Nemesis

By Sid Stephenson

The world evolves.
Billions are subjugated by the elite few, who cannot be legally deposed. As the planet rolls onwards to its nemesis, two groups will remain for the denouement, the elite few, and the assassins they contracted with, and in the end, only the assassins.

Stephen Parry, cold, remorseless Cumbrian, and Michael O’Leary, charismatic, literate Irishman, are professional assassins. Publicly denied, their profession is an essential component of world politics. Assassinations, commissioned by quietly spoken people in suits, are carried out with cool efficient detachment.

This changes however, when the assassins confront an apocalyptic horror, casually undertaken by the elite, which dramatically polarises their previous political disinterest. The consequences are world shattering.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798823087087

Sid Stephenson

Sid Stephenson is an Education/Aid pro, re-inventing as a screenwriter and author. Widely traveled, fascinated, and enthralled by West Texas culture, music, and history.

Book preview

© 2024 Sid Stephenson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  04/05/2024

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8709-4 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8710-0 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8708-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024906211

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Contents

The Author.

Other Books By Sid Stephenson:

Nemesis: Prologue.

Ext. Place De Hotel De Ville Square. The Stage. Paris. France. Late Afternoon

Ext. Place De Hotel De Ville Square. Central Paris. Late Afternoon.

Nemesis:

Ext. E17 Northbound Ghent To Antwerp Motorway. Belgium. Day

Int. Farmhouse Near Larne. Northern Ireland. Kitchen. Day

Int. Paris Interpol Hq. Insp. Jean Lafitte’s 2Nd Floor Office. Day.

Ext. Copeland Islands, Irish Sea Off The Coast Of Bangor, Ireland. 17 Miles Sth East Of Larne. Evening.

Int. Farmhouse Near Larne. Northern Ireland. Kitchen. Night

Ext. Central Paris. Morning

Ext. Interior Ministry Of France - Continuous

Int. Interior Ministry Of France - Continuous

Int. Interior Ministry Of France. Inner Office To The Salon Eds Ordnance - Continuous

Int. Ministry Of Europe And Foreign Affairs - Continuous

Ext. The Hoad Lighthouse, On A Promontory Overlooking The Town Of Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Day

Ext. Farmhouse Near Larne. Northern Ireland. Evening

Ext. Paris Street. France. Night.

Int. Paris. 1St Arrondissement Apartment. Night

Ext. Residential Street Of Terraces. Ulverston. Day.

Int. Kitchen, Larne Farmhouse. Northern Ireland. Day.

Int. Iris Kramer’s Kitchen. Ulverston. Day

Int. Kitchen. Larne Farmhouse. Evening

Int. Larne Farmhouse. Stiv’s Bedroom. Early Morning.

Ext. Caen Airport. France. Day

Int. Cctv Security Center. Caen Airport. Day

Int. Costa Bar. Caen Airport. Day

Ext. Cairnryan Ferry Port. Dumfries And Galloway. Scotland. Day

Int. Cctv Security Center. Caen Airport. Day

Ext. Killington Lake Services. M6 Southbound. Day.

Ext. A590 Westbound. Greenodd. Cumbria. Day

Ext. Morecambe Bay. Sinkhole. Day.

Ext. Paris. Lafitte’s Apartment. Evening

Ext. Paris. Lafitte’s Apartment. Morning

Int. Newby Bridge Hotel. Bar. Evening.

Int. Newby Bridge Hotel. Room 16. Evening.

Ext./Int. Paris. St. Thomas Aquiline Area. 117 Rue De Grenelle. Night.

Ext. Belfast Aldergrove Airport. Arrivals. Day.

Int. Larne Farmhouse Kitchen. Evening.

Int. Newby Bridge Hotel. Room 16. Morning

Ext. Main Roads From Hamburg To Puttgarten - Northern Germany. Day

Ext. Kristianssaed Forest. Denmark. Evening

Int. Dilapidated Building In Kristianssaed Forest. Denmark. Night

Ext. Cairnryan Ferry Port. Dumfries And Galloway. Day

Ext. Esbjerg Ferry Terminal. Denmark. Day

Ext. Larne Farm. Outer Corrals. Day.

Ext. Immingham Ferry Terminal, Hull. Day.

Ext. Stena Ferry Terminus. Belfast. Day

Ext. Cork Airport. Ireland. Day.

Int. O’leary’s Range Rover. Belfast Harbor. Day.

Sky News Report

Int. Global Economic Forum Conference. Davos, Switzerland. Day.

Int. World Capital Forum Conference (Wcf). Davos. Corridor Behind The Stage. Day.

Ext. Holyhead Ferry. Anglesey. North Wales. Irish Ferry Terminal. Day.

Ext. Wooded Hillside Overlooking Wide Remote Valley. County Clare. Ireland. Late Afternoon.

Ext. Wooded Hillside Overlooking Wide Remote Valley. County Clare. Ireland. Day.

Ext. Hillside Across Remote Valley From Farmhouse. County Clear. Ireland. Dawn.

Ext. County Clare Farmhouse. Early Morning.

Ext. Remote Hillside. 5 Miles South Of Laidlow Farm. County Clare. Afternoon.

Ext. County Clare Farmhouse. Morning.

Int. County Clare Farmhouse. Morning.

Ext. County Clare Farmhouse. Morning.

Int. Paris. France. Jean Lafitte’s Apartment. 0400Am. Night.

Ext. Laidlow Farmyard. County Clare. 0430Am

Int. Kitchen Area. Laidlow Farm. County Clare. 0930Am

Int. Kitchen Area. Laidlow Farm. County Clare. Night.

