‘Tom, I’ve had a rough night, haven’t eaten since your sumptuous lettuce sandwich, and am just getting over the shock of being confronted by a covert terrorist. If you don’t mind I’ll have some breakfast and then tell you the story. Until then, why don’t you work out a plan and explain to me how you are going to get this Temba guy to collude with us in entrapping these activists.’
Tom hadn’t seen Nathalie in this mood before. She was obviously really pissed off with him for not keeping Joseph at bay. Either that or she was suffering from lack of sleep.
They ate their breakfast in silence and Nathalie downed three cups of espresso before she spoke again. Then she told Tom of the events in the kraal headman’s hut. She was still cross that Tom hadn’t given her warning about Joseph’s unannounced entry. She still had palpitations recalling the event. But fortunately the crew had kept cool heads and it had all worked out. They had got the footage she had come for and a possible lead for further contact.
‘That’s where you come in. We’ve not had time to talk about your liaison with Temba Murauzi. You’ve told me he’s on board but not any details.’
‘Liaison, I…’
‘I don’t mean that sort of liaison, I’m not interested in your private life. How much does he know about what we want to do in Morocco.’
‘It wasn’t like that anyway.’ Nathalie’s febrile demeanour was rubbing off on Tom. He too was suffering from lack of sleep. ‘He’s agreed to take up the position with Biomedivac in their laboratory. At the moment he thinks our filming is just for talking about antidotes for a possible Ebola bioterrorist attack.’
‘We’re in Harare for another afternoon. Do you think it’s worth hooking up and mentioning that we’re trying to snare a terrorist group? You could persuade him that he would be doing society a great favour if he would pretend to supply them with a protective antidote for their Ebola carriers.’
Tom stared out of the window. Traffic, the sun glinting from their paintwork, idled past in the street. Knots of people milled on the pavement; casual conversations, a far cry from the task that Nathalie was asking him to do.
‘Too fast, too soon,’ he said. ‘We could frighten him off. He might even back out of the Moroccan trip. No, I think it best to tackle him when he’s there. I’ve not known him long, need more time to get his confidence. Besides, outside of his own country I think he’d open up more.’
Nathalie thought for a while.
‘You’re right, stupid of me. Also stupid of me for playing you along back there. I was tired and grumpy. I’m sorry, there was no way you could have done anything else with Joseph and, besides, it worked out okay. You’ve done a good job with Temba, he’s your contact and I trust you to play him in the right time in the right place.’
‘Not sure, “play” is the right word. If this is a means of catching those guys red-handed, the little I do know of Temba, he might take part.’
‘Yeah, corny phrasing. I’m still a bit caught up in all of this cloak and dagger stuff. You’re right, we’ve got to keep level-headed on this one. I think this film could be really good but I mustn’t lose sight of the fact that, although, as Lloyd would put it, this is a small-time amateur bunch, they could be really dangerous. My problem now is, if and when to tell the authorities. And which authorities? Zimbabwean or the UK? It’s a bit out of my pay grade. I’ll need to speak with Geoff.’
Manny entered the coffee shop with a ‘top up’. Nathalie couldn’t help wondering what he had said to the WEXA people who had questioned the hotel about Nathalie’s behaviour and her trip to the police station.
‘Sleeping dogs,’ she said aloud.
Tom screwed up his face in bewilderment.
‘Think we should get a nap,’ she said. ‘It’s an early flight to Heathrow tomorrow.’
Twenty-five
Stefanie brought in a tray of sandwiches and placed them in the middle of the boardroom table. This was the first time that the full pre-production team had been present. Nick was in one corner rocking idly in his chair. Nathalie and Tom were seated on the other side of the table with a place between them that was soon filled by Stefanie. One empty chair at the end waited for Geoff.
‘That bugger’s always late,’ moaned Nick, grabbing a sandwich from the tray.
‘He’s on his way,’ explained Stefanie. ‘Take it as a good sign. He’s been viewing the rushes with Bob, if he didn’t like them you can be sure he would have cut it short and be banging on this table right now.’
Nathalie leaned around Stefanie to address Tom. ‘Bob’s the editor on this project, lucky to have him; he’s really good.’
The boardroom was windowless. Set up for video viewings. A large pull-down screen at one end and a projector setup high at the other. The lighting was warm and convivial but nothing like the natural sunlight that was streaming down on London’s streets.
‘Another idiot who spends all his days in a darkened room,’ carped Nick. ‘I don’t know why Geoff wants me here, unless it’s to apologise for cramming my legs into economy seats meant for…’
He was brought up by a glare from Stefanie. ‘I know, I know, bloody political correctness; all I was going to say was, for people who aren’t six foot three.’ He reached for another sandwich. ‘Well if the miser doesn’t turn up soon I’ll eat all his bloody sandwiches.’
‘So which miser paid for these bloody sandwiches?’ said Geoff striding through the door. ‘Anyway, you can have them all. Bloody brilliant. The rushes that is.’
