With some trouble, Ethan and Troy managed to carry their goods to the basket. It was controlled remotely and floated above the ground next to the two chefs. Ethan's stomach grumbled, demanding it be fed. All he had for breakfast was a cup of coffee which wouldn't last him more than a few hours.
"You want to grab something from there?" Ethan asked pointing to the fish restaurant in front of them. "I know the owner."
"Do you know everyone?" Troy asked as he walked up the steps and stood in front of the entrance of the restaurant.
"You'll be surprised how closely-knit the fishing community is. Even when I was at my lowest, I still felt like I needed to come in occasionally and reconnect."
The restaurant was easily the largest at the docks. A wide blue banner spanned above the restaurant. It read 'Jeff's Hook' in bright red letters. The entrance led to a floor populated by chairs and tables. The best part about the restaurant was the floor itself. It was made from short, artificial coral to make the entire restaurant look like it was placed at the ocean bed.
Ethan heard the sizzling of pans from the kitchen and the roaring of extractor fans. Most of the noise was drowned by the chatter of the customers and the commentary of the football match in the background.
A thin man walked up to the two. "Hi! How are you? Good to see you again Ethan," he greeted shaking their hands so firmly, Ethan thoughts his arm might wiggle off its socket.
"Pleased to meet you, Jeff," replied Troy.
"How did you know my name was Jeff?" he asked.
Troy looked up at the signboard, then at the name tag on the owner's shirt. "Eh, just a hunch."
"Yes, yes, yes… A good hunch indeed. Please take a seat. Anywhere you'd like and our waiters will be with you in a moment."
Troy and Ethan sat down in a corner and received their menus. After some time, a waiter came to take their order.
"Ethan? The usual?" asked the waiter.
"Yes please."
"And for you sir?" he asked.
"Tilapia, grilled and a still water, please," replied Troy.
The waiter scurried off to the kitchen and placed the order at the entrance of the kitchen.
"It's good to be on the other side of the kitchen for a change, am I right?" asked Ethan.
"Depends on if the chef is compet—"
Suddenly, the audio from the football game cut and the TV screen displayed the emblem of the FSP. A broadcast of the president in his office with a grim expression on his face appeared. The camera zoomed in on his face as his cold eyes stared into the lens.
"Good morning, South Africa. This is an international announcement that should be broadcasted on every channel of every television and radio," he began. "Our rainbow nation has suffered a great loss today. Just moments ago, before the preparations for the summit began, twenty members of parliament in the FSP were killed in a teleporting accident."
That's over a third of their members! Ethan thought. And teleporting accidents haven't happened in over two decades.
A wave of gasps flowed through the restaurant and more people from the docks flocked to the television. Many people covered their mouths with the palm of their hands in shock as a censored version of the corpses were displayed for all to see.
"The FSP suspect sabotage and are committed to finding the culprit of the offenders. If these terrorists are watching this broadcast now, know that this is an act of war on the Republic of South Africa and that each one of you will face the full force of the law," he continued.
"Due to this tragic incident, the summit shall be delayed to carry out a funeral for our fallen South Africans and all police activities will be focused towards finding the culprits and executing them."
Ethan and Troy looked at each other in concern. Never had an execution taken place in South Africa since the early stages of the war. Some chatter arose after Duncan's bold statement.
"We, as a ruling party, do not trivialize the murder of political figures by awarding the culprits a lenient punishment of life imprisonment. Let this statement be an example to all those who resort to violent, and terror-inducing means to further their cause. Let this statement serve to cut off the disorder before it spirals beyond the control of the FS—, government."
Troy raised an eyebrow, looking up from the blank table. Ethan glanced at him briefly before turning his attention back to the screen.
"As a precautionary measure, all appearances of FSP figures will be backed by armed guards and watchers. Please do not be alarmed if security is tightened for these circumstances. There is no reason for concern. This is merely a warning to those who wish ill for this blessed country and an assurance to the rest that their lives, well-being and security is in capable hands.
"Thank you for your patience and stay safe and secure. One nation, one leader, free society, free people. Good day!"
The TV broadcast cut, and the football match continued to play on the channel. The people began to gradually return to their seats and resume their late breakfast. Within minutes, people acted as if nothing had happened.
Troy was seemingly unsettled. He immediately stood up from his seat. "I'm sorry. I have to go."
"Where? And your food?"
Ignoring Ethan, Troy rushed out of the restaurant and took a brisk walk out the harbor. Ethan dropped his gaze to Troy's seat. He had left his jacket, wallet and link behind in his rush to leave the harbor. What made him leave so quickly that he left everything behind?
Soon after Troy had left, their food had arrived. Ethan had lost his appetite after the recent broadcast. The remains of the accident that were shown were enough to make his stomach churn.
"Uh...Sorry..." he said, calling the waiter that was about to leave. "Can we get these to go."
He nodded and took the two plates back to the kitchen. Just as he turned his attention away from the waiter, a familiar face stood on the opposite side of the table. Ethan blinked twice at the overweight man dressed in a suit that barely fit him.
"Max?" he asked, confused. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Hi, Ethan," the fat businessman replied, extending his hand for a handshake.
Ethan return the handshake with some hesitation. Whatever Max was here for, it was incredibly important. He wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this.
"Not your usual place to eat, I suppose? Has the company been doing that bad?"
Max frowned, but dismissed Ethan's comment. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but I really have no choice."
"Oh don't worry. I believe you," Ethan grinned. "Take a seat."
Max pulled out the plastic chair and sat down. "I have an offer for you."