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm. Day

Ext. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Afternoon

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm. Night.

Int. Kitchen, Laidlow Farm. Early Morning.

Ext/Int. Chatou, Paris Suburb Apartment. France. Morning.

Ext. Chatou, Paris Suburb Street. France. Morning.

Ext./Int. Paris. St. Thomas Aqiuline Area. 117 Rue De Grenelle. Night.

Ext. Paris. Lafitte’s Apartment. Morning

Ext/Int. Chatou, Paris Suburb Apartment. France. Day.

Int. Prefecture De Police, 17Th District. Pathology Dept. Day

Int. Paris Interpol Hq. Insp. Jean Lafitte’s 2Nd Floor Office. Day.

Int. Kitchen, Laidlow Farm. County Clare. Ireland. Day.

Int. Kitchen, Laidlow Farm. Early Evening.

Int. 17Th District Police Headquarters. Porte Du Clichy. Paris. Day.

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm. County Clare Ireland. Day.

Int. Kitchen, Laidlow Farm. County Clare, Ireland. Night.

Int. Rear Of The Farmhouse. County Clear. Ireland. Night.

Ext./Int. Ministry Of France. Inner Office To The Salon Eds Ordnance

Int. Ministers Office. Day.

Int. Kitchen, Laidlow Farm. County Clare, Ireland. Morning.

Ext. Northbound M6 Motorway. North Of Manchester Airport. England. Day

Int. 17Th District Police Headquarters. Porte Du Clichy. Paris. Day.

Ext. Lancaster Rail Station Car Park. Lancashire. England. Day.

Int. Ministry Of European And Foreign Affairs. Paris. France. Inner Office To The Salon Eds Ordnance. Day.

Ext. Shannon International Airport. Ireland. Day

Int. 17Th District Police Headquarters. Porte Du Clichy. Paris. Day.

Overhead Camera Cctv Video. Fun-Fair. Tullierres Gardens. Paris. Early Evening.

Ext. Cumbria A590 Road Westbound Into Ulverston. Evening.

Int. Cafe De Flore Coffeehouse. Central Paris. France. Day.

Ext. Iris Kramer’s Street. Ulverston Cumbria. England. Day.

Int. Cafe De Flore Coffeehouse. Paris. France. Afternoon.

Int. Taxi Cab. Central Paris. France. Night.

Ext. Allotments Behind Iris Kramer’s House. Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Night.

Int. Iris Kramer’s House. Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Night.

Int. Iris Kramer’s House Cellar. Ulverston. Cumbria. Night.

Ext. The Sinkhole. Near Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Night.

Ext./Int. Paris. St. Thomas Aquiline Area. 117 Rue De Grenelle. France. Night.

Int. Josephine’s Quarters. St. Thomas Aquiline Area.

Ext. Premier Inn Hotel Carpark. Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Night.

Int. Josephine’s Quarters. St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Night.

Ext. The Sinkhole. Near Ulverston. Cumbria. Night.

Int. Paris. 117 Rue De Grenelle. Paris. France. A Back Room. Night.

Ext. 117 Rue De Grenelle. Paris. France. A Back Street. Night.

Ext./Int. Newby Bridge Hotel. A590 Near Ulverston. Cumbria. England. Night.

Ext. Cairnryan To Belfast Stena Line Ferry. Day.

Int. Paris Interpol Hq. Insp. Jean Lafitte’s 2Nd Floor Office. France. Day.

Int. Josephine’s Quarters. St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Night.

Ext. Minister’s Residence. Avenue Montagne. Paris. France. Night.

Ext. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Late Afternoon.

Int. Interior Ministry Of France. Inner Office To The Salon Eds Ordnance. Paris. France. Day.

Int. 17Th District Police Headquarters. Porte Du Clichy. Paris. France. Night.

Int. Interior Ministry Of France. Inner Office To The Salon Eds Ordnance. France. Late Afternoon.

Int. Brown Cafe. Rue Steinkerque, Montero. Paris. France. Day.

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Evening

Int. Kitchen. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Night.

Ext. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Night

Int. Underground Bunker. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Night.

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Night.

Int. Underground Bunker. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. Night.

Int. 3Rd Floor Apartment. 19Th Arrondissement Paris. France. Night.

Int. Global Economic Forum Hq. Near Cologne. Switzerland. Day.

Ext. Woods Near Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. First Light.

Ext. Laidlow Farm County Clare. Ireland. First Light.

Ext. Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Late Afternoon.

Ext. Ministry Of France. Elysee Palace. Paris. France. Day.

Int. Inner Office. Ministry Of France. Elysee Palace. Paris. Day.

Ext. The Convent Maria Ambrogio. 85 Miles South Of Paris. France, In Remote Woods. Dawn.

Int. 17Th District Police Headquarters. Porte Du Clichy. Paris. France. Morning.

Ext. Paris. France. Lafitte’s Apartment. Night

Int. Inner Office. Ministry Of France. Elysee Palace. Paris. France. Day.

Int. Suburban Hotel In Run-Down Area Of Paris. France. Night.

Ext. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Late Afternoon.

Int. Garden Room

Int. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Late Morning.

Ext. Auberge. St. Honore, Major Central Paris Streets. France. Day.

Ext. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. France. Late Afternoon.

Ext. Raleigh Devolve Cafe. Rue De Tivoli. Paris. France. Day.

Int. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Late Afternoon.

Ext. Beirut Airport. Lebanon. Day.

Int. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Night.

