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    grahamsealby
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Billabong - 13. Chapter 13

13.1

 

'Please come in Brigadier, take a seat. Welcome to our Battalion Headquarters. Can I offer some refreshments?

'(Pleasantly) No thank you Colonel, I'll pass if I may. I drink too much coffee for my own good. My wife believes I've become addicted to the stuff.

'Yes, I find my intake is bordering on excessive, if not habitual. (Fixing the Brigadier with a stare) So, how may I help you?

Brigadier Colin Fergusson of the Military Police had requested a meeting with Garth Stamins on short notice. The Provost Marshal's office had been keeping the Colonel under close watch, as his name kept cropping up on dubious matters. It is not normal for the MP's to monitor a senior ranker, but Garth Stamins had become a red flag in the view of experienced officers. The Brigadier pulled a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and donned rimless reading glasses. He acquired the persona of an amiable, scholarly professor.

'If you'll bear with me Colonel, your name keeps popping up along with the activities of a Corporal Bertrand Kreek. You know of the man sir?'

'(Carefully) Yes, yes I do; he's a part of my command. What of him?'

'This Kreek fellow is a strong person of interest in the case of the murdered American servicemen. In addition, he has just been indicted for the attempted murder of a Corporal Jason Meadows. I take it this is all familiar to you?'

'Yes Brigadier, I pride myself on keeping up to date on matters involving my command. Of course, I'm aware of what's happened, but what has it to do with me?'

'(Looking down at his papers) Hmmm, let me refer to the case of the Darwin murders. You attested that this fellow Kreek was away on the murder dates, doing assignments for you. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'And do you still stand by your sworn statement that Kreek was not near the Darwin area on the murder dates.?

'Yes, of course I do. Brigadier, are you interrogating me? Why do I have to answer questions about a sworn statement I made?'

'(Ignoring the question) Let's see now, you contend that on (date) Kreek was at (Darwin Hotel) entertaining civilians as prospective army suppliers. Right? (Stamins nodded impatiently). Well, Colonel, we've thoroughly checked with the hotel management and staff and they have no recollection of seeing or serving Corporal Kreek; likewise, there are no receipts or any other documentation that would support your claim. In case there was an error of location, we have checked with all of Darwin pubs for that night, and there is absolutely no record of such meeting, as you've claimed. What do you say?'

'That there has to be a mistake somewhere because he definitely wasn't near the (naming the park) on the night in question.'

Long pause. The Brigadier consulted his papers again before responding.

'I see. We have also checked your claim that Kreek was at (naming sites) on the nights in question. I have to tell you we have not been able, with a thorough investigation, to verify Kreek's presence at the sites and dates in question.'

'Where's this going Brigadier? I've made a statement on the matter and I don't expect to be cross-examined. Are you questioning the veracity of a senior officer?'

(Ignoring the question) You know it's amazing what happens when you start digging around looking at evidence. Really amazing. (Fergusson allowed a small smile to appear) When we were showing Kreek's photo around, out of the blue a man came forward saying he'd seen Kreek, not at any hotel, but at the (Darwin park) around the same time the murders were committed. He was adamant. (Stamins had gone white and he looked uncomfortable). Why did you make a false statement to protect an alleged murderer?'

The room became so silent you could've heard the proverbial pin drop. Stamins just stared at Fergusson with a weird grin.

'I note you have failed to answer that question. In which . . .'

'In which case, I will not answer any further questions until I have legal representation.'

'That, of course, is your right and a very sensible move on your part. But I'm not finished. Corporal Kreek maintains that after he gave you proof that your son Kenneth Stamins was having a gay affair, you authorized him to sanction corporal Meadows. As a result . . .'

'THAT’S NOT TRUE! MY SON'S NOT GAY! I DON'T HAVE A GAY SON! It's a vicious . . .'

'Please keep your voice down, Colonel. Your son has admitted he's gay. I had a short talk with him and was very impressed; you should be proud to have a son like him. Now Kreek's defence is that he was acting only on your orders when he attacked Meadows. He also maintains that you will support him in open court.'

'(Alarmed) He said that. He said I'd support him as a defence witness. (Indignant) Let me assure you sir that I have no intention of defending Kreek. We all have to accept the consequences of our actions.'

'True, how true that is. As you've requested legal counsel, I won't ask you to respond to any more questions. I do, however, have to raise a final point. I'm referring to your Press Conference where you arrogantly went against Army policy with regard to Gay people serving in our armed forces. (Stamins shifted uncomfortably but continued to stare at Fergusson with hostility) The ADF has a long memory and your disobedience will be added to the case against you.'

'Case? Case? What are you talking about? Am I to be charged with an offence?'

'(Reasonably) It's not for me to say, Colonel. I'll report the substance of our meeting, and it'll then be in the hands of Division Headquarters, to decide what, if any, further action to take.'

