Abu had decided that now was the time to visit his mansion in the jungle, and a platoon of government troops went with him. He didn’t want to be there. Not right now. Especially now, with rebels having a tendency to pop up out of the bush at any tick of the clock.
His mountain retreat was important to him, but not that much to risk his neck for.
He had to be here, as this was where he hoped to hear from Sudovich on a secure communication line. The papers and the valuables he held in stock here were not of a value to risk a life for, but the reason to be here would afford him the excuse to retrieve them, and thus add to his, as yet, very small fortune.
It was ten o’clock in the morning, and he sat in a large room which was well lit by brilliant sunshine.
His mansion as he liked to call it was a sprawling affair. Made of heavy timbers, most of which had been cleared from the very land the house was built upon. Where there wasn’t timber there was glass. Huge panes from ceiling to floor that allowed a full view of the gardens and the dense jungle which formed his perimeter.
He would miss this place, all there was in it and the life he would leave behind.
His thoughts finally drifted to Sudovich. Why was it taking so long? It had been ten days and no word on activities, no reports at all. Was there something wrong? He couldn’t believe the possibility Sudovich may have overcome his greed, and not be interested at all.
Abu had met Sudovich once, and that had been six years ago. They’d spoken but a few times, the necessity was not there anymore. After the first and the second money transfers, the operation had been fine tuned to run at its own pace, with just a fax letter to set the wheels in motion. In a way, that allowed both men to keep the contact between them very discreet.
Both Abu and Sudovich had a fear of the insecurity of telephones. They worried a lot about who might be listening with Abu’s fear stemming from Axele and the power he had over him. He and the ministers aligned.
One foot out of line in the loyalty game, and there were no second chances.
Sudovich worried about the Australian Federal Police and the information they might have on him. He worried about the possibility that the very next piece of intelligence about him might just tip the balance, and begin a full blown investigation. Abu shuddered as he thought of Sudovich’s minor worry compared to his. At least the Australian Federal Police didn’t cut you to pieces, and let you watch in agony as those pieces were fed to the crocodiles.
Abu looked at the phone and wondered if he should make contact. It was dangerous, and the cruel face of Axele crossed his mind as he made a resolution. First he would go to the toilet, and then ring Sudovich straight after. No more delays.
As he peed into his personalized urinal, his gaze focused through the window to the jungle beyond the clearing. The dense greenery brought to mind pillaging rebels who may well be roaming the mountains.
His other fear.
As he stood gazing out the window with the thoughts of his two main fears foremost in his mind, the fax phone suddenly sounded. Seemingly loud in the quietness, and somehow out of place in this steamy jungle environment.
His heart for a moment startled, and Abu nearly ducked to the floor with fright. He finished his business, and with wet stains on his trouser front ran back into the room.
Was this it?
He scanned the pages, and then, almost in tears with relief he began to laugh.
Abu fell to his knees before the fax machine, clutched the fax paper to his chest and laughed.
*****
The next day Simon secure posted a large padded bag to the African. At the last moment he decided to write on the back of the envelope a senders’ name and wrote the name of the company he had used. He put the imaginary address from its letterhead on with that name.
If it went missing then Simon didn’t want it coming back to him, and he had backup copies for a second postage if it became necessary.
After this was done he decided there was one thing left to do. He found a good quality restaurant and ordered lunch. He was still without appetite so he began to force himself to eat, and after some mouthfuls gathered momentum to finish the meal. It took longer than it would have done a fortnight ago, but he felt better for it and became a little more alive.
He bought some Lebanese food to take away, two bottles of wine from a pub, a batch of newspapers and returned to the hotel room. With the door closed behind him he did nothing but watch television, read the newspapers and sleep.
One of the newspapers gave a little information about a probable coup attempt on a dictator called Axele, but as far as news sources were concerned there was no immediate danger.
Simon saw that the newspaper was twenty-four hours old before he checked the phone directory. It offered a 1900 number news headline service whose recorded voice made no mention of new trouble.
Relaxed with help from the wine, he slept easily and awoke early the next morning to a full breakfast. When he’d looked closely at the face in his mirror the previous night, he’d noticed that it was showing signs of strain. Maybe it was strain, it could also be the tiredness he still felt, or the fact that he’d been without appetite for ten or more days.
He rang Sarah’s mother who told him Sarah had flown down to Sydney the day before, and could be in the outback by now.
Simon wished he’d phoned her yesterday, and wondered if Sarah was still in Sydney. He wouldn’t know where to begin to look if she was, so he put the thought aside while he rang the airline people and booked a ticket on the next plane out.
Sarah was still on his mind when he boarded the small two engine plane and while he made himself comfortable he looked up at the next boarding passenger. Straight into the eyes of a friend whose face broke into a broad grin.
“Simon.”
Simon tried to stand to meet her, finding out as he partly lifted from his seat that his seat belt was secured. He unbuckled and rose quickly to bump his head squarely on the low aircraft ceiling. She laughed, and then as she fell into his arms she felt she had finally arrived to where she had waited a long time to be. A quiver rushed through her body.
Simon held her, not only because she asked, but because he wanted to, and also because he felt the loneliness of the last ten days’ flood away as he did. He smelt her perfume and kissed her hair, before remembering where he was and he looked toward the cockpit. The pilot grinned at him and gave a faint nod.
“I think the pilot wants to fly.”
She looked Simon in the eye and grinned.
“You know; it was worth flying halfway around the world just to see you wrestle your way out of that seat.”
Simon laughed.