Ext. Raleigh Devolve Cafe. Rue De Tivoli. Paris. Day.

Int. Radisson Blue Hotel. Beirut City. Lebanon. Room 322. Day.

Int. Apartment In Run-Down Area In The Artists Quarter Of Paris. France. Night.

Ext. Ploujean Airport Located 2 Kilometers Northeast Of Morlaix. Brittany. France. Day.

Int. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Day.

Int. Farmhouse Bunker Below Barn.

Int. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Night.

Ext. Tarantass St. 2Nd Class Suburb. Detective Laurent’s House. Paris. France. Late Afternoon.

Ext. D1017 Road North Of Paris. Late Afternoon.

Int. Derelict Farm Barn Near Roray. 48 Miles North-East Of Paris. France. Night.

Int. The Convent Maria Ambrogio. 85 Miles South Of Paris. France. In Remote Woods. Early Morning.

Int. The Convent Maria Ambrogio. 85 Miles South Of Paris. France In Remote Woods. Early Morning.

Ext. N20 Northbound Towards Angerville. South Of Paris. France. Day.

Int. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Night.

Ext. N20 Service Area. Northbound Towards Angerville. South Of Paris. France. Afternoon.

Ext. Brush Country Near Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Day.

Ext. Church Of Pere Lachaise. Paris. France. Day.

Ext. D613 Motorway Near Lisieux. Brittany. Northern France. Day.

Int. Kitchen. Goren’s Farmhouse. Brittany. France. Day.

Int. Inner Office. Ministry Of France. Elysee Palace. Paris. France. Morning

Ext. Goren’s Farm. North Brittany. France. Day

Ext. Countryside Near Goren’s Farm. Brittany. France. Day.

Int. Kitchen. Goren’s Farmhouse. Northern Brittany. France. Night.

Int. Underground Bunker. Goren’s Farm. Brittany. France. Day.

Ext. 2Nd Floor Apartment In Fashionable Area Of Paris. France. Late Afternoon.

Int. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Paris. France. Late Afternoon.

Ext. Paris Peripherique Ring Road. France. Evening.

Ext. Par Porch De La Appellee, Off The Paris Peripherique. France. Evening

Ext. Highway Between Qatar And Abu Dhabi. Day.

Int. Ministry Of Europe And Foreign Affairs. Inner Office. Paris. France. Day.

Ext. The French Quarter. New Orleans. Louisiana Usa. Morning.

Ext. Colorado High Meadow Country. Usa. Morning.

Ext. Cancale. Northern Coast Of Brittany. France Day.

Ext. North North Breton Coast Road, Brittany. France. Day.

Ext. London Tube, District Line. London. Uk. Day.

Ext. Shoreditch High St. London. Uk. Day.

Ext. Street In Central Kuala Lumpur (Kl). Malaysia. Evening.

Ext. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Northern Coast Of Brittany. France. Day

Ext. Ceres Cso3 Satellite. Orbiting 250 Kilometers Above Northern France. Day.

Int. Goren Petrovich’s Remote Farm Brittany. Northern Coast Of France. Day

Int. Hilton Hotel Central Paris. France. Day.

Int. Hilton Hotel Reception Area. Central Paris. France. Day.

Int. Costa Coffee, Opposite The Hilton Hotel. Central Paris. France. Evening.

Int. France’s Directorate Of Military Intelligence. Day.

Ext. (Awacs). Off The North-West Coast Of Brittany. Day.

Ext. D767 Motorway South Of Lannion. Brittany France Afternoon.

Ext. Raleigh Devolve Cafe. Rue De Tivoli. Paris. Early Evening.

Ext. Paris Orly Airport. Day.

Int. Charles-Maurice’s Residence St. Thomas Aquiline Area. Night.

Int. Room 285. Radisson Blu Hotel. Paris. Afternoon.

Ext. Jug And Jazz. Ger Township. Manche. Normandy. Late Afternoon.

Int. Jug And Jazz, Lounge Bar. Night

Ext. The Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Day.

Int. Jug And Jazz Pub, Lounge Bar. Ger. Normandy. Night

Int. The Eagle’s Nest. Reception Area. Bavaria. Day.

Ext. La Passionne Restaurant. Rue Berg-Ere. Central Paris. Night.

Int. Madam Dene De Villepin’s Apartment. Paris. France. Night.

Ext. The Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Day.

Int. The Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Day.

Int. Room 110. Residential Suites Of Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Night.

Colette Du Blare’s Verbatim Warning To Charles-Maurice Via Alexei Smirnoff.

News Report.

Int. Jug And Jazz Pub, Lounge Bar. Normandy. France. Night

Ext. Berchtesgaden Town. Bavaria. Day.

Ext. Eagle’s Nest Access Road. First Tunnel Checkpoint. Bavaria. Day.

Int. Eagles Nest Reception Area. Bavaria. Day.

Int. Jug And Jazz Pub, Lounge Bar. Ger, Normandy. France. Morning.

Int. The Eagle’s Nest. Cpo Ops Center. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Int. Jug And Jazz Pub, Lounge Bar. Normandy. France. Night

Int. Conference Room. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Ext. A29 Amiens To Saint Quentin Motorway. France Day.

Int. Room 110. Residential Suites Of Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Night.

Int. The Eagle’s Nest. Cpo Ops Center. Bavaria. Night.

Int. Room 110. Residential Suites Of Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Night.

Int. The Eagle’s Nest. Cpo Ops Center. Bavaria. Night.

Int. Mary-Louise Kelly’s Room. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Night.

Ext. Esso Petrol Station. Berchtesgaden. Bavaria. Early Afternoon.

