“So we can narrow it down?” asked Tom hopefully.
“Perhaps, I have some guys working on it but if any units have been stolen or gone missing, it could be anybody.”
“Try Rolf. If it’s made it onto the black market, he’ll know about it,” suggested Tom.
“Good idea, I’ll give him a call. What about your parents? What will you do?” asked Daniel.
“Go and get them of course,” replied Lela matter of factly. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Tom, get ready. I’ll call Kano and Kisho.” She walked off to her room.
Both Tom and Daniel were still looking at the door as she disappeared.
“She’s not joking is she?” asked Daniel.
“She doesn’t joke. I better get ready. It seems I’m going to Equatorial Guinea in five minutes.”
“Can I come?” asked Daniel.
“What?”
“Can I come? It’s only because of me that you know to go and surely the more people on your side the better.” He was almost pleading.
Tom thought for a moment. What the hell, if he wanted to come who was he to stop him? “OK, but be back here in five minutes.”
Five minutes later, everyone was back in Tom’s room. Lela had been dubious about Daniel’s involvement and told Tom that he couldn’t come until he had reappeared completely dressed in black, including balaclava and a belt around his waist which contained various implements and weapons.
“Good god Daniel, what are you doing with all that?” asked Tom.
“Standard issue my friend. Covert mission equipment,” replied Daniel proudly.
“Do you know how to use it all?” asked Lela.
“Doh, of course. This isn’t a fancy dress outfit you know,” replied an offended Daniel.
“Ok. He can come,” said Lela to Tom, surprising Daniel who hadn’t realised he might not have been. He now knew who wore the trousers in the Kennedy household.
“I just need to do one more thing before we go,” said Tom.
“What now?” asked Lela desperate to leave.
Tom looked at her and said, “you know very well what we need to do before we go.” She nodded. They had discussed the possibility earlier. Tom picked up the receiver and called Jonathan, he had become their link into the Alba empire.
“Hi Tom, how’s things?”
“Not good. I’ve just heard that the story will break tomorrow.”
“Oh no! What do you want to do?”
“I want to do what we discussed. Break the story now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Tom put the phone down.
Within the next ten minutes, the full might of the Alba empire would break the story that evidence linked its owner to the recent assassinations.
Chapter 39
Beaumont was standing next to the podium where the White House Press Secretary was taking his morning briefing. As expected, there were a lot of questions regarding the shocking events over the weekend and the arrest of Donald Kennedy. What was the US Government doing to help him, etc. etc. Beaumont was bored. When he had booked himself into the briefing on Friday, he had expected an entirely different scenario. ‘Donald Kennedy, an assassin?’ ‘Surely not?’ blah blah blah.
He now wanted to get out of the press briefing but after making such a fuss to be there, he thought he had better stay, particularly as he wanted to be there when it broke the following morning.
He began to think about any loose ends they may have missed but there was nothing. Smith’s team would start the riot in the prison and then assist the guards in stopping it. Of course, only after the Kennedys were pumped full of bullets. He had placed Jones and his team as back up. If anything did go wrong, they would be standing by to take care of things. In fact, every eventuality was covered.
Beaumont was suddenly aware that the briefing had stopped, not because it had finished but because the room had filled with the sound of ringing phones. Everyone had their phones on silent, but emergency numbers for reporters overrode this feature. What was happening, thought Beaumont. He looked across at the press secretary who looked as lost as he was.
“Mr Press Secretary?” one of the reporters had finished his call. “Does the Whitehouse wish to comment on the story currently being run by Global Media?”
“If you’d like to tell me what the story is, I’ll be happy to comment.”
“Are you saying therefore that the Whitehouse does not wish to comment or won’t comment on the story?”
Beaumont had a feeling of dread. This had all the signs of another disaster about to happen.
“John, will you stop being obtuse and tell me the damn story you’re referring to?” said the Press Secretary to a reporter he had known for years.
“You really don’t know? Global who are owned by Alba International have just broken the story that Donald Kennedy, their owner and CEO, is the number one suspect in the recent spate of assassinations.”
“They’ve what?” blurted Beaumont a little too loudly and found himself under the media spotlight. He quickly stepped back and left the room, leaving the press secretary to deal with it. He needed to see the report. Why would they buy a channel to kill a story and then break it first? He burst into his room and selected the Global channel. He immediately went to their interactive area and selected the ‘Top Story’ banner. The story played from the beginning and Beaumont had to congratulate whoever had pulled this one off. They had given the details but in such a way to leave just enough doubt, their use of words was very clever. They had run the story to take the sting out of the tail and every other broadcaster and newspaper was now playing catch up. Global would lead the story from now on. They had been first to break it and people would now look to them as the definitive source. Very clever indeed.
“What do you think?” asked the President as he entered Beaumont’s office, pointing to the TV.
“Very smart, they’ve planted just enough doubt for the short-term but when the press start to dig, he’s had it.”
“I know, great move. How quickly can we leak the evidence we’ve got?”
