The three boys and Jackson met the prime minister the next day at his private country estate . Known as Knowles House, it stood just outside Canterbury in Kent. Ted had arranged Knowles House for the meeting because it was more private than the more formal Chequers. The PM now spent most of his time away from London at Chequers where security was tight. Knowles House had been in his family for generations, but now it received the PM and his party only occasionally and usually for business that was very private and out of the spotlight of the press.
Ted had had no problem getting permission to be away from Harrow, and after hearing Jackson’s and Jan’s tale as related mostly by Jan, he’d arranged for his father to meet with them there.
The house awed Jan and Jackson. It was huge, as were the grounds. Covering several acres, it had gardens and orchards and a pond with a fountain. There was a maze constructed of yew hedges. The house itself was breathtaking from first view—from the three high towers gracing the rooftops of the main building and the two wings, to the fancy brickwork, the pediments and columns and features Jackson had no names for. Ted had told them the house had been built in the eighteenth century and that the upkeep would break the budget of a small country. He said they ran tours to help pay for the cost of running the estate.
Prime Minister Malcom Commoder was not what Jackson was expecting. He was only in his late 40s, and rather than the gruff appearance shown in news videos, he was congenial and welcoming. He was already going gray but still had a full head of hair. He was a bit paunchy and less than six feet tall, but he carried an air of power about him.
The mansion had more rooms than Jackson could imagine, but the sitting room where they were taken, a room in a private part of one of the wings of the house not open to the public, was cozy. Jackson and Jan were seated on a small couch, Ted and Tyler on another facing theirs, and the Prime Minister took an upholstered easy chair at between the ends of the couches. He’d divested himself of his suit jacket and loosened his tie but hadn’t changed into leisure clothing. If he’d wanted to provide a relaxed touch to the meeting, he hadn’t succeeded. Jackson, Jan and Tyler were all nervous.
“Ted’s told me about your adventures,” the man said, speaking to Jackson and Jan. “What you’ve experienced is almost unbelievable, and I’d think it had been, except that I checked out your story about the killing of all those people on the boat coming to Denmark and learned it did happen. The Danish authorities want very much to talk to anyone who knows anything about it. They’re very interested in learning the whereabouts of the ship’s boy. He seems to be missing, and whether he’s dead, whether he was involved, whether he was taken hostage, they have no knowledge whatsoever and only guesses.”
He smiled at them. “This country won’t get involved in this. Great Britain had nothing to do with what happened.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jan said. Jackson, feeling very unsure of anything, remained quiet.
“Now, what I do want to talk about is the document you’re carrying—uh, may I call you Jackson? Mr. Broke is both ambiguous and unnecessary as we’re all informal here. I’d rather you called me Mr. Commoder if you need to use a name at all. I’m not going to be fulfilling the role of prime minister with you today. That isn’t the position I want to be speaking from at the moment. This will never be noted as a meeting between the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and an official courier from the U.S.”
The Prime Minister was looking at Jackson, and his gravitas was on full display with that statement. Jackson froze until Jan gave him a sharp elbow.
“Oh, yes, of course, sir,” he stuttered, then blushed.
“Good. Then, Jackson, you have a document for the Prime Minister that seems to have caused a lot of problems. Could you let me see it? Yes, I’m not acting as a prime minister here, but you might see your way to letting me have a glance at the document in any case.”
Jackson stood up, now more nervous than before. “I have it here. Can you excuse me while I take off my shirt?”
He didn’t know proper protocol or etiquette in this situation, but it seemed totally inappropriate to strip off any of his clothing, even his shirt, in the presence of a prime minister. When Mr. Commoder nodded, Jackson left the room, then he bared himself from the waist up. He had a large envelope sealed in a plastic Ziploc pouch taped to his chest. He grimaced while removing the tape, redressed, and came back into the sitting room. He handed the package to the Prime Minister, blushed again, and sat down.
The Prime Minister took his time opening the pouch and envelope and removing four sheets of paper. He put on a pair of reading glasses, then perused the paper. He took his time doing so.
