Assassin (The Billionaire Series)

by Murray Mcdonald

  “Are they in the study?”

  “Yes,” said Tom as he was barged out of the way by a now very angry Lela.

  “I’ll get them,” she said as she stormed off.

  “I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes,” mumbled Kisho.

  “We know better than to upset our little Lela,” said Kano.

  “Yep, she’s quite scary when she gets going,” said Kisho.

  “Well that’s because Mum taught her everything she knows,” mumbled Tom under his breath. Kano and Kisho stifled a laugh as Rachel glowered at Tom.

  “What was that Tom?” she snapped.

  “Nothing, nothing at all Mum,” replied a sheepish Tom.

  Two minutes later and escorted by a triumphant Lela, Donald and Saki were marched into the kitchen.

  “Hi guys,” said Donald as he took his seat.

  “Well at last,” said Rachel. “We can start our meal. What have you two been up to?”

  “Just finalising the plans for the Africa trip,” replied Donald innocently.

  Tom almost choked on his drink. He had never seen his father lie so nonchalantly to his mother. It was nonetheless a very clever lie. Donald had organised a week away from the business to help support Rachel in her contribution towards eradicating unnecessary child deaths in impoverished African states. Rachel was so pleased with his support that she didn’t query any of his plans.

  “Oh, good. Everything OK?” she asked nervously.

  “Of course! We leave tomorrow night, as planned.”

  “Anyway, tonight’s about Tom and Lela, not us. Back to school tomorrow, I can’t believe the holidays are over so soon!” said Donald.

  “I know, it feels like just last week that we were on our way home but it was ten weeks ago, it’s unbelievable!” said Tom.

  “I only wish term time went by as fast as holiday time,” said Lela who had now calmed down.

  “If we could crack that, we’d make a lot of money,” joked Donald.

  It was midnight before they realised the time. The evening, after its shaky start, had been great fun. The old Donald and Saki were back, laughing and joking as the family reminisced about Tom and Lela’s first year at The Academy. Nobody mentioned the events that had marred their first two weeks at school. It was not that they didn’t want to discuss the kidnapping of Donald, Rachel and Saki, or the fact that Tom and Lela narrowly escaped the clutches of terrorists who were attempting to prevent Donald from completing a deal which would make him the richest man in the world. They didn’t discuss it because it was just not appropriate the night before they went back to school.

  “I think perhaps it’s time for bed guys,” said Donald looking at his watch.

  “Aw, can’t we stay up just a little longer,” pleaded Tom. This was the first quality time they had spent together the whole summer.

  “No, come on it’s after twelve and we’ve got an early start.”

  “Please, Donald, just another half hour,” tried Lela in her most pleading tone.

  “No, Donald’s right. Time for bed,” butted in Saki as he saw Donald begin to soften. Her mother had definitely left her mark on Lela, Tylanni would always get what she wanted and Saki was now used to Lela’s wily ways.

  Five minutes later, after their goodnights, Tom and Lela made their way to their rooms.

  “I’d forgotten how much fun Dad and Saki could be,” said Tom.

  “Yeah, I’ve really missed them, it’s good to have them back.”

  “Me too but I’ve got a funny feeling they’ll be back to their strange behaviour tomorrow.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s wrong?” asked Lela.

  “None whatsoever and I’m starting to get worried. I wish school was starting in another couple of weeks. I’d like to have been around to try and find out what’s going on. Anyway, we need to get some sleep. Goodnight Lela.”

  “Goodnight,” replied Lela as she made her way back to the Lodge.

  Tom’s prediction was nearly right. As he and Lela made their way to bed, Donald and Saki were already on their way back to the study. They had waited only two minutes before reverting to their strange behaviour.

  Chapter 8

  ‘Frantic’ would not begin to describe the scene at the Kennedy Estate the next morning as everybody rushed to get ready for their respective trips. Luggage littered the helipad as Rachel ensured everybody was prepared for every eventuality. Finally and with twice the amount of luggage needed, they took off and made their way to the airport.

  The helicopters landed at the Alba hangar which housed Alba One and Tom One. As Rachel and Lela ensured everybody’s suitcases were sent to the correct plane, the others made their way into the hangar and towards the office to meet the pilots. The office was bustling with activity as the maintenance crew and aircraft crew finalised the flight details for each plane. Alba One’s flight plan was more complex, particularly as it would be landing at a number of airports which had never witnessed nor accommodated the new Airbus A380, the largest commercial airliner. Donald had toyed with the idea of borrowing his old 747 for the trip but Tom had told him not to be so ridiculous, as long as a runway could accommodate a 747, it could accommodate the new A380.

  “Dad, where are the pilots for Tom One?”

  Donald looked around. “Oh I’m sure they’re here somewhere. Maybe they’re checking over the charts for the flight.”

  “They can’t be, the charts are all lying here and haven’t been touched.”

  “Jim?” said Donald , addressing the pilot for the A380.

  “Yes Sir?”

  “Have you seen the pilots for the G550?”

  “No, I haven’t. What time were they due?”

  “They should’ve been here by now. We’re all leaving at the same time,” said Donald checking his watch.