'(Feebly) Can I ask what your report will contain.'

'Certainly, although you'll get a copy of my report as soon as it's sent upstairs. But it will cover three areas. (Consulting his papers) Firstly; giving a false statement to assist an alleged criminal escape justice. Second; Encouraging a lower ranked serviceman to brutalize another serviceman. Thirdly: calling a Press Conference to defy the ADF's official policy on gay servicemen. Of course, when you get the official report you'll be asked to sign that you've received said report.'

Garth Stamins sat staring at his desk blotter. The army had been his career, his soul, and now he could see his whole life crumbling around him. He had no illusions. Being the subject of such a report could result in charges laid against him; just as worse, the prospect of any further promotion vanished. A strange calm began to descend as his mind refused to accept his fate. He could feel himself falling away from reality until he reached a stage when he became numb. He showed neither recognition nor care as the Brigadier departed his office.

* * *

13.2

 

Bert Kreek finished his meal, then laid down on his bunk, smacking his lips satisfactorily. The cell block was very quiet because he was the only person in the lock-up. It was mealtime, so only a skeleton staff would be on duty; after all, with only one prisoner, the duty officer had little to do.

Those bastards George and Lance. I can't understand why they'd stopped me from removing that filthy poofter from this earth. It was so embarrassing, to wake up suffering the after-effects of Ether and find yourself trussed up like an animal. When I get out I'll make them pay - oh yes they'll pay. Not to worry Bert old fella, because the Colonel's on me side. He'll soon sort out these idiots and their stupid threats. Haven't I survived all the shit they've thrown at me? I never budged even when the bastards had insulted me mum. That was low but still, I didn't confess. So much for their . . . what was they called it? Yes, right yes; they called it Judicial Sanction or some such bullshit. Maybe when I get out I'll get me a legal mouthpiece and take em to court for what they did. Cunts!

It started innocently enough, a general flush of his skin which Kreek put down to Darwin's heat and humidity. Then he felt his throat start to swell; he couldn't swallow, and he couldn't speak. This condition continued on for some time, and Kreek still wasn't concerned, blaming his discomfort on the climate. But then he got worse, finding he couldn't breathe and suddenly became very weak.

And then realization dawned; he was having an Anaphylaxis reaction to . . . Sesame seeds. He was severely allergic to Sesame seeds and somehow someone had acquired this knowledge. In a panic, he realized that either the kernels themselves or Sesame oil had been introduced into his food. Normally he was extremely careful about what he ate; in a restaurant he would personally require the chef to make sure none of the deadly foodstuffs would find their way into his food. He'd received this assurance from the mess hall. At home his mother monitored all the food products he ate, so he was never in any danger.

However, he hadn't thought about the danger at the Provost Marshall when they brought him his meal. He was hungry and wolfed down his food.

Now he struggled to keep conscious. He couldn't breathe and couldn't cry out; even so, there was no one around to help him. He was alone, very alone, and very ill. Then he went into Anaphylaxis shock, collapsed and became unconscious. Had there been persons around, even at this late stage, he could have been revived, but there was no one, so . . .

. . . Bert Kreek slipped further into unconsciousness, and unable to breathe, eventually departed this life.

His body was not found until several hours after death, and an immediate investigation launched. An autopsy was carried out and the finding was death by Anaphylaxis shock. How a Sesame seed product found its way into Kreek's food was never established. Nobody mourned Bert Kreek's passing, because he did not, nor could not make friends. His mother had passed on just a short while ago and he was an only child. Sure, there were acquaintances, but they were only attached to Kreek by fear or obligation.

An inglorious ending to a miserable life.

I came to really hate Kreek, not for the person so much, but for all those arseholes who have the Kreek mindset.
Copyright © 2018 gsealbe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

In many ways while Kreek and his type are truly nasty, it is through ignorance that they become like they are. The colonel on the other hand is truly hateful. Willing to use others to put into effect his perversions. Without enablers like the Colonel, the Kreeks of this world are minor, sad, frustrated bit players who either see the light or become ineffectual,  isolated and bitter. People like the Colonel need to be removed from society so they stop spreading their poison.

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7 hours ago, Canuk said:

In many ways while Kreek and his type are truly nasty, it is through ignorance that they become like they are. The colonel on the other hand is truly hateful. Willing to use others to put into effect his perversions. Without enablers like the Colonel, the Kreeks of this world are minor, sad, frustrated bit players who either see the light or become ineffectual,  isolated and bitter. People like the Colonel need to be removed from society so they stop spreading their poison.

Yes, it's the same cowardice that Islamic mullas enjoy when they send children to their death telling them they'll be going to paradise. Why don't these nutters carry their own bombs?

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