by Brian Cain
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Monday the 11th of October 5.00 am, Williamtown airport Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia. An American Government Citation personal jet touched down in Newcastle. The lone occupant other than the crew alighted and was met by a state police car. Stanton made the lair as the Citation lifted off for its return to Garcia.
Stanton had done some searching in-flight amidst the masses of information on Peter Price and his oil consulting companies still operating through a family trust. It had lagged two years from the disappearance of Price then began trading in several areas of the globe, one being Australia. A consultation process for the North West shelf of Western Australian gas and oil fields involved Price’s organisation and they had advised the government on the development of the Burrup Peninsula gas project and continued to be a major voice in government consultation.
Stanton found more lottery numbers than he could handle; the government minister for Mining Resources, Mines and Energy at the time was a brilliant, young, new minister in her first portfolio, Jean Forbes. A year after the completion of the project Jean Forbes’ son had become a major shareholder in Price’s organisation and the Australian CEO without outlaying a cent; his acquisition was based on performance as a junior board member. Price’s organisation’s main customer was Al Ahmadi-owned operations in Kuwait.
Stanton had fed information to Ahmadi that Jacob had been delayed tying up some loose ends before he made the trip to Kuwait. Cadiche had a few internal problems and discussed things with Stanton in the top cavern of the lair whilst Stanton waited for information to accumulate through his satellites. "I'm frustrated that I can't help some people with direct problems they encounter. My requests for help are sometimes outside of acceptable action. Why should it be up to me?" said Cadiche.
"We’re confronted with modern versions of organisation," started Stanton. "If we look back at the sustained cultures existing still today such as the Inuit Eskimo Indians of the arctic or the aboriginal cultures of Australia they are not as dissimilar as what is around today. Both developed in isolation to each other but have similar traits. They adapted well to the environment such as conditions in the case of the Inuit unimaginable to the aboriginal. An Inuit Indian can withstand a night of below eighty Celsius and an aboriginal can breeze through a day of fifty plus, yet they both respect the elders as carriers of wisdom because they have nowhere else to store it. An aboriginal would die in the north of Greenland and an Inuit would surely perish in the deserts of Australia in comparative time if changed around.
"These cultures of survival in the most uninhabitable places on earth took thousands of years to evolve with natural selection taking a big role. We’re not dissimilar, I’m the holder of masses of information and hold it inside me and other places created by the industrial revolution. Humans are survivors, that's why there are too many of us and the cultural balance used by the Inuit fails but only for some. The Tibetan monks weren’t surprised when the Chinese overran their country and attempted to wipe them out. They have an incredible tolerance of human nature based on their belief that things are as they are and shit happens; they continue to live in contentment amid terrible persecution.
"The Inuit see the blood from a seal on the ice as a celebration of the continuation of life. The aboriginal Cadiche Man of the dreamtime points the bone and stability is maintained. I see the blood on the ground around those who I deal with in the same sense; things have changed and will continue to change. The Inuit Indian that kills the seal may at times be saddened; the Cadiche Man of the dreamtime may fight with the decisions of the elders inside himself. I may at times wonder why me; but these things are real and we will survive. We’re no longer isolated and protected by these climatic variations; people have developed the most horrific ways of exterminating each other. As an elder and holder of the past I cannot allow these things to endanger my family if I can possibly stop them. The time and the circumstances are different, the morals and the application the same. I pass these things on to you and you’ll pass them on when the time comes.
"Vigilante is a word developed by the English language to describe some of the very things I speak of; it has endured for thousands of years. I am mostly left alone because to some degree it works; but to many it’s a mortal and organisational danger and a damn nuisance. If the powers that be had their way everyone would be paying them to work for them but I wouldn’t have that so they need to keep it clean."
Cadiche scratched his head looking at Stanton. "How am I supposed to remember all that; you made it sound simple? Far as I can remember."
"When you’re not troubled by your decisions I have succeeded in educating you. Till then keep asking questions."
"Phew… my partner Kay wants a job like yours but I think she needs to do a bit of ground work."
"Women are as good as men at everything, they just have less opportunity."
"Yeah but I'm stronger than Kay."
"What in smell?" Cadiche laughed as he replied.
"You cut me up Stanton, physically and mentally."
"A wise person uses other’s strengths against them rather than waste their own that may be needed at a later date."
"You're a real smart arse Stanton, got an answer for everything."
"If I am to question or criticise something I must be able to fix it or I would not have identified it as a problem in the first place. To criticise and condemn is easy, to plan and fix is difficult."
Cadiche nodded his head. "Fair enough Stanton, now what do we do with Jacob?"
"These are the hard bits; I have no idea if Jacob is involved in what I'm looking at. MI6 put him in contact. It's a part of the puzzle I don't have. I need to talk to him alone."
