by J. P. Lane
The man approached the conference table, astute eyes scanning the group of three as he shook hands with the Deputy Prime Minister and then the Ministers of Tourism and Finance. The two ministers knew him by reputation, but had never met him until now. He took his seat at the table as the Deputy Prime Minister quickly got down to the business at hand.
“I think there’s no reason that we can’t begin without delay.”
“Is this room safe?” the man inquired looking around warily.
“Perfectly safe,” Margaret Thomas told him. “No staff enters this room unless invited by me. In case you’re wondering why this meeting wasn’t scheduled for after office hours, we thought it better to have it at this time so as not to arouse suspicion.”
The Deputy Prime Minister handed a folder to each. He turned to the first page of a report and waited for the others to follow suit. More for the benefit of the visitor than the ministers he explained, “What you will see here is an outline of Plan APM. As you’ll notice, it’s largely in coded language. In the unlikely event anyone should stumble upon this information, it will be impossible to make head or tail of it.” Giving the Minister of Finance an appreciative smile, he added, “I think Margaret has covered all the bases as far as keeping our plan under wraps is concerned.”
“There’s nothing on any computer, is there?’ the man asked.
“All computer files have been already discarded. You probably won’t wish to be burdened with some of this information, but since this will be our last meeting, please bear with us while Margaret walks us through the security details for that day.”
The Minister of Finance rose and went over to a chalkboard. “This is phase one of the plan,” she explained as she began scribbling. “Gentlemen, here’s what the security on the day in question looks like.” Their eyes followed her hand as it flew across the chalkboard.
Phase 1: Security
Capital building
a. 4 police special forces at entrance
b. 2 police special forces inside entrance
c. 4 police special forces in assembly hall
d. 2 police special forces rear of building
Motorcade
a. front, 1 armored escort vehicle manned by 4 special forces
b. back, same
Opportunity
transition from car to building
Quietly, the man appraised the ministers he had just met. Having investigated them thoroughly, he was aware of their strengths and weaknesses. At his request, dossiers containing information about every aspect of their lives had been created for him. He glanced from the Minister of Tourism to the Minister of Finance. There was not much he didn’t know about her, except what motivated her. That was information he would have to live without. He was obliged to trust the Deputy Prime Minister’s judgment concerning her. The other was a simpler matter – an educated man, a good family man, and a man of integrity. He was a rare breed these days. And as far as getting the job done, he had proven himself to be an effective Minister of Tourism despite all odds.
“Where will our man be positioned?” he asked, his attention once again focused on the tedious security details.
Margaret produced a photo of a five-story building opposite the capital building. “Right here in these law offices.” She indicated a window on the fifth floor with her marker.
“And who is delivering the package to him in London?”
The minister halted uncomfortably. “I can’t remember the person’s name off the top of my head,” she answered evasively. Seeing the man’s doubtful look she quickly added, “But I can get that information to you if you like.”
The man chose not to pursue it. He was fully aware delegation required a degree of trust, if only through necessity.
“If I can move on,” Margaret resumed, hastily replacing the photograph of the five-story building with a frontal shot of the capital building. “The meeting starts at two. Our man will be in place before that. The Prime Minister’s car will pull up here – in front of these steps.”
“How will our man gain access to the law offices?” the man asked.
“Easy as apple pie,” Allan smiled slyly. “An appointment with an attorney.”
“Not bad work. Though he’ll be there for more than a meeting with an attorney,” the man smiled back knowingly.
“Are we through with Phase One?” Allan asked returning his attention to the Minister of Finance.
“Yes, I think that wraps up Phase One.”
“Then I suggest we move on to Phase Two.”
Allan began. “I think we have a pretty solid plan in place for Phase Two. But it would be unwise, let’s say indelicate, to put it into motion for at least a few weeks following Phase One. Some pretense of confusion has to be maintained. Of the existing cabinet members, twelve, including those present here today, will remain in office. The other two in question will be replaced by vote. We are pretty confident we’ll get those votes.” He turned to the other ministers. “As we all know, the Prime Minister has the power to fire any member of his cabinet, but with the elimination of the Prime Minister, we need to be careful of political fallout. We also have to make absolutely certain Sterling and McCloud are effectively removed. Our associate here has some thoughts on that particular matter.”
The ministers of Finance and Tourism looked at the man expectantly.
He reached for the glass of water in front of him and took a sip before beginning. “We’re all in agreement indictment of the two ministers in question would serve no purpose. We don’t know how deep this thing runs. It could well be that were Sterling and McCloud indicted, someone else would fill their shoes quickly enough. Judging from all reports, it could be any number of people. What I think we need to do is throw them into complete panic.”
“Create panic?” How would we create panic?” the Minister of Tourism asked dubiously.
“Simple. Fabricate a threat that would lead them to believe it came from the inside, from whoever they’re doing business with. What I propose is bribes, for want of a better word.”
