Brussels!

NATO headquarters!

Where the hell was NATO headquarters?!

Aha!

I barged through NATO’s security checkpoint and had half the guards after me as I rushed to the conference hall. I had seconds to spare!

 

I pushed through the doors as the attendees from across NATO politely clapped the latest speaker at the alliance’s 70th anniversary gathering. There was the Secretary-General, sat on the stage next to the other speakers…and Sabine Sabrinolova!

 

‘Monsieur Secretary-General!’ I rushed to the stage, ‘your life is in-!’

 

I was tackled by a dozen guards before I could get anywhere near the stage.

 

‘No! You don’t understand!’ I struggled under the grip of two dozen limbs, ‘there’s gonna be-!’

And then, over the tannoy, filling time between speakers, the opening chords of europop sensation Scarf’s smash hit anthem “Odysee” began to pulse. I was out of time.

 

The Secretary-General rose, tap-dancing to the stage, and Sabine couldn’t suppress a smirk. I looked around frantically as I was dragged out the hall. At last, I spied that magnificent ‘fro, rising from the back of the conference.

 

‘Nakia!’ I yelled, ‘stop!’

 

It was no use, even if she could hear me through the trance, the clapping drowned out everything I was saying. Nakia raised a gun at the stage. I had to think fast. My foot brushed a discarded cushion. That’s it! With my one free leg I kicked up the cushion and headbutted it at Nakia.

 

The cushion punted Nakia square in the face. A shot rang out, and dust fell harmlessly from the ceiling.

 

There was pandemonium. The guards released me and struggled through the fleeing crowd to reach Nakia. She rubbed her nose, blinked, and suddenly was herself again, with seconds to look around and realise what was going on.

 

‘Wait! I’m not-’ Nakia dropped the gun and held up her hands as a dozen firearms trained on her. In the panic, I realised nobody was looking at the stage.

 

I looked up and my heart stopped cold. Sabine, emotionless, had pulled a platinum pistol from her jacket and aimed it at the back of the Secretary-General’s confused, terrified head. Nakia’s gun had skidded to my feet. I had to act. NOW.

 

I picked up the gun, flipped the safety off, aimed at Sabine, and squeezed the trigger. The weapon kicked as two ear-splitting bullets slugged Sabine in the head and chest. She looked vaguely outraged as she crumpled on the stage. And that was that.

 

Now the guards’ weapons were trained on me. I held my hands up and let them take the gun from me. As security bent my hands around my back and cuffed me, I smiled at Nakia, who was being led away in cuffs herself. She smiled back.

 

Well. I guess we won.