The walls have eyes
The Penthouse. A room reserved for the most significant of guests, a room notorious for housing the
rich and famous, and a room that exuberates luxury. The Walton’s was no different, the walls stood
tall reinforcing the atmosphere of wealth that engulfed the entire room, allowing a feeling of utter
privacy, aside from the very own walls that surrounded them. Grand windows acted as gateways,
allowing the soft moonlight to treacle in and encompass the space like a slow moving river. A gold
gramophone lay peacefully in the corner of the study area, gently playing a delicate symphony in the
background that created an aura of sheer tranquillity. An aura that would not last long…
His footsteps resounded throughout the hotel, a warning to anyone in his path to make a swift exit,
as he marched towards his temporary residence. He burst through the imposing, oak doors without
hesitation abruptly diminishing the calming ambiance. His voice held a frantic tone as he stormed
towards his *desk, ‘how could this happen?!’ he barked. The two men following behind daren’t
answer, their suits a constant reminder of their place compared to the enraged man before themthey were far from cheap- but far from him. ‘How do we retaliate gentlemen? How do we prevent
this from escalating?’ The shorter, blonde accomplice began to speak, weary of further upsetting the
man before him, ‘With all due respect sir, we can’t and mustn’t make any haste decisions. This is a
highly volatile situation.’
His face twitched in fury, his forehead wrinkled with anger, his face noticeably turning a deep shade
of crimson. A pulsating vein appeared on his usually un-tense face, a sight that few had seen, and a
sight that fewer had seen without being scorned. His mouth twisted into a prominent frown that
spread a petrified appearance on the blonde man’s face. ‘I am aware of that Frederick!’ he spat out
with a tone full of deadly venom. Perching on his leather seat the man began to control his rage. His
face gradually relaxed, more so with each exhale. A look of relief took over both Frederick and John’s
faces as their superior seemed to acknowledge his unjustified outburst. ‘We need to control the
situation before it gets anymore hazardous, we need to stop their influx of supplies’ he stated, his
voice low and commanding. ‘How do we do that sir? Tensions are already spilling over creating
conflict.’ John regrettably announced.
In that moment, the room changed. The once spacious rooms became suffocating, and the harsh
moonlight darkened, drowning out the once peaceful atmosphere. The gramophone that had been
playing soothing symphonies now played what resembled a clutter of high pitched instruments
battling to be heard, it was the ending of peace and the beginning of war. ‘Here is what I plan to do
to quarantine the situation, we shall orchestrate a naval blockade.’ He stated, a minute smile tugging
at the corners of his mouth as he allowed him to believe he had conjured up a fool proof plan. ‘But
sir, creating a blockade is seen as an act of war. We cannot risk the repercussions.’ Frederick spoke
cautiously to avoid worsening the situation. ‘But you see, under the Rio Treaty if I obtain a two third
approval from the Organization of American States the act is seen as defence of the western
hemisphere- not war. And that is the beauty of it.’ He rebutted allowing a coy smirk to dominate his
appearance. ‘We cannot allow for the Russians to have clear access to Cuba, do I make myself clear?’
He challenged.
‘Yes Mr. President.’
Taiyse Rich