“Not too quickly. If it all rushes out, we expose ourselves. It has to be slow and as though it’s only just being uncovered. That’ll probably buy a couple of days of doubt. But it’s irrelevant anyway,” replied Beaumont.
“True,” pondered the President. “In less then 24 hours, it won’t be an issue.”
Chapter 40
“So let me get this right. We’re going to land the plane at an airport 3,000 miles from here, make our way secretly to a prison we don’t know the exact location of, break in avoiding heavily armed guards, find your parents whose location in the prison is unknown, break them out avoiding heavily armed guards, find our way back to the airport and leave,” said Kano to Lela and Daniel who were in the back of the plane.
“That about sums it up,” replied Lela.
Kano shook his head. This was going to be impossible he thought. Daniel, in turn, realised that he hadn’t really thought through what they were about to do before deciding to join them and now wished he hadn’t.
Tom joined them from the flight deck.
“We just need to make a quick stop on the way, shouldn’t take long and we don’t even need to get off.”
“Fuel stop?” asked Daniel.
“Something like that,” he said disappearing back into the cockpit.
“What does he mean something like that?” asked Daniel.
“I’m sure it’s just that, don’t worry. Come and help me find the location of the prison before we lose the signal,” said Lela who was searching the internet to find the prison. However, coverage over Africa was still patchy and there was a good chance they would lose the signal at any moment.
“So what is the plan?” Kisho asked Tom as they flew towards their first destination, Owando - an airstrip in Congo.
“I reckon I’ve got the flight and ground transport covered. You guys just need to sort out the getting in and out part.�
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“You do realise this is not going to be easy,” replied Kisho.
“Of course I realise but we have to try.”
“I know, I know.”
Three hours later, they were making their approach to Owando airfield. Flaming torches guided them in towards the darkened runway. Owando airport was closed, it only operated in the daylight hours. Tom could see a huddle of people awaiting their landing. Kisho also spotted an Alba International logo on a Citation X jet sitting on a taxi way. He looked across at Tom.
“What have you been up to?” he asked with a smile.
“Nothing much,” answered Tom craftily.
The landing was a little bumpier than normal. It always helped when you could see where you were going. It really was pitch black, the flaming torches offering nothing more than a rough guide to the runway’s edges. They taxied to a stop and were immediately met by a fuel tanker which began the process of refuelling the plane. Tom opened the door.
“Best everybody wait on board, I have some business to deal with and they’re not expecting anyone but me.”
“That’s the funniest thing you’ve said all day,” replied Kano. “You have two options, one you don’t go or two you go with one of us.”
Tom looked at Kano, he wasn’t kidding, this wasn’t up for debate.
“OK , I’ll take Lela,” he said. “She certainly won’t upset the locals.”
Kano looked at Kisho who, having spotted the Alba jet, was fairly confident he knew what Tom was up to. Kisho shrugged a ‘fine with him’. Lela could probably kick both he and Kano’s arses anyway. Kano nodded that this was acceptable.
Tom entered the combination for the war chest as he called it. The chest contained several hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash. It was common practice for private jets to carry a stash of cash as not all airport refuellers accepted credit cards and pilots never knew where they may be forced to land. However, it was uncommon to carry the amount held on Tom One but Donald had insisted they should have enough to buy themselves out of just about any hole they may fall in. He withdrew $150,000 before locking the safe and leaving with Lela.
A large well dressed man met him, counted the cash and nodded to his colleagues. They went straight to work and the plane shuddered under their efforts. Thirty minutes later, the men were finished and the plane was ready to go.
“Thank you again,” said Tom surveying their work. “It’s fantastic.”
“Amazing,” said Lela.
“No, no, thank you,” said the man, gesturing towards the bundle of cash.
“Not at all,” said Tom. “It’s more than worth it. You’ve been great and if there is ever anything I can do for you, please ask,” said Tom.
“It's ok, just tell young Rolf you were happy and I’ll be more than delighted.”
“Of course,” replied Tom, beginning to wonder how active young Rolf was in his father’s business. Rolf had proved, yet again, that whatever was needed, Rolf could get it and fast.
As they walked back to the aircraft, a jeep appeared and drove straight towards them. All that could be seen in the darkness were the full beams shining towards them. As Tom and Lela reached the top of the stairs to the plane, the jeep drew to a stop less than five yards away from them and killed its lights. Five men jumped out and ran towards the aircraft each dressed entirely in black. They silently ran up the stairs and slipped into the cabin before the door shut behind them. It was then that Lela, Kano and Kisho recognised them. They were four islanders from Penaraja led by Papa, Lela’s grandfather, the elder and leader of the Penarajans. Lela hugged her grandfather and refused to let go. She was very pleased to see him.
Kisho had guessed that Tom had organised some help but hadn’t expected Papa and the islanders. Tom explained that he had called Papa, they had discussed the options and agreed that there was nothing to lose by their coming and being ready, just in case. They had flown in early that morning.
Without further ado, Papa took control of the plan to break in and out of the prison. Within twenty minutes, even Kisho and Kano were beginning to think they might just pull it off.