Ext. Small Cafe Opposite Salzburg Hotel Berchtesgaden. Bavaria. Early Afternoon.

Int. Room 110. Residential Suites Of Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Morning.

Int. Wade Remington’s Room. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Morning.

Int. Cpo Rest Area. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Midday.

Int. Reception Area. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Late Afternoon.

Ext. B Road Near Berchtesgaden. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Int. O’leary’s Room. Salzburg Hotel. Berchtesgaden. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Int. Room 110. Residential Suites Of Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Int. O’leary’s Room. Salzburg Hotel. Berchtesgaden. Bavaria. Morning.

Int. Cpo Ops-Center. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Late Morning.

Int. Reception Area. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Late Morning.

Int. Corridor Outside Mary-Louise Kelly’s Room Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Afternoon.

Int. Conference Room. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Evening

Ext. Balcony Overlooking The Vast Berchtesgaden Valley. Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Evening.

Ext. The Access Road To The Eagle’s Nest. Bavaria. Night.

Epilogue

Int. Jug And Jazz. Ger Township. Manche. Normandy. France. Night.

Breaking News:

The world evolves.

Billions are subjugated by few, and the few cannot be deposed by any legally recognized process.

Once you make a deal with an assassin, it’s forever, it’s a contract like no other on the planet. As the world rolls onward to its nemesis, only two groups of humans will be left, assassins and that infinitesimal few they contract with. And, in the end, only the assassins...

Michael O’Leary. February 2024.

Nemesis is a sequel to SINKHOLE. ISBN:978-6655-8763-1

Stephen Parry, cold, remorseless Cumbrian, and Michael O’Leary, charismatic, literate Irishman, are professional assassins. Publicly denied, their profession is an essential component in world politics which works outside the due process of law. Hits are directed by quietly spoken people in suits, and undertaken with cool efficient detachment, and with little regard for the political direction of travel.

This changes however, when the assassins confront an apocalyptic horror casually undertaken by their employers, which dramatically polarizes their previous political disinterest into world-shattering action and consequence.

NEMESIS: An opponent that cannot be overcome.

SCROVEL.

This book is written in the SCROVEL genre, and targets readers who love film. SCROVEL is an amalgamation of a screenplay and a novel. All introspective text is removed, leaving only LOCATION and CHARACTER DIALOGUE to tell the story.

IE: The characters are placed into the scene’s location, then they interact. After a few pages, the reader begins to play the SCROVEL movie in their heads.

Scenes replace chapters. Each scene has a headline descriptor and following text that describes INT. (Interior) EXT. (Exterior), when, where, how, who and time of day/night. Each scene is a story.

THE AUTHOR.

Sid Stephenson is a former academic and British Aid project manager, widely travelled. There are three integrated types of AID. (1) Save life. (2) Restore systems. (3) Educate and train. Sid’s skill focus was International Project Management in 2 and 3.

‘Give someone a fish and feed them for a day. Train them to fish and feed them for life’.

Sid lives in Criccieth, North Wales, with partner, Sarah, and two dogs, and does local voluntary work. Nemesis is his fourth book of fiction, and is a sequel to his first, Sinkhole.

Sid is the author, and owner of the intellectual property, of other academic works, including University of Cambridge’s master’s degree (MSc) in International Project Management.

I’m grateful to Ian Spindley, for his inspiration, reality-check, proofing, copy-edit, and vast reserves of positivity.

OTHER BOOKS BY SID STEPHENSON:

SINKHOLE: Two country-lads are drawn into international state-sponsored assassination.

NOTE: NEMESIS is a sequel to this book.

LANGTRY: An ill-fated manhunt through the Mexican High-Country exposes America’s transition into the Industrial Revolution.

BUNYIP: On a remote ranch in Australia’s Simpson Desert, a cattleman kills an unidentified creature which is slaughtering his cattle. Within hours, the story that a mythical BUNYIP has been shot, goes viral world-wide, with devastating consequences.

Non-Fiction:

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY; MSc: (Level 7) International Project Management master’s degree.

NEMESIS: PROLOGUE.

FIVE DAYS AGO.

EXT. PLACE DE HOTEL DE VILLE SQUARE. THE STAGE. PARIS. FRANCE. LATE AFTERNOON

The crowds are dense near to the stage, the rest of the square filling rapidly. There are thin blue lines of Police around the outer edges. Clusters of cameras are fenced into a barricaded off area, a technician taped microphones together, testing sound levels. Sporadic cheers as several celebrities appear on stage, they wave, everyone smiles the atmosphere is electric.

A Hollywood actress and star of NETFLIX’s ‘DAREDEVIL’ Rosario De Luca (29) took a position at the cluster of microphones...she tapped the microphones, the sound amplified massively like a series of explosions.

ROSARIO DE LUCA

(Arms outstretched, waiting)

Everyone, please... Thank you.

The crowd noise gradually subsided, intermittent flashes from cameras stark white, faces expectant.

ROSARIO DE LUCA (CONT’D)

(Smiling around)

Thank you, and thanks to all the people watching this from their homes. We have an exciting line-up for you today with nomination hopefuls from three political camps.

The crowd responded with surging levels of excitement and enthusiasm as if they were waiting to hear their favourite bands.

ROSARIO DE LUCA (CONT’D)

I know, I know...exciting!

(Smiling broadly around, waving)

She looked off stage, exchanged words with someone off camera, then turned back to the crowd...

ROSARIO DE LUCA (CONT’D)

(Shouting enthusiastically)

Yes, he is here, Jacques de Freyn is here everyone...

