Shem's English wasn't clean enough for him to have understood the speaker, though he had made a game out of picking out the words he recognized --he knew enough idle chatter to last through a brief conversation. The French was mind-numbingly baffling, however. Not a single word brought any sense of familiarity to the Israeli Representative. He looked around at the sea of faces and examined just how many of them were nodding, pensive and understanding.
He must have been the only person there he didn't understand what was being said. That either made him very special or --no, special would do.
When the interpreter had come to the Hebrew portion of the lecture, Shem could feel his face fall. He hadn't been aware that there were threats to the current British ministry. Furthermore, he still didn't understand what the great issue with Crouch had been. He was young, he knew that, but that didn't mean he was stupid. And that certainly did not mean the wool could be pulled over his eyes.
"Ken." He called out, his Hebrew high-brow and well enunciated. "I was not aware that Britain had such a tyrant in a state of power. In fact, I, admittedly, find it quite hard to believe." Shem was a brash and proud man. "And all those fired --is it proven that they held a hand in these proclaimed atrocities? Quite the overhaul."
Smirking, he leaned over to his bodyguard and whispered to her: "Furthermore, why wasn't there a parade held in honor of my arrival?"