your staff." Byron barked a laugh, the first such sound he had made in an hour and he stopped his pacing. "Yes, valued. If I didn't know better I would throw a "he's dead at last" party. I suspect someone somewhere might suspect something if I did that." "Probably." Donald said drily as he stood from the disaster that surrounded his chair. "Will you be going to Ethiopia then?" "I have too, a valued colleague was just assassinated by a Zambian Communist!" Byron managed to look somewhat stricken though he could not prevent a shark toothed smile from crossing his broad face. "Your buddy Bennet is going to be thrilled by this." Donald nodded. Thomas Bennet, the Head of the Rhodesian Security Forces, had been spoiling for a fight since the Brush Wars and recent murders of white farmers in Zambia by mobs of blacks had gotten his back up. Now a Rhodesian Ambassador had been assassinated by a Zambian Communist, true or not, and Bennet would find a way to use the situation to his advantage.