The crowd roared like a wild creature. Cameras swung to the edge of the stage, then swept back to the speaker. The camera zoomed back as Jacques de Freyn walked on stage from the left. He was animated and waved both arms, he walked quickly to the cluster of microphones and embraced Rosario De Luca as if he had known her for years. He took her hand and they both turned to the crowd with broad smiles, waving. More roars from the crowd.

ROSARIO DE LUCA (CONT’D)

(Arms outstretched)

Please everyone, Jacques is here, he’s not going anywhere, are you Jacques?

The crowd roared. Rosario took De Freyn’s hand and raised it high, they stood together wide legged, triumphant. Rosario dropped his hand, gestured encouragement to him, and backed away out of camera. De Freyn faced the crowd on his own, taking the adulation he waited for the roar to die away. Finally, after several beats...

M.DE FREYN

Thank you, my dear friends...

(Waits)

The crowd noise subsided, De Freyn waited, savouring the moment. After several beats there is silence.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

Today I announce my candidacy to run for for the Presidential elections of France.

The crowd roared, erupted into a frenzy, camera flashed and flickered. After several beats, De Freyn held up his hands for quiet.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

It is a candidacy like several others, victory is not assured. And I pledge today that if my candidacy is not successful, it will not diminish my total support for the person who wins.

(Hand to his breast)

Because I stand here today in this battlefield, just as I have stood in many other battlefields with a gun in my hand, for France.

The crowd roared, De Freyn faced around, nodding, his arms animated. Silence again.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

France is my mistress and my love. Saint Augustine, a saint of my church, wrote that A people was a multitude defined by the common objectives of their love. So, my friends, today, I stand with you, we have the same love, the same objectives.

The crowd went silent, rapt, the moment was electric. De Freyn paused, his head down, the silence is total. Slowly he raised his head, the camera zoomed in, streaks of tears were visible down his cheeks. He allowed the silence to extend. His face filled the huge TV screen on the side of the stage.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

(A break in his voice)

Not long ago, friends and colleagues died in hails of bullets in the Algerian desert. They were my people - French heroes. And it was my honour and my duty to put my own life on the line for them, to shed my own blood in the sand for them, and for France, and...

(A beat)

...for you, and your families, and the families they will have.

Another massive roar from the crowd. De Freyn wiped his hand across his face, smearing the tears. He waited, his face upwards to the wind, cameras flashed...

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

Some people say, because I was rewarded for these actions, that I should stand aside today, and consider myself lucky for the things that I have. That I should let others carry forward the banner of France.

The crown rippled, some people calling out. De Freyn waited.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

To those people I say this. Slaying the enemies of France and taking a bullet, was yesterday’s task. Now a new day has dawned, and I have new tasks.

(A beat)

Now it’s time to stand against the challenges of today. Now it’s time to press forward with speed and with urgency...

The crowd roared, applauds. Fell silent. Cameras zoomed, De Freyn’s face again filled the TV screens.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

Together, we have much to do, much to achieve in this winter of great peril, much to restore, much to heal...

He threw his arm outwards towards the Cathedral Notre Dame.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

(Nodding)

...and much to repair.

(A beat)

Overcoming these challenges and restoring the soul and the future of France will take much more than words, more than good intentions, it will take great courage, ingenuity, unity, and above all, great and enduring love for our beautiful country...

There was a gradually rising roar from the crowd, people pressed forward, De Freyn shouted his final word, arms outstretched in a crucifix...a Messiah.

M.DE FREYN (CONT’D)

France!

There was pandemonium. The police pressed against the sides of the heaving crowd. Camera flashes were almost continuous. Rosario De Luca ran from the side of the stage into camera and threw her arms around De Freyn. He staggered back, holding her tightly like a lover. Even other candidates at the back of stage waiting to speak, rose to their feet, and clapped in admiration, caught in the moment. The huge TV screen filled with De Freyn’s face, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

Paper bombs exploded; tinsel cascaded. Rosario De Luca led De Freyn forward. They emerged, holding hands tightly, from behind the microphones, they came to stand at the front of the stage, arms outstretched, she finally backed away from De Freyn, leaving him to stand alone in the centre of the stage, all cameras focused in tight.

AERIAL

Camera rises up, circling, showing the vast crowd, rises further showing central Paris, the arterial roads glittering with moving lights, the sun glowing deep orange, low in the western sky.

10 MINUTES LATER

EXT. PLACE DE HOTEL DE VILLE SQUARE. CENTRAL PARIS.

LATE AFTERNOON.

Jaques De Freyn stood with several others at the edge of a raised stage while technicians prepared microphones. Vast crowds surged towards the stage, jostling, press and TV strained for images and sound bites, security personnel were alert, watchful, speaking urgently into handsets.

De Freyn approached the microphones, smiling around, the crowd roared, cameras focused, he raised his arms wide with a rock star grin, his right hand punched the air with a triumphant fist.

The camera zoomed impossibly back above the crowd, finally showed Stiv in a narrow window He was crouched over a sniper’s rifle. He was focusing the telescopic sight onto De Freyn’s centre chest.

VIEW THROUGH SCOPE, CROSS-HAIRS CENTERING.

CLOSE UP

The camera tracked along a gun barrel; a finger clicked off the safety catch. The camera continued tracking along a metallic gun stock, finally stopped on Stiv’s face. He smiled beatifically, his head dipped down, his eye moved to the telescopic sight of the rifle.