Once the plan was agreed, Kisho and Tom got them back in the air. With less than an hour until they landed, they all began to get ready. The cash safe was not the only safe on board the plane. Befitting their status as bodyguards, Kisho and Kano also had a weapons safe. Kano punched in the code and extracted the small arsenal they had. The islanders had brought some weapons with them but preferred by far the ones on offer by Kano and Kisho.
Chapter 41
The story breaking early caught Smith off-guard. He had been told it would not break until the following morning but it broke a full 12 hours early. His men were still getting into position. He had arranged for over forty of his men to take up station with the prison guards. He wanted to ensure his plan worked. He had also arranged for ten of his toughest men to masquerade as prisoners and initiate the riot. They would ensure it lasted long enough to cover the murders of the Kennedys.
Another ten of his men were stationed at the prison’s main entrance. He didn’t want anybody getting in or out until the job was done.
Unbeknownst to Smith, Jones and his men, had also arrived that afternoon. Their plane had been escorted to a private hangar by a very bribeable customs official who chose to ignore the heavily armed men in favour of a large pile of cash. Jones’ orders were clear. He was not to let anything go wrong, if Smith failed he was to make sure that the Kennedys died. He placed his men around the perimeter of the prison, thereby throwing an additional cordon around Smith’s men. He had also left a couple of men back at the airport. Having been forced to land Alba One was still there and was effectively abandoned. Jones organised a little modification for it, as a precautionary measure.
If nothing else happened that night, the Kennedys were going to die.
Chapter 42
As they began their descent, Kisho began to feel nervous about the reception they would receive. Afterall, they were about to land in a country whose President had arrested the Kennedys for mass murder.
“Have you thought about how we’re going to cover our arrival?” asked Kisho.
“I’ve thought of everything, don’t worry, just leave it to me,” said Tom.
Two minutes later, Tom opened up the mic. to talk to the control tower at Malabo airport.
“Malabo Tower, this is Gulfstream One, can you please clear us for landing.”
“Gulfstream One, we have no notification of your arrival at Malabo, can you please confirm your airport of origin and the purpose of travel to Equatorial Guinea.”
“Malabo Tower, I would not like to be in whosever shoes has messed this one up. Our Origin was Savannah Georgia and our purpose of travel is to deliver your President’s shiny new jet. Next you’re going to tell me that a hangar’s not been made available.”
Panic ensued below them as Tom had predicted. The tower staff contacted the ground staff who quickly emptied a hangar. With no idea how big the plane was, they just emptied the biggest one available. The manager of the control tower took over the communication with the Guinean President’s new plane.
“Gulfstream One, of course you are cleared to land, runway 22 and apologies for my subordinate, he will of course be disciplined for his stupidity.”
“Thank you Malabo Tower, I’m glad we sorted that out. I didn’t want to have to fly back to Georgia tonight,” replied Tom.
“Very impressive!” said Kisho. “But you do realise that when we land we’re screwed. The Alba logo and G-TOM1 are hardly going to look presidential.”
“Hmm good point. We’ll just have to see what happens. Anyway, time to land,” said Tom cutting the discussion short as they made their final approach. They soon landed and followed an escort to the hangar set aside for them. As they came to a stop and the doors to the hangar closed behind them, Kisho opened the door to the plane and waited for the electronic staircase to unfold. The Airport Manager arrived, obviously called ou
t of bed, for the arrival of the important new jet.
“Hi,” said Kisho expecting them to shoot him on sight for the lies Tom had told.
“Good evening Sir,” replied the manager. “What a beautiful jet for our President.”
Kisho was baffled until he followed the Manager’s gaze and looked along the side of the plane. The Equatorial Guinea flag and new tail registration looked back at him. He also noticed half a seal next to the door and assumed correctly it would be the President’s seal. Kisho kicked Tom who was standing right behind him, just out of the Manager’s view.
“May I come up and have a look?” asked the Manager.
“Impossible, I’m sorry,” responded a very stern Kisho. “The President himself has not yet seen the aircraft, I couldn’t possibly allow anybody on board before him. I’m sure you understand this protocol.”
“Of course,” replied the Manager. “I apologise for my impertinence.”
“No problem, don’t worry, the minute the President has seen it, I’m sure we can give an important man like you a proper tour,” he added in conspiratorial tone.
“Thank you, that would be a great honour.”
Tom nudged Kisho and whispered in his ear what he needed to do next.
“Now if you don’t mind, we have some things we need to prepare for the President’s visit and they must remain private until the unveiling. You know, decorations and things. A couple of jeeps from the Palace will be here shortly. Could you make sure they get straight through to us? And also ensure that we have no prying eyes?”
“Of course, consider it done,” replied the Manager who then turned around and left the hangar while barking orders to his subordinates to ensure the President’s men were not disturbed.
Tom made a call giving the green light for the trucks to arrive.
Ten minutes later, the doors of the hangar parted briefly and two completely blacked out Lincoln Navigators sped in. The drivers introduced themselves as friends of ‘young Rolf’ and were at their disposal for whatever they needed. Tom really wanted to ask what Rolf was up to, it seemed these guys worked for him and not his father.
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