The boys sat quietly, watching him and waiting. Three of them watched him; the fourth, Jan, found himself unable to take his eyes off Tyler. He’d never felt what he was feeling in this boy’s presence. He’d never given a thought to his sexuality, so it took him by surprise to be overcome with such giddiness just looking at Tyler. He knew he shouldn’t be staring, but he couldn’t contain himself.
Tyler noticed. He couldn’t help but notice. He looked away, then back at Jan, and this time he smiled before averting his eyes.
The Prime Minister was finally done. He refolded the papers and slipped them back into the envelope, which he laid on an end table next to him. “Well,” he said.
Always the impetuous, impatient one, Jan responded. “Well?”
Mr. Commoder gave him a quick look, then said, “I guess you deserve an explanation; you almost paid for this with your lives. I doubt that was the intention when you were given this assignment, Jackson. I doubt your government is that callous. Anyway, I can only suggest what is going on. But understanding affairs of state, my guess may be fairly accurate.”
After a pause to gather his thoughts, he began. “What I’ve just read is garbage. But considered and directed garbage. It’s what we call misinformation. And it isn’t meant for me. If it’s meant for anyone, which it very well might not be, it certainly isn’t the prime minister of the UK.
“You were told the content of this document was agreed upon in a meeting between your State Department and our equivalent, and both your President and I were to sign it. The fact is, such a meeting and agreement are fictions. None of that happened. No discussions of anything stated in this document were conducted. This is a total chimera.”
“A what?” Jan asked, interrupting.
Mr. Commoder grinned. “Sorry. It’s a fake. Made up nonsense. Or, as I said, misinformation. If that’s what it is, it’s misdirection created to cause confusion and who knows what else—or why. But I’m not sure that’s what it is. I have the feeling that what I’ve just read was something that might have been added to something else and wasn’t the main purpose of this being sent to me.”
He paused again, and Jan again spoke. He obviously was not impressed, not as awed as Jackson was with being with as important a man as Mr. Commoder. “And what was that main purpose?”
“I’ll get to that. First, let me tell you, Jackson, that if your government was sending me a document to sign, no matter how high the classification was, it would be delivered in a diplomatic pouch. Not by a courier. You were probably told that this was very secret and had to be delivered with no one aware of its existence. That is exactly what the pouch is for. A courier can run into all sorts of situations; the diplomatic pouch goes back and forth all the time, well guarded and never with a misstep. It’s secure and private. That’s how we handle classified documents. Never with a courier.
“You had no way of knowing that because you’re new to the job. That’s almost certainly why you were picked. You’d believe what you were told. A more experienced courier would have had questions and second thoughts. You didn’t.
“The Prime Minister, if I can refer to myself in the third person, was not told to expect a courier carrying a classified document. Jackson, my belief is that you were never supposed to reach me. That you did shows how best-laid plans often go askew, to misquote Rabbie Burns. I can only guess what this is all about, but that guess is, you were given this assignment to determine the loyalty of one or maybe several people who were in the loop, that is, who knew what you were being asked to do.
“As I said, I doubt your government would be so callous as to throw you to the wolves. There most likely was someone watching you. I’m afraid he was one of those men that were left dead on that boat.
“What probably was to occur was that the watcher was to catch whomever tried to get that document from you, and with his interrogation, the entire plot would have been uncovered. The fact the Prime Minister was not informed a courier was coming to meet with him makes this the likely situation.
“Now our question is, where do we go from here? I don’t think you, Jackson, or you, Jan, are safe. The conspirators would like you dead and gone, all traces of this erased. What would help prevent that would be for you to go public with what happened, but what I think I must do first is find out if your President is aware of this situation. If he is, then I need to let him handle what happens now or coordinate what the two countries do. This is a U.S. action more than a British one. Which is why I don’t want to complicate it with the Prime Minister being at all involved.”
He stopped for a moment, considering.