SILENT CAMERA SHOT FROM ABOVE/BEHIND STEPHEN PARRY’S HUNCHED BACK

The vast crowd pulsed below. De Freyn stood out there in the distance. He was brightly lit in white, his arms outstretched wide in a crucifix pose.

LONG FADE TO BLACK

NEMESIS:

Present Day.

NEWS ARTICLE (SCROLLING WHITE TEXT ON BLACK - BECOMING RADIO VOICE-OVER)

THE DEATH OF M. JACQUES DE FREYN, FRANCE’S FOREIGN MINISTER, AND PRETENDER TO THE PRESIDENT’S ROLE IN THE ON-COMING NATIONAL ELECTIONS, IS SHOCKING. DE FREYN WAS SHOT DEAD BY A SNIPER’S SINGLE BULLET AS HE ADDRESSED AN ADORING CROWD IN CENTRAL PARIS IN THE RUN-UP HUSTINGS, FIVE DAYS AGO. THE ASSASSIN REMAINS AT LARGE.

THIS IS THE 10TH TIME A SENIOR POLITICIAN HAS BEEN KILLED OR ATTACKED IN THE PAST FIVE YEARS IN THE WIDER EUROPEAN UNION, BUT A FIRST FOR FRANCE AND THE MACRON ADMINISTRATION. EMMANUEL MACRON SAID YESTERDAY THAT JACQUES DE FREYN’S DEATH MARKED A BLEAK MOMENT FOR THE COUNTRY, AND THE WORLD’S POLITICAL STAGE WOULD BE POORER WITHOUT HIM. IN A DEMOCRACY, POLITICIANS MUST BE ACCOUNTABLE AND OPENLY ACCESSIBLE TO VOTERS. NO-ONE DESERVES TO BE KILLED WHILE UNDERTAKING THIS IMPORTANT TASK.

The scrolling text fades to show the dashboard of a car traveling at speed. The radio VOICE-OVER begins.

M. MACRON ADDED THAT THIS FRIGHTENING INCIDENT MUST NOW SPUR AN IMMEDIATE DEBATE ABOUT THE EMPATHY THAT LIBERAL DEMOCRACIES REQUIRE. THE FACTS LEADING TO M.DE FREYN’S DEATH ARE YET TO BE FULLY ESTABLISHED, BUT FOR ALL PUBLIC FIGURES AND ELECTED REPRESENTATIVES, DEATH THREAT IS A GRIM AND UNAVOIDABLE PART OF THE JOB. M.MACRON STATED THAT HE PERSONALLY WAS IN THE VANGUARD OF A RISING SENSE OF ANGER AND OUTRAGE. GRIM-FACED, HE ASSURED THAT THE ASSASSINS, AND THE FORCES BEHIND THEM, WILL BE HUNTED DOWN MERCILESSLY AND RELENTLESSLY, AND BROUGHT TO JUSTICE.

EXT. E17 NORTHBOUND GHENT TO ANTWERP MOTORWAY. BELGIUM. DAY

Stiv muted the radio, checked his mirror and moved to the slow lane, watching overhead signage as he entered the road tunnel under the River Scheldt, the E17 six-lanes giving way to the R1 8-lane into the City. Traffic was light and orderly as he passed under the flashing complex signage of a dozen underpasses, finally slowing, indicating and taking the left ramp to the Asiadok and then onto Noorderlaan, 250M, then swinging right into the Holiday Inn Express on Italianatestraat.

Parking nose-in near the lift, Stiv got out and stretched, looking around. Tall and fit, dressed casual military, he hefted a sports bag and silently rose three floors to the massive open reception area. Ignoring the expectant glance from the room-length black and grey reception desk, he dropped into a huge orange wing chair and leaned back, eyes closed, his senses searching the area for threat. After several beats, an immaculately dressed mid 40s, Latino male in Ray-Bans eased into a wing chair opposite.

ENRIQUE DADA

Excellent timing Stephen, as always

Stiv raised a finger, kept his eyes closed, a faint grin.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

(Murmuring, glancing around)

Greeting people with your eyes closed is maybe not the best survival strategy Stephen.

STIV

I smelled you, Enrique. Elysium Rojas Cologne. £300 per 100ml from Harrods. I knew you were here when I came out of the lift.

Stiv opened his eyes, his glance sweeping the reception area, finally resting coldly on Enrique’s tinted lens.

STIV (CONT’D)

Not the best survival strategy for you either. So,

(A beat)

How? When? Where?

Enrique Dada, CIA Fixer, watched the reception area for a moment, then leaned in.

ENRIQUE DADA

The Tessa-Rose. Jetty 14. Asiadok. 10 minutes’ walk from here.

(A beat, slight pique in his voice)

In your own time of course Stephen, but she sails tonight on the tide, with, or without you, on board.

Stiv leaned back, nodding. Enrique Dada waited a beat for a response, got none, then rose fluidly, shooting cuffs, checking his watch, waved away an approaching waiter. He paused, regarded Stiv, taking in black jeans, casual top, boots, sports bag.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

You are momentarily safe my friend, we will be in touch.

The two men held a cool glance, Stiv nodded faintly. Enrique Dada paused, his eyes distant, then as if he had made some sort of internal decision, spoke carefully and distinctly.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

Stephen, there is an issue I will touch on briefly. I have of course, engaged a more detailed discussion with Michael O’Leary and early plans are underway.

(A beat)

The news media has been alive with a major scandal lately where the highest ranks of society, including celebrities, scientists, politicians, major businesspeople, and even Presidents and members of Royal Families, have been traveling to and from a small island in the US Virgin Islands for what might be described as ‘beach parties and ENTERTAINMENT’.