“Bribes?” Margaret asked uncertainly.
The man gave Margaret a half smile. “That’s right, Madam Minister, bribes. That not uncommon thing that oils the wheels of too many businesses in this country.”
Margaret eyed him skeptically. “If our assessment of the size of those shipments is correct, these men would be making tens of millions. What size bribes are you thinking of?”
“Well, I don’t know if I can quite match their cut of what we suspect may be a hundred tons of cocaine, give or take. But I think considering the events that are about to unfold, ten million each would be considered a very attractive offer.”
There was a prolonged silence, interrupted only by the sound of the air conditioning system kicking on. The Minister of Tourism laced his fingers together. He had to admit he was taken aback. It was no secret their no-longer-anonymous associate was well heeled, but twenty million was a substantial amount.
Margaret broke the silence. “Sir, I’m having difficulty coming to terms with your offer. You have financed the entire operation, including a hefty payment for the services of our man in London. I don’t wish to appear to be questioning your motives, but why are you doing this?”
The man had anticipated their skepticism. “In case there’s any misunderstanding, I wish to make it clear I have no intention of seeking influence over the governance of this island,” he said with eyes hardened on Margaret. “Having got that out of the way, I’ll answer your question as to why I’m doing this. It’s because the house needs to be cleaned obviously. If you can think of any other way to achieve that, I’m open to listening.”
Allan’s face tensed. He glanced at the other two ministers deliberating whether he had miscalculated their response. What had been put forward seemed simple enough. And in his judgment, it would be effective. Thus far, there was no better plan, and they were running out of time.
An awkward moment passed before the
Minister of Tourism cleared his throat and addressed the man. “Perhaps it would be helpful if we could better understand your thinking,” he suggested.
The man leaned forward, his eyes earnest as he looked at each in turn. “The bottom line is whatever we do, absolutely no doubt can be left in anyone’s mind that this action was undertaken by an overseas drug partner. My guess is they’re doing business with the Echevarría Cartel, though there’s no way to prove that.”
“What led you to such a conclusion?” the minister asked with interest.
“They virtually control the Colombian trade now, and they seem to have an elaborate network from what I’ve learned.”
“How did you find this out?” Allan asked.
“There’s little information that isn’t readily available if you know where to look. The world has become an open book, thanks to the blessing of the Internet. Though admittedly there are some who may see it as a curse.”
They all laughed. Margaret rushed on to her next question. “How would we go about creating threats?”
“We’ll have to give that some thought. I suppose it could be as simple as a threatening message of some sort. We can’t exactly put the cartel’s signature on such a communication, but there can be a strong insinuation the message is from them. And if it turns out the Echevarría Cartel is not involved, the effect will remain the same,” he shrugged.
“The other thing is we can’t take the risk of Sterling and McCloud misconstruing it as a personal vendetta against the Prime Minister,” Allan added. “It has to be made clear the threat also pertains to them.”
“I’m still a bit skeptical about the bribes working,” Margaret said, coming back to her original point.
“Ten million a piece may seem like throwing small change their way,” the man smiled wryly. “But never fear. It’s enough to keep them out of mischief – for a while at least. The arms of the narcotics industry reach far beyond Colombia as you well know.”
There was silence again as each of the ministers was lost in their own thoughts. Anxiously, Allan searched their faces for any sign of agreement. The Minister of Tourism sat pondering for a while. The man’s suggestion almost seemed too simple, yet it could very well work, he decided. It was actually brilliant in its simplicity. “I think we have as good a plan as we’ll ever come up with considering the time constraints. I say let’s go with it,” he said.
Allan turned to Margaret, “Are you in agreement?”
“Yes,” Margaret answered firmly, “I think we have a plan.”
NINETEEN
Allan stood talking quietly with the Minister of Tourism while Margaret fed the last pages of sensitive information into the shredder on a table against the wall. John Boyd echoed her sentiments as he told Allan, “That proposal took me by surprise. Did you know about it before hand?”
“I have to confess I did,” Allan admitted apologetically. “I’m sorry I failed to keep you and Margaret in the loop, but it came up just a few days ago. I figured since we were meeting today, you might as well hear first hand what he had to say.”
Margaret chimed in. “I trust your judgment Allan, but if I didn’t, I’d have to wonder about his motive for such extreme generosity. Twenty million is a lot of money, even if you have money to throw around.”
Realizing any further discussion about the matter was pointless, John Boyd looked at his watch. “I have to get back to the Ministry. Think I’ll call it a day.”
“Yes, I think it’s time to wrap it up,” Allan agreed. He noticed Margaret’s troubled expression. “Margaret, you look unhappy. Are you all right?”
“As all right as I can be now everything’s finally in place. I have to confess I’m a little frightened, Allan.”