“So what I’m going to do,” he resumed, “is call your President and find out what’s what without anyone in Whitehall being aware of the call. Making that call is a bit dicey with the protocols we have in place. But that’s for me to worry about, not you. What I want for you is to remain here as my guests. Incognito guests. To make that plausible, Ted will be your host here, and I’ve notified Harrow that he and Tyler will be away for a short period. Probably only for a day or two. These sorts of things can be handled expeditiously. But that’s how I intend to play this. Do you agree?”
Jackson was still looking bewildered, and Jan nudged him again.
“Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You’ll let us know when this is over? We can leave then?”
Mr. Commoder smiled. “Of course. I’ll leave you now. Ted will act on my behalf.” He stood, and the others rose as well. He shook hands with Jackson, slapped Ted, Tyler and Jan on the back and turned for the door.
“Uh, sir?” Jackson still appeared uncertain. “The document? You’re taking it, aren’t you?”
“Eventually. I think for the moment it’s safer here with you. No one knows you’re here, no one knows you have the document, and on the very slim chance they did know that, they would probably expect that I took it with me when I left here.
“There is minimal security here when I’m elsewhere. The front gatekeeper is well-trained and armed, and both the house manager and the gardener serve in that capacity as well.
“No, you keep it, but just be sure it remains safe. I wouldn’t want anyone to see it before I talk to the President. There’s something going on here that I don’t understand, but it seems that document is a hot potato, and I don’t want to burn my fingers on it. You keep it until the President and I have put some sunlight on the matter.”
He smiled at them, then left.
Ted looked at the three others. “I guess I’m in charge here.” He grinned. “Well, my house, so my party. I can start by showing you around and telling you a little about this place.”
> ( <
“Mr. President, I have the PM for you on your secure line.”
“Thank you, Grace.”
The President of the United States picked up his desk phone and pressed one of several buttons. He always enjoyed speaking to the UK’s Prime Minister. They had a secure line and could be open with each other. The two men liked each other and were mutually respectful.
“Mal,” the President said after dispensing with opening pleasantries, “I need to see that document our courier showed you. I don’t know anything about this. This suggests we have a problem here, and I don’t know how far-reaching it may be. Having the document should allow us to do some analytic work. Can you send me the document in the pouch? And an email copy of it right away so our analysis can begin immediately? That would be helpful.”
“I don’t have the document, Richard. I saw it was nonsense, a fake. I don’t know its origins and didn’t want to have anything to do with it. I left it with the courier. I can get it, but of course it’s late here. If it isn’t a matter of urgent state security, how about tomorrow morning?” I don’t really want to wake up the whole household where the document is at the moment just for the very few hours’ difference you’d gain by having it in your possession immediately.”
“No, that’s fine, Mal. That’ll be fine. And, just a question: have you looked at the possibility that you have the same problem in your backyard that we might have here?”
“I’m starting a quiet investigation. The fact this group, assuming it’s a group, was active in Denmark makes it possible this is more widespread than we thought. But I don’t really think we have a serious problem here.”
“Okay. I’ve got another call holding, so I’ll let you go. Good luck.”
“And to you, too, Richard. You, too.”
> ( <
A few streets away, across the river and in the basement of a tavern on Belvedere Road, a man took off his headset, smiled, and picked up his phone.
> ( <
Ted watched as the other two boys spoke to each other. They were in the sitting room where they’d met the Prime Minister, returning there after an abbreviated tour of the house.
Jackson was reading the document he’d carried from Washington to England. Ted approached and sat down next to him.
“Tyler wanted me to ask you something.”
Jackson looked up at him. “Why doesn’t he ask me himself?”
“He says he doesn’t know you. He wasn’t sure what you’d say.”
“He’s right, we don’t know each other well, but that’s not strange. There’s the age difference, and we have much different personalities. Then, I was away at college and afterwards got the job in Washington.”
Ted nodded. “Yeah, he say’s you’re a spy.”
Jackson jerked his head back. “I’m not a spy! I’m a courier.”