At the centre of this is a very rich and influential protagonist and his highly connected lady friend, who is the daughter of powerful media family.

Stiv leaned back and waited, his eyes on Enrique’s.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

The protagonist and his lady have now been arrested and are awaiting some sort of trial in the Metropolitan Prison in New York. The world is holding its breath as to the form and content of this oncoming trial, the outcomes of this event threaten to reverberate around the globe, potentially bringing down governments and major decision-makers, and forever changing the international dynamic as we know it at the moment.

Dada paused, regarding Stiv through hooded eyes.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

Are we on the same page Stephen?

Stiv nodded minutely.

STIV

As far as I am aware, they are both in high security, and the male is a ‘suicide risk.’

(A beat)

Not easy to get to right now.

Enrique smiled thinly.

ENRIQUE DADA

We have had them both in an advanced stage of planning. The male protagonist is in fact, already ‘SUICIDED’ but that information is NOT yet in the public domain.

Enrique glanced around, then his eyes slid back to Stiv’s.

ENRIQUE DADA (CONT’D)

Michael is currently in New York with a colleague, but he will be back home when you return to Ireland.

Stiv leaned in towards Enrique, pupils dilating, suddenly serious.

STIV

(Musing)

So, Enrique, Michael took down Godfrey Epstrom... may I ask, with who?

Enrique paused, considering, then decided.

ENRIQUE DADA

We needed someone who had done ‘close work’ before. Your modus operandi to date has been distance-work.

We used Goren Petrovic. He and Michael were secreted into the Met Prison as guards.

(A beat)

We haven’t released this news to the media yet. The female has been compromised and is being held in a highly controlled situation. Her ‘suicide’ decision has not been taken yet, but some powerful lobbies are pushing hard for it, as you can imagine.

(A beat)

Eventually a significant number of well-known society and political figures may be called to trial by both the establishment and worse, the media. This cannot and will not happen.

Social media is currently alive with rumour, and in some cases even worse, photographs and video footage. Vast amounts of monies are already changing hands as the world-wide damage-limitation machine grinds into gear.

Stiv stirred in his chair, glancing around the room. Enrique followed his gaze, both men alert. Stiv’s cold eyes swung back to Dada.

STIV

You are placing me on stand-by Enrique?

Enrique, inscrutable behind Ray-Bans, nodded.

STIV (CONT’D)

(Gravely)

If being on ‘stand-by’ implies that I am in a holding position until you contact me again, that is not acceptable to me.

I will consider projects as and when you are prepared to move Enrique, and of course what targets are in the frame.

Enrique Dada, momentarily exasperated, took a breath as if to say more, thought better of it, picked up his black briefcase, glancing around, then without another word, moved swiftly and unobtrusively to the lift. The lift button glowed briefly, the doors slid back and closed. Enrique didn’t turn around.

Stiv scanned the reception area, hefted his sports bag, passed through the sliding door, and moving immediately to the side wall, he leaned, watched the street for several beats, then headed the 437 meters to the Asiadok Marina.

FADE TO BLACK

INT. FARMHOUSE NEAR LARNE. NORTHERN IRELAND. KITCHEN. DAY

Michael 0’Leary drained his mug and pushed it away with distaste. Rising from the long table, he went to the window and looked out onto the rain-swept farmyard as the wind intensified. Despite years of hard experience, he was still tense after the New York mission - he hated being inside prison walls.

Behind him the door opened and closed and in the rush of cooler air he felt Benny Laidlow’s energy force change the dynamic of the kitchen. He didn’t look around. Benny poured coffee from the pot on the AGA hob and sat at the table, pulling the day-old newspaper towards him. He drank.

BENNY

It went all right then, over there. How was Goren?

O’Leary grimaced, pushing away an involuntary chill.

MICHAEL O’LEARY

The job was easy Ben, it’s being inside the fucking walls that gets me - Goren was 100%, he’s solid.

(A beat, glancing up)

Stephen?

BENNY

He’s on his way. The RIB is ready Michael -

whenever.

O’Leary didn’t react. Benny leaned close into the paper reading without his glasses, then leaned back, exhaled, as if he had come to a conclusion.

BENNY (CONT’D)

(Bitterly)

You and me Michael, we used to have conversations once. I’ll be glad when Stiv is back - someone to talk to at least.

O’Leary turned quickly to face Benny, concern on his face, but Benny rose, turning away, his chair scraping noisily back on the stone floor. Benny didn’t meet his eyes.

BENNY (CONT’D)

(Hand raised, palm toward O’Leary)

I’m gone Michael, stuff to do.

The door slammed behind Benny, the kitchen returning to silence. O’Leary turned back to the window, watched him stride across the yard, still vital for all of his 74 years. O’Leary bit his lip.

MICHAEL O’LEARY

(Muttering to himself)

Sorry Ben... Fuck!

O’Leary’s phone pulsed, the vibration sending it sideways towards the edge of the table top. He took a step and caught it, listening.

MICHAEL O’LEARY (CONT’D)

OK, 2 hours.

O’Leary left the kitchen, shouldering into his jacket, leaning into the slanting rain. Across the yard Benny appeared, silhouetted, backlit in the barn doorway. He acknowledged O’Leary’s wave and ran towards him. The two men bundled into a battered white Transit van and left the farmyard at speed.

FADE TO BLACK

INT. PARIS INTERPOL HQ. INSP. JEAN LAFITTE’S 2ND FLOOR OFFICE. DAY.