  “Oh,” said Jim.

  “We’ll go and see if we can find them,” offered Kano and Kisho, disappearing out of the office.

  Tom began looking over the charts as he waited for the pilots to appear. They had plenty of time. In fact, they had a couple of days to spare. Donald had suggested they leave early and have the week-end to acclimatise before starting school on the Monday. Tom thought it was just some BS so that they would all leave at the same time. In this way, their parents wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving for their African adventure the day before he and Lela were due to go back to school.

  Kano came back into the office.

  “It’s Ok, we found the pilot, he was already in the aircraft.”

  As Kano stepped aside, a pilot dressed in full uniform appeared in the doorway with his head tipped forward, obscuring his face behind the rim of his cap. As he entered the room, his head lifted to reveal a smiling Kisho.

  “Stop fooling around, Kisho, where’s the pilot?” Tom wasn’t in the mood for jokes and looked in the main hangar for any sign of the real flight crew.

  “I’m the pilot,” replied Kisho proudly.

  “Don’t be silly, you fly helicopters, not jets,” dismissed Tom.

  “No, I am the pilot,” replied Kisho indignantly. “I’ve been learning to fly one of those for quite a while now,” he added, motioning to the G550.

  “Really? …Wicked!!” said Tom excitedly. “So where’s the co-pilot?”

  Nobody replied and after a nod from Donald, Kisho produced another jacket and cap from behind the door and handed them to Tom. Tom just looked at them bewildered.

  “Take them, you’ll need them to be co-pilot,” said Donald.

  “But I can’t be, I’m not 17, it’s not allowed,” replied Tom.

  “Let’s just say I have a few friends who made it possible,” explained Donald as he produced Tom’s new flying licence.

  “Cool!!!” shouted Tom as he took the jacket and cap, trying them on immediately.

  Chapter 9

  The phone buzzed and was answered before the end of the first ring.

  “Yes,” answered Beaumont.

  “We’ve just receive
d confirmation that they’ve taken off. We have their flight plans but we’ll track them as well just to make sure there are no last minute changes.”

  “Excellent. How’s everything else?”

  “Lets just say Equatorial Guinea is not the easiest place to work in. The Guinean President, Benga, is a certifiable madman and control freak. He wants to know everything we’re doing, every second of the day.”

  “I’ll have a word with him and remind him who’s boss. He rules at our pleasure. You won’t have any more problems with him. Anything else?”

  “No, everything is on schedule. The ‘accident’ will happen tonight as planned and we’re just finishing the paintwork on the borrowed Migs.”

  “Excellent and remember, failure is not an option.”

  “I’m well aware of that, you don’t need to keep reminding me,” irritation crept into the Commander’s voice. He had only recently been transferred to work with this ‘younger man’. The Commander was unaware of Beaumont’s identity, he was just a voice from whom he took orders. Previously he had worked for The Chairman, known to him only as ‘the boss’, but he had been asked to move over to Beaumont and take a number of his best men with him for a short secondment. He was naturally disappointed with this apparent demotion but an order was an order. The boss had noted his disappointment and emphasised it was only because he was so good at his job that he was being transferred. He needed his best commanders for a very special operation being run by the ‘younger man’.

  The Commander’s name was Smith and like every member of the Committee’s small and ultra secret army, his name was a pseudonym. All previous names, backgrounds and records were permanently erased on selection to this very special force. It was a truly multi-national force. Recruiters scoured the world to select the best candidates. Each candidate was observed for a period of time and only once the recruiters were truly convinced that they were right for the secret army, would the recruitment process begin. The process could take anything up to a year, with various tasks and tests being carried out on the individual. Only when they proved their complete and total allegiance, could an offer be made. The offer, of course, made no reference to The Committee. In fact, as far as each member of the secret army knew, they were still employed by their own country’s armed forces, only at a higher level. They all thought they had joined a top secret multi-national force which operated beyond the limits within which their governments could legally operate. Their training conditioned them to believe that the most obscure tasks had global repercussions and although they may seem bizarre, they were all designed to protect the national security of their own countries, if not directly, indirectly. With these beliefs, the soldiers carried out the most heinous crimes - assassinations, torture, bombings and many other horrors without question. Of course, one of the criteria for selection was a propensity for violence. They had found over the years that this made for a much more obedient soldier. However, the ultimate criterion was that there was no turning back. The real identity of each member of the secret army ceased to exist after their enlistment. Accidents were arranged, bodies and records were swapped to ensure their histories did not follow them.

  There were over a thousand members of the secret army stationed across the world, trained to perfection and armed with the latest and most deadly weapons. Had it not been top secret, it would have been the most talked about army in the world, overshadowing even the SAS and the Seals. The Committee’s recruiters ensured they got the cream of the crop, only their rejects would be available to those ‘lesser’ units.

  “Apologies, it’s just that we’ve got a lot riding on this,” recovered Beaumont.

  “I understand, don’t worry, my men and I won’t let you down,” said Smith.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” asked Beaumont.

  “No, everything’s in place, please just make the call to the Guinean President and get him off our backs so we can get on with our work.”