The atmosphere in the room changed. Tom breathed a sigh of relief, Nathalie a quiet smile and Stefanie rose to charge Geoff’s plate with his favourite salt beef rolls.
‘Thank you Stefanie, much appreciated; that’s if Nick doesn’t want them of course.’
Nick stopped rocking on his chair and placed his arms on the high-gloss table. ‘Enough of the small talk. We gather you like the footage; do you mean our Java effort or Nathalie’s African stuff?’
‘Both. I think we’ve got the makings of a good film. Even the wobbly scope police video tells a great story, especially if Bob frames it using his magic box of tricks. And, Nathalie, I think you should be looking over your shoulder; Tom’s footage of that Indonesian village is quite classy.’
Tom looked with discomfort at Nathalie. He was about to say something and then thought better of it.
‘That sounds great Tom,’ interjected Nathalie, in an attempt to cover his embarrassment. ‘You should come down to the edit suite this afternoon, we could view it together.’ She turned to Geoff. ‘How’s the audio on the WEXA interview?’
‘As one would expect from a Thompson shoot. The whole scene is very atmospheric, eerily threatening. As I said I think we’ve got the makings of a good documentary. Nick’s said that the Surabaya police don’t want us to use their stuff for at least two weeks. But that’s fine, I called the channel from the taxi on my way back. They’re happy with a transmission date three weeks from today. Nathalie I’d like you to knock up some blurb for the Radio Times and the other rags. Always think seeing it in print gives a good incentive for finishing on time.’
‘Is that wise Geoff?’ asked Stefanie, noticing the look on Nathalie’s face. ‘From what I understand Nathalie’s got quite a lot more to do. There’s the Moroccan shoot to finalise and I believe she’s not sure yet whether she can set up the sting we are depending on.’
‘If I waited for every occasion a director wanted more time Bagatelle would be demoted to reality TV shows. Find a few mugs who want to be humiliated and shoot it live, shoot it quick. No, if we didn’t stick our neck out we wouldn’t have all these baubles,’ he said waving his arm at the glass cabinet crammed with film awards. ‘Not that I’m looking for glory; they’re the means we get further commissions.’
Nathalie opened her file and handed out a typed agenda to everyone. ‘Thanks for your concern Stefanie, but Geoff’s right, I’d always like more time. Often a tight deadline gets the best out of a film. I can see the shape now b
ut really do need these last pieces of jigsaw. I’ve outlined a to-do list. Now we know the timeline, we need to pull together to see if we can get through it.’
It was quite a long list. Tom wondered how Nathalie had managed to put this together in such a short time. To him the project seemed just a jumble of images and disconnected pieces of story. To Nathalie there was a strong narrative – an investigative film with a beginning, middle and end – with just a few holes to fill in. Realising the urgency of finishing the programme he puzzled at the first item on the agenda.
‘Outreach immunisation video?’
‘Yes, what of it Tom?’
‘Is that important? I thought there was a tight timeline for the documentary, can’t this wait?’
‘Not really Tom. If we don’t get them their video, they might start asking questions.’ She handed Geoff half a dozen or so typed pages. ‘I knocked out a short script on the plane, ought to be about six to eight minutes. Should keep them happy. With a bit of luck they’ll not even see our finished article.’
Tom’s admiration of Nathalie went up even further. Not only had she outlined a completion agenda but she had written a full blown script. ‘How long will it take you to cut it together?’ he asked.
Geoff was glancing at the pages. ‘Needn’t worry about that Tom, I’ve seen some of the footage. If I pass this to Bob he’ll knock it up in no time. We are recording a voice-over tomorrow for one of our other projects, I’ll ask the artist to add this on at the end. Should get it out to them by the end of the week. Okay with you Nathalie?’
‘That would be good, get it out of the way. Tell them that sadly, due to lack of funds, Imunaid is closing down but they are welcome to use the video to look for donations.’
‘I’ll type up a letter,’ said Stefanie, touching Nathalie on the shoulder. ‘I know you feel a bit guilty about using them but knowing Bob’s work, I’m sure the video will really do some good.’
‘Hope so,’ Nathalie straightened in her chair. ‘Now on to item two. Morocco. I understand that Geoff’s got Professor Townes’ permission to film Biomedivac’s plant. Where do we stand on that?’
‘He’s still keen as mustard, even though I’ve told him we’ve got a different programme strand,’ replied Geoff. ‘Given some dates. Problem is, film crew. Stefanie’s done some digging but no one really suitable in Morocco.’
Nathalie turned to Stefanie.
Stefanie shook her head. ‘Sorry, understood you wanted some really glossy high-tech shots of the lab. There are a few bits and pieces but no one we could really trust.’
‘So what’s the solution?’ asked Nathalie.
