CHAPTER 32
PRIME MINISTER Noah Hughes was barely able to sleep that night, all that came to his mind was the sound of the explosion and when the rescue team sent photos of the charred bodies of Major Midleton and his men, he said a prayer, the first and only since it was known by people.
His brother had slept in his house and when he opened the door, he found him naked, in the company of one of his secretaries.
— Erick...
Erick woke up and the secretary jumped up, startled by the presence of the boss.
— Mr. Hughes…— she said sleepily as she hurriedly dressed.
— Which of the two?
Erick laughed, remembering the good times when his brother had a more refined sense of humor.
— Sir... I...
— Just get dressed quickly and get out, Miss Belair, I need to have a quick word with my brother.
She nodded and oddly enough, she couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful secretary as she changed.
Erick, still naked, stretched, seeming not to mind his brother's presence, kissed Fair Belair, who left the room embarrassed.
— So, brother...
— I was hoping you'd get dressed too, you know very well that I'm not the least bit attracted to you.
Erick wore boxer shorts and a white tank top.
— Okay, what's so important?
— We are on the verge of a major crisis and more than ever I will need your support.
— You know you can always count on me.
— I know I can count on you to fuck my secretaries.
— Am I to blame if they are so beautiful and want to have sex with me?
— Pick one that isn't pretty, that you're not attracted to, and focus on work a little, is that too much to ask?
— You know me better than anyone, you should know it's too much to ask for me not to enjoy the warmth of young maidens, and what's the point of working with you without that kind of reward?
— I'm just asking you for attention this week, according to Ben Morant's report, we're in a delicate situation, some madman wants to end the world in nine days and is using London as a stage for a catastrophe.
— The guy who killed Abbot Nielsen?
Noah Hughes agreed.
— It's not just that...
Noah showed the newspaper to his brother, it was stamped with a picture of Charlene Midleton.
— Man... I don't even know what to say...
— At the moment I have to think about the children, can I count on your support, at least today?
Eric hugged his brother.
— You know you can count on me all your life.
He nodded.
— Aren't we overvaluing this guy's stock? — We have Scotland Yard and MI6 on the case, they are among the best cops in the world, there's no way they can't catch a simple murderer.
— I'd also like to think it's an easy situation to resolve, Benjamin Morant has already recruited the best minds to work on the case and they're a long way from knowing who the person or people behind it are.
— If we're working with the best, we can only hope for the best results.
— That's my hope, Eric.
The brother in a rare situation of compassion and empathy held the brother's hand and said:
— You know you can always count on me, don't you?
He acquiesced.
— Yes I know...
Suddenly, it was as if the whole weight of the world had fallen on Noah's shoulders and the truth was something impossible to control or reverse...
— Erick...
Noah fell into his brother's arms and began to cry profusely.
— She will never come back to me, Erick.
The brother was silent, there was no beautiful word in the world that could soften a broken heart. Only time would ease the pain of losing someone she loved.
— No, Noah, what we can do is be good people, defend our country with all our might, so that we have the opportunity to meet her.
Noah had never seen such maturity in his brother's words.
Erick wiped the tears from his brother's face and supported him by his arms.
— Let's have breakfast because no one can lead a country on an empty stomach.