Watership Down The New World chapter 65

Chapter 65 The End is Only the Beginning

July 24th 2013, London

"Court is adjourned!" the judge announced, bringing the trial of the century to a close. The newly promoted Chief Inspector Charles Santon, accompanied by the recently knighted Sir Cole Drake, walked out of the High Court of Justice in London. Striding through the crowd of annoying reporters desperate for another story from the two key witnesses to the hottest scandal in British criminal history, and who had become celebrities overnight, the two men got into Drake's waiting limousine and were off.

It had been a little over six months since Alan's departure; or rather his supposed heroic death as it had been implanted in the public's minds. The trial for Red Hand's remaining faction members had followed; although the key leaders had all perished when their safehouse was destroyed, a great many minor members still remained at large undercover, or else had fled into hiding. The Secret Service and law enforcement had worked tirelessly for months, coordinated by Santon, to track them down and bring them to justice. Dozens of them were tracked down, deported back to the UK, and put on trial for espionage and terrorism: Bankers, lawyers, soldiers, scientists and numerous corrupt government officials were found guilty of aiding the Red Hand Brotherhood through abuse of office, embezzlement, bribery and murdering anyone who had tried to talk.

Dr Drake and Santon had both been summoned to testify, alongside a jury of witnesses who had lost friends and family to Red Hand, including the family of Neil Coyle and Mary's parents, among others. Only Sven Shertok had managed to evade capture, placing him on the top of Interpol's most wanted list. But that wasn't Drake and Santon's main concern.

Even after Red Hand had been defeated, various rumours surrounding Alan kept surfacing, questioning the circumstances surrounding his 'return from the dead.' So Drake had publicly announced that Alan's strange disappearance had been planned between the two of them from the start in a desperate attempt to throw Red Hand off their trail. His cover-up story had been so good in fact that a few publishers had approached him, offering a book deal.

Making himself comfortable on the sofa-like seat of Drake's new limo – another inherited acquisition from his late father –, Santon removed his hat and wiped his brow with a handkerchief, while Drake poured them cold drinks from the vehicle's icebox, "Good Heavens, all those damned reporters firing stupid questions without end! How celebrities can stand those nosy bastards invading their privacy at every turn, I'll never understand…"

"Well, thank God that's finally over," replied Drake, taking a sip of his own beverage, bringing his secret trustee back on track, "Now, what's the situation with regards to our personal matter Charles?" Ever since Alan and his friends had left, Santon had been carefully pulling the strings in every way he could, in a desperate effort to preserve the secrecy of the future. Fortunately, there were no unforeseen witnesses that had seen the lagomorphs, or knew anything about the future. But Red Hand's downfall being the work of one man who had apparently died twice had been impossible to cover up.

"The disappearance of Dr Johnson as well as the other people who vanished with him has been concluded as a series of elaborate murder schemes conducted by Red Hand, to retain their cover." Through Santon and Drake's carefully rehearsed testimonies, it had finally been implanted in the public's mind that Alan, Derek, Julio, McEwen and his crew had all been victims of Red Hand, having accidentally stumbled across the terrorist faction and silenced in elaborate 'accidents'.

The media had reported how Alan's plane had been hijacked by the assassin Robbins, who had killed the other two men, but accidentally causing structural damage and sending the plane into a crash landing. Alan had escaped from the wreckage and, realising he was being targeted, had fled into hiding. Robbins was reported killed in the crash. Major McEwen's chopper was reported shot down over the Forbidden Zone by Red Hand and the entire crew killed. In a desperate attempt to clear his name and prevent a mass terrorist strike, Alan had proceeded to take on Red Hand single-handedly, but had perished when their headquarters were destroyed. The aftermath had been an endless line of lawsuits towards the British government from the families of the victims.

On the bright side, as a result of his work on the case, Santon had been promoted to Chief Inspector, while Drake had received a knighthood from the Queen for his efforts to destroy his evil father, in addition to the vast fortune he'd inherited from his father, which would now be used to finance the League of the New World. Alan had 'posthumously' been awarded the George's Cross for his courage and ultimate sacrifice. The part of his story about his journey into the future was buried so deep no one would ever know about it, with the exception of Dr Drake, his family, and Inspector Santon.

Black Inferno had left Earth's orbit in the weeks following its launch and drifted away into deep space. The only surviving relic of the Red Hand Brotherhood was expected to float dead in space until the end of time. The remaining two cores were salvaged from the ruins of Buxton Hall and taken to government labs around the world, to be dismantled and studied by military scientists. The case was finally closed.

"All evidence that can reveal the secret of the future has either been destroyed or is safely in our possession," concluded Santon, fingering a flash-stick containing a copy of the HAB's video log of the original timeline around his neck, which Derek Shaw had recorded into his phone. Sven Shertok, he knew, was still out there somewhere, probably waiting for the right moment to make a comeback, and when he did Santon would be ready to thwart him. The future was finally safe.

The two men drove away, triumphant and content, yet completely unaware of a few more loose ends that had been completely overlooked…

Miles away, in the village of Whitchurch, several Council workmen were busy clearing away the charred rubble of Hotdog's demolished inn. The police had investigated the explosion and concluded it had been the result of the meth-lab the smuggler had on his premises going up in flames. No one had been able to explain the disappearance of Hotdog, who would be returning straight to prison if he was able found for violating the terms of his parole.

As one worker lifted an armful of junk to load onto the truck, a battered book suddenly fell out. The worker, curious, bent down and picked up Alan's lost copy of Watership Down. The book was all battered and crumpled, with a scorch mark on the edge of the cover, but otherwise intact, having survived the explosion. The man flipped through the pages and frowned at all the scribbled notes Alan had made. Oblivious to their importance, he hurryingly pocketed the book along with several other pickings he'd found before the foreman could notice, and got back to work. If he could sell this stuff, he might treat himself to a few extra pints of larger down at the local pub. The book would find itself gathering dust on a shelf in a second-hand bookshop, passing from owner to owner, until someone could decipher the secret of Alan's notes…

Elsewhere, in the burnt-out ruins of Buxton Hall, down in the secret armoury, now long since cleared out by the military, was the armoured briefcase Sven had left behind, containing the collection of interrogation tapes and blood samples Samir had collected from Hazel and Hawkbit. Hidden inside a hole in the wall and concealed by some stones, that little biological sample of the future world sat silent, waiting to be discovered.

A lone figure, his face hidden under a hood and wearing gloves, as not to leave any fingerprints behind, had emerged from the secret passage, from where he'd broken in, undetected by the security force posted to guard the ruined safehouse. Searching about, the beam of light from his flashlight finally fell upon the loose stones covering up the hole. Pulling them out, he grabbed the briefcase. This trusted agent had been sent along by some unknown third party, rather than Sven Shertok, to recover the prize.

Not wasting time picking the locked briefcase to check whether its contents were still there, the figure turned and left as silently as he had come, disappearing with Shertok's precious briefcase, now fallen in someone else's hands...

In a secret hideout abroad, far away from England, Sven Shertok lay recuperating from the loss of his hand, awaiting the arrival of a prosthetic he had ordered made for him. In spite of his injury that would burden him for the rest of his life, including writing or even tying his shoelaces, not to mention having lost everything he had worked for, the fugitive terrorist was still far from ruined.

On the rickety desk before him was a cassette player with the tape containing Robbins' recording of his late colleague's escapades in the future. Like Drake and Santon, Shertok had embarked on his own little secret mission for the future he knew was coming. Someday his ruin and subsequent exile Johnson had doomed him to would be avenged…