  “Consider it done. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Smith replaced the receiver, he heard the phone ring next door in the Guinean Presidential office. A few seconds later the President’s booming voice exploded.

  “How dare you speak to me like this! Who do you think you are?”

  Obviously, Beaumont was being true to his word and whatever he was saying soon took effect as the Guinean President’s initial anger tailed off and turned to fear. The next thing he said was in much softer tone.

  “Yes, I understand and please accept my apologies. Of course we’ll do whatever you wish.”

  Smith turned to his deputy and indicated it was time to go. They had less than two hours to prepare for that night’s mission. The missile was still experimental and it was imperative that everything was done precisely or there was no telling where the damn thing would go. He had begged for another way to carry out the mission but Beaumont had been insistent, it had to be done by using the new missile.

  Chapter 10

  Donald, Rachel and Saki relaxed as the enormous plane lifted off from Glasgow. Alba One was more like an apartment with wings than an airplane. No expense had been spared. Donald joked that the only difference between the plane and home was the view from the windows. Their first stop on their whistle-stop tour of Africa was Gabon in Western Africa which would take just over 9 hours.

  ***

  Less than an hour behind Alba One, the significantly smaller but no less luxurious Tom One had taken off. Its journey was significantly longer and would take over 12 hours.

  “I want to make a small detour, if you don’t mind Kisho,” said Tom an hour into the flight.

  “It’s your plane, where do you want to go?”

  “You’ll see, but don’t worry, it’ll only add about 15 minutes to the flight.”

  “Whatever, as long as you don’t burn lots of fuel, it should be fine,” replied Kisho.

  Tom entered the additional flight instructions and contacted Air Traffic Control to request permission for his new destination. Permission was granted and Tom hit the accept button for the new course, resulting in an almost indiscernible turn to the right. The plane also began to drop from its fifty thousand feet cruising height and began to slow.

  “I’m intrigued,” said Kisho. “It looks as though we’re heading towards the South of France.”

  “You’ll see,” was all Tom would say.

  Twenty minutes later, the plane began to level out. They were flying at just over 300 mph and were a mere two thousand feet above the French countryside.

  The cockpit door flew open.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Kano. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re just doing a little detour,” replied Tom looking around. “Lela, come and see!”

  “See what?” she asked as she walked into the flight deck. Lela recognised where they were and began to smile, she knew exactly where they were heading.

  “What are you smiling at?” asked Kisho as he watched his little cousin’s face light up.

  “You’ll see soon enough,” was all she would say.

  Kano and Kisho watched as they cruised along the favoured playground for the rich and famous. Cannes, Antibes, Nice, they looked spectacular as they flew by.

  “Now watch very carefully,” said Tom pointing ahead to the left.

  “What are we looking for?” said the twins, increasingly frustrated.

  “You’ll see,” replied Lela with a huge grin but the grin began to disappear as Monaco appeared below them.

  “Tom, what’s going on?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, she should be there,” he replied.

  Kano and Kisho looked at each other wondering who ‘she’ was. Finally they asked “Who’s ‘she’?”

  Tom and Lela ignored them, scouring the view of Monaco harbour below them.

  “Who is ‘she’?” repeated Kisho.

  “Tylanni,” replied an agitated Lela.

  “What do you mean Tylanni?” asked an exasperate
d Kisho, it was like pulling teeth. “Will somebody just tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “You know I got this plane for my birthday, well Lela and my mum got a pretty spectacular present too. They’d always wanted a boat and this year they got one as a joint birthday present, it’s supposed to be here in its berth.”

  “Maybe we just missed it?”

  “Trust me, if it were there we would have seen it,” said Lela.

  Rachel and Lela’s birthday present had been a massive surprise in more ways than one. Their birthdays were within a week of each other and coincided with the start of the summer holidays. The family had boarded the plane as normal for their holiday to Penaraja. However, a minor fault developed in the plane which resulted in an unscheduled stop in Nice. Of course, nothing was really unscheduled. On arrival at Nice, a helicopter whisked them down to Monaco to spend the night in the Presidential suite of the Hotel de Paris. After dinner on their exclusive balcony, a spectacular firework display lit up the sky, at the end of which a particular ship, anchored in the port, was lit up in a blaze of floodlights. Two pairs of binoculars were produced and given to Rachel and Lela. Sitting in the Monaco port was the most magnificent yacht. It was not the largest boat but was certainly one of the sleekest and Donald assured them was the fastest. Rachel and Lela both began to cry as they read the name on the bow of the ship, ‘Tylanni’, named in memory of Lela’s late mother. They immediately went down to the port and spent the following week cruising around the Med before returning to Alba One and resuming their trip to Penaraja.

  “You would definitely have seen her from up here,” said Tom. “She’s over 350 feet long. In fact if you look below us now, that’s the Carinthia VII which is 320 feet long. Tylanni looks similar only sleeker and 50 feet longer.”

  “That’s enormous,” said Kano.

  “Well she’s certainly not invisible, where the hell is she?” exclaimed Tom. “Lela are you sure she wasn’t going anywhere?”