The office was minimalist, glass along one side, several hundred meters away over the rooftops work continued on the renovating of the Notre Dame Cathedral. Inspector Jean Lafitte (57) reached across the polished surface for his buzzing phone.

INSPECTOR JEAN LAFITTE

Yes Antoinette.

(A beat, listening)

I’ll take it.

Lafitte pulled the side lever on his chair, easing it back into semi-recline, lifting perfectly manicured shoes onto the clear desktop.

INSPECTOR JEAN LAFITTE (CONT’D)

Lafitte.

(Listening)

Yes.

Lafitte hung up, then took another handset from his jacket pocket. It rang again immediately.

INSPECTOR JEAN LAFITTE (CONT’D)

OK.

(Listening several beats, then placating)

Enrique my friend, let it go, it is fine. We here, have maybe one more job, then he is retired, gone from our lives, unless of course you want to use him to help clear the fallout from the Godfrey Epstrom debacle.

(A beat, listening)

I know, Stephen can be abrasive and hard to deal with Enrique, make yourself a drink, or walk around Central Park maybe. If you are considering him for further hits, then perhaps you must speak to Michael directly to make your arrangements.

In any case, cut him out of the immediate communications. You should know that we will be terminating any future work for him in France.

(A beat)

OK.

Lafitte ended the call, idly watching the traffic assaulting the Faubourg St. Honor and the Avenue de Marigny crossroads as it swirled around the hips of the energetic policemen directing traffic theatrically from the centre of the square. Lafitte’s eyes blurred momentarily as his normally rigid self-control broke. With an outburst of breath he threw the burner handset violently across the room. It hit the edge of his walnut desk, shiny fragments cascading across stripped pine floorboards.

His office door opened, Antoinette standing white faced, a hand to her beautiful mouth, questioning. Lafitte, open palm upwards, spun his chair away from her startled eyes, embarrassed and angry with himself for the uncharacteristic loss of control.

FADE OUT

EXT. COPELAND ISLANDS, IRISH SEA OFF THE COAST OF BANGOR, IRELAND. 17 MILES STH EAST OF LARNE. EVENING.

Benny’s RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) nosed alongside the scarred flank of the Tessa Rose, both boats brightly lit in surrounding gloom, impossibly clashing together in violent squalls of rising seas and spray. Men shouted to each other across the heaving void as Stiv, braced against a doorway, tied Benny’s rope around himself, timing his running jump as both boats rose momentarily together. He landed heavily on the RIB deck as Benny hauled him unceremoniously across foaming deck-boards.

The two craft separated, soon out of each other’s sight. Stiv got up, untangling painfully from the rope.

STIV

(Shouting)

Good to see you Ben.

BENNY

Aye, and you too lad. Welcome home.

The RIB’s powerful motors roared, its bow lifting impossibly into the air from the top of a massive wave, then slammed down into the trough, awash, screws roaring, cavitating - engine screaming, then suddenly gripping and surging powerfully forward north west towards Larne, and home.

FADE OUT

LATER

INT. FARMHOUSE NEAR LARNE. NORTHERN IRELAND. KITCHEN. NIGHT

The kitchen was awash in orange lantern glow and dark shadow, waves of heat coming from the AGA. Three men sat along the long table. O’Leary watched Stiv eat voraciously, while Benny and he nursed mugs of steaming tea. O’Leary thought Stiv looked older and strangely remote since he last saw him when they had buried his beloved daughter, and Stiv’s great love, Georgie.

Benny watched both men, taking paternal pleasure in them, knowing in his soul that this momentary warm camaraderie could disappear without trace in an instant because of the volatile business they were all engaged in, and because of the massive irrevocable sense of loss they equally shared.

Stiv finished eating, his head down. He pushed back from the table not meeting anyone’s eyes, and without ceremony hunched outside into the storm, the door slamming. Benny glanced at O’Leary, neither speaking, both knowing where Stiv had gone, neither wanting to articulate it.

After a long time Stiv came back into the kitchen, wiping his rain-wet face on a tea towel. He poured more tea, looking questioning at the other two, teapot poised, they shook their heads. Stiv sat back down again, finally raising opaque eyes to the other two men.

STIV

Sorry lads, I had to check on Georgie you know.

MICHAEL O’LEARY

(Weary)

I know you did Stiv, she’s safe son.

Benny placed his mug down, regarding it intently, then fierce eyes on Stiv.

BENNY

And what about that other feller?

Stiv looked directly at Benny, his eyes dull with pain, but his voice was clear and steady.

STIV

Bob is dead Ben.

(A beat)

I killed him. He was once my best friend, but I killed him anyway, because he killed my Georgie.

(A beat)

He knew he was a dead man by my hand when he left here. He went to say goodbye to his folks, then he was going to come looking for me - to finish it.

(A beat)

He knew, we both did.

Stiv looked at both men, his eyes distant, his hands flat to the tabletop. O’Leary met his eyes, questioning.

MICHAEL O’LEARY

Any issues with the Frenchman Stephen?

Stiv moved in his seat, coming back into the present with a slight lurch. He looked critically at O’Leary.

STIV

None. To be honest I was surprised by the lack of security Michael. I was in and out with no challenges, it was a ‘gimme’ and it shouldn’t have been.

O’Leary held his gaze, waiting.

STIV (CONT’D)

We were used Michael, to be sure, or at least I was. I think it was all too easy. The French wanted him taken down.

(A beat)

I imagine they will step it up now that they have their fall-guys. Tidy up the loose ends.

O’Leary’s eyes dropped and slid away, as usual Stiv