John went over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “If we’re to be honest about it, we’re all frightened. I just wish to God there was another way, but there isn’t. If there’s a bright side, it’s there’s hope for the future. Let’s try and focus on that in the coming weeks. It’s out of our hands now, Margaret. It’s as good as done.”
Margaret went to her office as they left. She felt drained. This last meeting had taken its toll and her usual implacable strength was sapped. She gazed at the photos of her son and daughter on her desk. Lauren and her son were only a month apart in age. They were now both in their thirties, but with a lifetime still ahead of them. What did they have to look forward to unless drastic measures were taken? They’d most likely end up living in the hell of a drug-economized dictatorship or be forced to emigrate. She glanced at the clock on her desk realizing it was after midnight in London. Lauren would already have delivered the package. It was as good as done, as John had said. All that was left was to wait.
She remembered the first election when she, Erick and Allan ran together. They had been jubilant when they won. Those first years had been filled with promise. As the country’s new Minister of Finance, her vision had been to turn the sagging economy around. Her first step was an intensive public relations campaign to solicit foreign investors who had been scared off in droves by the previous administration’s leftist leanings. Erick had been the force that drove their party to power. Charismatic and persuasive, he had been the idol of the people. Without Erick, they would not have stood a chance of winning an election against a party, which had been entrenched for decades. It was hard to believe it had all come down to the meeting that had just ended.
It was also hard to believe five months had flown by since she had requested the fateful meeting with Allan and John. Something of monumental proportions had been brought to her attention and they were the only political colleagues with whom she felt she could share such burdensome information. The unlikely courier of the highly classified and urgent message had been her husband, Rich.
“What’s this?” Margaret had asked as Rich came home from work and handed her the sealed manila envelope. “My guess is as good as yours. It was delivered to my office by a police officer. As you can see, it’s addressed to you and explicitly says Private & Confidential.” Fatigued by a long day, Margaret put the envelope aside. She decided whatever it was would have to wait until she could give it her undivided attention.
She was sitting on her breakfast porch the following morning when she at last got around to the envelope. Her eyes widened as she opened it.
Dear Margaret,
I know this is highly unusual, but I ask that you destroy this letter immediately after reading it. You will understand the reason for this request after seeing the enclosed report, which is strictly off the record. I’ve also enclosed two CDs that will confirm what’s in the report.
I had considered meeting with you about this matter, but decided not to. Being seen together could be potentially dangerous for us both considering the circumstances outlined in my report. Again, I underscore the need for utmost confidentiality.
We have been friends for a long time and I trust whatever course of action you choose to take, you will keep my safety in mind. We are living in uncertain times. As CID chief, no one knows this better than I.
My best to Rich.
As always,
Robert
Margaret hurriedly began to read the report. When she had finished reading it, she went inside and turned on her CD player. Checking to see no one was around, she slid one of the CDs in. As she listened, Margaret paled.
It was a week later when Margaret pulled into the driveway of the Deputy Prime Minister’s residence. As she got out of her car, John Boyd pulled up behind her. “There had better be a good reason for canceling my golf game,” the Minister of Tourism said jokingly.
Margaret did not smile. “Trust me when I say there’s a very good reason, Minister,” she replied soberly.
Allan was waiting at the door. Without ado, he led them through the living room to his study. He indicated a chair for Margaret to sit. Her face was a mask of gravity as she looked from Allan to John Boyd. “The country is in a severe crisis,” she stated flatly. Slightly ta
ken aback by her statement, Allan and John waited for her to continue.
Although she spoke evenly, there was urgency in Margaret’s voice as she said, “We’ve known for some time there is a massive corruption problem in certain areas of government, but what I’m about to share with you is beyond the pale. Gentlemen, I’m afraid our Prime Minister is involved in narcotics trading on a grand scale.”
“Where did this information come from?” Allan asked incredulously.
“Chief Inspector Palmer. I have to trust that stays with us. As it stands, his life may already be in jeopardy.” She paused. “So may ours.”
“Allan,” Margaret asked ending the disbelieving silence, “Is there a CD player here?”
Nonplussed, Allan replied, “Yes, yes, in the living room.” He got up and led the way.
Margaret pulled two CDs from an envelope. She handed one to Allan. “I think these wiretaps say it all,” she said grimly. Allan inserted the first CD. Together, they listened.
E.F. Allan and those other two are becoming worrisome.
F.S. You mean Boyd and Margaret Thomas?
E.F. Affirmative. They’ve become a bit too vocal for comfort.
F.S. I know. Allan has really been giving me the heat.
E.F. They have to be stopped. We can’t have them working against us.
F.S. What are you trying to say?
E.F. We’re going to have to consider the alternative, unsavory as you might find it.
F.S. I’m not comfortable with that idea, Erick. We’ll never get away with it.
The recording came to an end. Margaret handed Allan the second CD. Visibly shaken, the Deputy Prime Minister took it from her and played it.