Stanton unlocked, opened, and then closed directly behind him the door accessing the small room Jacob was held in. The room had been used to store black powder many years back and still had particles of powder on the stone floor beneath the sparse furnishings. Jacob looked frightened, his face gaunt with fear. He stood up as Stanton entered the room. "Sit down Jacob." They sat opposite each other at the small wooden table and chairs in one corner of the room. The self-contained toilet in another corner and a single bed in a third. "I know why I locked you in here; I need to find out for which reason. I have double-checked and I know that you’ve done work for the British government. What did your father think of that?"
"I have never told my father he would not approve. How is my fiancée?"
"She's fine; why would he not approve and why did you do it?"
"He does not like dealing with the British government, I don't know why. I needed extra money when I was studying and applied to an advertisement for part time work. It was with a British marketing company to decipher Arab language documents for research, the pay was very good for short hours."
"Mm… Who sent you to me?"
"While working one day a man phoned me called Bruce Hurst, said you had some work, told me where I could find you and you were the one that saved me and my father in Baghdad. Told me to say he sent me."
"Okay, do you know much of your father's affairs?"
"Not really, he has just summoned me home for the first time, I don't know why."
"Have you ever heard the name Peter Price?"
"I have read his name many times."
"Where?"
"On the document satchels I deliver to Canberra for my father once a month. Peter Price Consulting Services Kuwait. It is important they are delivered to the right place so I meet them at the airport and take them straight to Canberra; helps my father out, I feel close to him when I do this as we are so far apart."
"Who do you take the satchels to?"
"A lady… her name is Jean, I think she handles dealings with my father for the government."
"When do you pick them up?"
"First Monday of each month but they stopped over a month ago."
"Jacob you’re in great danger, I can’t tell you anything else and I ask you to trust me. You�
�ll have to stay here; no one can get you here. I’ll give you the run of the rest of the place and bring your fiancée here as well. You’ll both be in danger. If you attempt to leave the place we’ll have to lock you up until I fix something. If I fail you may have to stay here for good."
"My father… I am worried about my father."
"Yeah me too, for far different reasons. How long since you have seen him?"
"Over five years, he seldom leaves Kuwait."
"Did you pass on the message about Jahangeer Mashir the Afghan army general?"
"No I did not understand, my father knew this man but I said nothing. I was confused I still don't understand. I understood about the radical influences on the stability of western democracy but other things I did not understand."
"Jahangeer Mashir was found hanging in a street in Kabul. I didn't do it but your father may have."
"This is what you wished, he was spending the people’s money, this is wrong. I could not do such a thing but he must have had many enemies."
"I think you’re as pure as the driven snow, entities that develop isolated from sources of contamination generally are. You may be able to have a new beginning, I just need to keep you alive. MI6 checked you right out, they got it right. Saving your father was a mistake, saving you may just fix it."
Stanton sent Cadiche to pick up Jacob’s fiancée and Jacob saw the lair without a blindfold for the first time.
Stanton checked more information and gathered it to form a plan. The arms deal fiasco could have worked but sanctions on Jodi and taking Mahir were risks that could not be calculated when the plan was hatched.
The next task was Stanton wanted to talk to Price before he saw him dead. Stanton found Jean Forbes’ son working from the top of a high rise business building in Sydney owned by the Price trust. He gave information to Robert and Anthony and they began to put together a profile of his dealings and contacts. Jean Forbes he would leave for now and wanted more information. It was the king pins in the Middle East that were of interest and going to get them was currently not an option; they would now be wise to losing Mahir and Stanton was sure they would have information on the trail of destruction during his capture. Stanton gave himself three days before suspicions on Jacobs's whereabouts when he did not arrive in Kuwait caused a change of tack.
Anthony rang with a breakthrough; Park’s organisation had plenty of enemies in the corporate world. Forbes’ son was in control of a trust that was hedging money from Australia to overseas banks, saving millions in tax. Anthony had asked some questions to some friends in the business world and a mass of paperwork files and links rolled up in the foyer of their office complex from anonymous donors. Stanton had everything copied then delivered to David Stokes with a note in big letters saying DEAL WITH THIS YOURSELF. Stokes locked himself in his office, studied and checked the plot and two hours later Forbes’ son was arrested for fraud and tax evasion on a massive scale. Stanton had already hacked into the ASIO security system and was monitoring Jean Forbes’ contacts. When the press got hold of the story it went worldwide in minutes and Jean Forbes’ lines of contact went berserk. There was one immediate response that interested Stanton from the Herat mountain region of Afghanistan, hastily and mistakenly sent on open channels of wireless email: Jean, this is serious, I will fix this myself and select interim control from the staff. 4.00 am tomorrow. Sydney. Peter.