The other passengers on the plane didn’t mind the wait and they’d heard Sarah’s comment, while taking note of her clothes. Khaki shorts, blouse and lightweight bushwalking boots, they knew they were looking at a woman who could probably be capable of walking half way around the world. An older lady passenger smiled as if seeing a memory. A younger woman envied the way Sarah filled the clothes she wore and the pilot envied Simon.
Simon let Sarah have the window seat, and ten minutes later they were above the city and flying away from the morning sun. They talked quietly for about an hour, bringing each other up to date.
Simon didn’t add too much to that part of the conversation, but he added to the conversation in other ways. He asked with interest about her travels, and answered her questions about this part of outback Australia.
As they flew further inland, they sat nearer to each other, each relishing the closeness. This was a time when words were not needed.
Simon’s car was still at the airport; he had wondered about it over the last few days, and was glad to see it parked as he had left it. Still intact, but in need of a jump start. In sitting idle it had brought to Simon’s attention the fact that he would need to buy a new battery. They threw their gear in the car, and drove to a nearby store where they bought supplies. Then after driving some
miles they pulled off the bitumen road and drove to the gate which opened onto the grazier’s pasture.
Simon noted that even after the rain prior to his departure, the country was again drying off and he searched the sky for cloud.
There were none.
The day was warm. Probably in the early thirties he reckoned and the house was dusty. After a light lunch they cleaned up a little and then decided on a swim.
The river was running a good current because of heavy rain in Queensland a couple of months earlier, so they drove in the dusty old Ford through a forest of Coolabah trees to a nearby billabong.
After cooling in the fresh water, they sat on a blanket and talked until finally they kissed and then came together; losing themselves from a world whose openness surrounded them.
The birds that frequented the waterhole whistled as if they condoned the movement of love which was now in their domain.
*****
The next day, Simon and Sarah stayed in the old house, lazed, prepared food, loved and slept in each other’s arms.
The day after that, Sarah picked up her hang glider from a local transport company who’d delivered it from Brisbane, and they travelled to a nearby mountain where she flew with the eagles.
Simon loved to watch her as she drifted through the sky. Gliding high over the sun burnt wide land while he secretly worried, like a parent for a child who might fall. He knew she would scold him gently if he spoke of this worry, and knew also, she was an expert at gliding, so really his fears were unfounded.
She had once told him.
“My time will come one day my love, and if I die flying, then I’ve gone out doing what I enjoy.” Simon remembered she had touched his face and continued the sentence with a gleam in her eye, “There is one thing that I enjoy as much, my friend Simon, but I doubt you’d appreciate me doing that to you.”
Simon saw her point and also the funny side of her statement.
He knew also that there were dangerous days sometimes at sea, and if he were sailing when his time came, he too would prefer it that way.
*****
Abu had gathered together all the possessions from the mansion he was able to carry, without leaving his platoon of troops behind. He cursed the fact the men took up so much room as he rode in the transport truck on the return trip to the capital.
Now, four days later he stood in his office and planned his next step. He’d opened the express envelope from Australia, checking carefully beforehand that the envelope had not been tampered with.
He pressed the intercom button and summoned his secretary who almost immediately appeared at his door. He asked her to bring her typewriter into his office; she smiled questioningly and did as he ordered. As usual Abu thought, a good secretary who carried out his instructions without question.
There was a colour photocopier in his office and he photocopied the letter of authorization which gave him access to the Liechtenstein bank account.
It came out a little light coloured, so he enhanced the tone and was happy with his second attempt. With the next copy, he laid a piece of his blank office stationery under the letter of authorization and was reasonably happy with the outcome.
After three more attempts he had the page of the letter blank except for the letterhead.
He positioned himself behind the typewriter, placed the blank page in the machine and typed, looking as he went at the letter authorizing his access to the Liechtenstein bank account.
Abu typed word for word until he got to his name. At this point, he typed in the names of the ministers aligned before his own. He thought this might give the other parties a secure feeling, in seeing their names to the top of the list.
When he had finished, he used different pens and signed the document with the names that appeared on the original letter. He fudged the first copy and had to start over again, but an hour later he had it done, and he smiled as he looked over his handiwork.
As he was putting the original copies into his safe, he called to the secretary to take the typewriter away. After she had gone from the room he sat by his fax phone and called each of the ministers aligned, asking each of them to secure their fax machines and to stand by to receive.
Each one of them did, and twenty minutes later they all wore smiles of joy as they walked with a little more lightness in their step.
For each of them understood the possibility of the government forces failing to defeat the rebels, and each had an escape route planned.
Once the money was in the bank account they could all leave at a moment’s notice.
Not too early, and not too late.
Abu sat back in his chair and wondered at the feelings in these fool’s hearts. All believing they were rich. They couldn’t even access the $2.4m account, because they would need his signature and he would be gone.
Abu put the bill for services rendered into the system that day, and as each of the ministers aligned knew it was moving through the departments, they gave it priority, signing the necessary papers that sent it quickly on its way. The last minister making sure it made the Nation’s bank by having it delivered by the hand of his personal secretary. By lunch time the next day the whole amount, minus banking fees, was in a bank in Liechtenstein.
The short lawyer was happy, the knowledge that he was $1.63m or thereabouts richer gave him an intense thrill. A feeling he’d nearly forgotten as the economic climate of late had been weak. He’d had thrills in the past when he’d closed on deals.
But $1.63m in one go?
His colleagues would go green with envy. He smiled as he thought of the looks that would be on their faces as he placed a call via the fax to Simon in Australia.
As he punched ‘send’ on his machine and watched the good news go on its way, he hoped that if Simon ever came up with another idea such as this, he would not forget his good friend in Liechtenstein.
End It With A Lie Page 18