“That’s what I’d expect you to say. That’s the cover they gave you, huh? Doesn’t matter to me.” He grinned. “Anyway, this is what I’m supposed to ask you . . . Well, first, before that, you do know he’s gay, don’t you?”
“Gay? Tyler? No, I didn’t know. He is?”
“Yeah, gay and out. No one cares at Harrow. Well, no one cares, but there are rules. No sexual activity with any other boys. Do that and you’re out on your ear. I guess some boys do things together, especially if they’re gay and have an accommodating roommate. I’m straight, so nothing’s gone on between us. He’s told me he’s never done anything gay with anyone, but he’s ready and willing. And that brings me to what I’m supposed to ask you.”
“What?”
Ted sat up a little straighter while figuring out his words. Then, “He wants to know what your relationship with Jan is. He wants to get together with Jan but not if you’re with him.”
“I’m not gay!” Jackson said with some exasperation, as though the conversation they were having irked him, then immediately softened his tone. “Uh, I didn’t mean to react like that. I’m straight, and I don’t really care that Tyler is gay, though it’s a bit of a shock. But I didn’t know, don’t know, that Jan is gay, either. When we were talking, somehow I got the impression he wasn’t that interested in sex and hadn’t had any experiences.”
“That’s perfect then, if you don’t mind them being together, because Tyler’s in the same boat.”
“And he wants my permission?”
“No, no. Not permission. Just . . . he didn’t want to go ahead if you’ve hooked up with Jan, you know, like you were boyfriends. But you aren’t, so it’s up to Jan to decide. But if you’ve watched them at all, you’ll know that Jan is gaga over Tyler. It’s obvious. So, unless you object for some reason, I’ll tell Tyler he’s free to do what he wants. I’d guess one of the rooms they were assigned will be empty tonight.” He grinned and then sighed. “I wish I were that lucky.”
Jackson was exhausted and ready for bed. The four boys went up together, Jackson leading the way. At the top of the stairs, he noted that Ted was speaking privately to Tyler, and Tyler’s face was almost splitting with the grin he was wearing.
Then he saw Tyler approach Jan, and the two walked together into the room that was Tyler’s. He watched that happen and then tried to analyze how he felt. He was a little surprised to realize he was happy for Tyler and shared a little of Ted’s envy for that happiness. He’d had a little sexual success while at college, but his whole life’s training had been to excel academically; he’d intentionally pushed his own gratifications off, figuring that could come when he was out of school and no longer under his father’s thumb.
Tired as he was, Jackson had thought he’d fall asleep immediately; instead, he found his head full of aggravating thoughts.
He’d always done everything he’d been told to do, even though he realized he was smart, perhaps as smart as his brother. He’d never used his intelligence for anything creative, for anything he himself wanted. His life had been spent trying futilely to please his father and then others as well. He’d been taught this was the way to survive and prosper.
Now, he realized it was because of his compliance, his lack of ego, lack of self, that he had come close to being killed. He now saw how compliance, giving of himself to the will of others, could be disastrous.
Was he happy? No, he definitely wasn’t. He’d thought happiness wasn’t something to work for. He’d be content if he followed the path that had been laid out for him. But now, thinking of how things were for him, he realized contentment wasn’t happiness, and that continuing as he was, he never would be happy.
It was suddenly clear to him. It felt like an epiphany: he had to take charge of his life, and he needed to do it now. No more Mr. Nice Guy, doing what he was asked to do with no thought about consequences. Thinking about why he was now here in England, he realized with shocking clarity he’d been chosen for this assignment because of how he was seen by others. They knew he’d do exactly what he was told to do, and that was what they wanted. They didn’t want someone who would wander off on his own. They wanted a slave to duty. And here he was.
No more. He was going to change, and it would start immediately. He’d weigh his circumstances; he’d decide what was best for himself and what was needed, and from here on forward, that’s how he would live his life.
He did fall asleep then, but it was as a different, a newly born Jackson who slept, and when he woke in the morning, the resolve was still strong in him. The old Jackson was no more, and the new, improved model was ready to face the world.