‘Granada. A really good group of people we’ve used before. I’ve booked tickets for you, Tom and John McCord. Sound and sparks will meet you at the airport with the kit and a vehicle. Taking the Tarifa ferry it’s only about eight hours’ drive to Casablanca. I’ve booked you into a hotel for the night, not swish but it’s got parking. From there it’s only three hours inland to the location. A bit isolated but Professor Townes says he can get you accommodation.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Nathalie. ‘Especially if you can get John. I’m surprised he’s free at such short notice.’
‘Not sure he was but I know he likes to work with you. He says he owes you one for not turning up last time.’
Nathalie recalled the last time. She was making a documentary on the oceans. Hours before a shoot John had been run over; broken ribs and fractured leg, hardly in the position to operate a camera. Another cameraman had to be drafted in at the last moment.
Nick was pushing the crumbs around his plate. ‘So, if I’m not going on this jolly jaunt why am I here?’
‘That’s next thing on the list Nick. While we are in Morocco Tom’s trying to persuade Temba to take part in a sting. I’ve talked to Geoff about this and told him my concern about the legality of entrapment and the dangers of these WEXA guys actually carrying out their threats. He said you knew someone in the security services who we could contact if things got messy.’
Geoff interlocked the fingers of his hands and slowly started to turn one thumb around the other. ‘I said if things get messy. There’s no need to sound any alarms yet. All that we’ve got at present are some masked guys, shouting their mouths off, in a hut in the middle of the African bush. Nothing anyone can do if we shop them now. They’re in Africa for a start and, even with Lloyd’s help, it would be hell of a job to nail them. Now if this thing works, they take the bait and we get them on camera accepting what they think is an antidote for their bioweapon; then perhaps we could warn the authorities to keep an eye out for them.’
Stefanie began to look concerned. ‘Don’t you think we should let Nick warn these people? Imagine it if they really did spread Ebola around the country.’
‘Pointless Stefanie,’ said Nick. ‘They’d just laugh at you. From what I can tell this is a small unknown amateur group, sabre rattling. And besides, what country? The so-called West is a pretty big catchment area.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought a few words in the right ear would hurt. I’ve been told that amateur terrorist groups can be the worst. Unpredictable, no set intelligence plans.’
‘Exactly, unpredictable,’ intervened Geoff. ‘We don’t want anyone causing a stir around our little group before we’ve got this film in the can. Nathalie, what sort of guys are these?’
‘I had two meetings. At the first there was a guy who used quite sophisticated language, although his two compatriots were pretty basic I would say. On the filming day the more sophisticated guy brought another mate along. He seemed to be in charge. Educated voice, classier clothes, expensive watch. Smooth talker. Possibly from the professional classes. Certainly a lot less amateur than the first bunch I met. He could be dangerous.’
‘Which is why we filmed him,’ said Geoff with exasperation. ‘Now if you have no real objections, we’ll carry on until we sniff there’s actually a real indication that they’re going to spread some of this stuff. Then, and only then, we’ll ask Nick to drop the word to the anti-terrorist squad. Okay?’
He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me how you’re going to carry out this sting.’
Nathalie outlined her plan. She would negotiate with Townes to interview his protégé Temba Murauzi in the laboratories. This would make good TV she would tell Townes. Bright African guy explaining how anti-Ebola vaccines worked and how they could be used in a potential bioterrorist attack. She knew that Townes would be nervous about mentioning bioterrorism but she was sure he would come around when he realised that this could be a promotion for governments to stock up on his drug. During the two-day shoot Tom would find an opportunity to talk to Temba. He had struck up some sort of rapport so they had high hopes for a successful outcome. WEXA had already been primed to expect some further help. Temba would meet with them and explain; as a sympathiser, he could provide them with a new effective antidote for their couriers. He had been all over the papers as a star pharmacologist so it should appear quite convincing.
‘So, you’ll wire him with a microphone or, better still, hidden camera and get them admitting to their intent on tape,’ concluded Geoff. ‘Great stuff if you can pull it off. Confident Tom?’
‘He’s a sensitive sort of guy, the real incentive is to tell him that he could stop the deaths of hundreds of innocent people. I’d just need to take it slowly, drip-feed him with information over the two days. Not come out with, “Hey I want you to wear a wire and offer to help some terrorists” as an opener.’
Geoff grinned, ‘It’s a good job we’ve got you doing it rather than Nick then. Which reminds me, I’d like Nick to go with Nathalie to the meeting with Professor Townes tomorrow. We set it up to finalise the arrangements of the Moroccan shoot but Townes phoned this morning.’ He noticed anxiety flashing across Nathalie’s face. ‘Oh don’t worry, the shoot’s still on. Remember I told you that thing about Rob Barnes. Yesterday the British police visited Biomedivac on behalf of their
friends in eastern Java. Wanted to know why their letterhead is on a requisition e-mail. He seems quite worried, I told him that Nick would come over to help out.’
Tom recognised the building as soon as they had turned the corner. The same anonymous looking terraced house with the dirty brick facade. Only the small plaque next to the doorway gave any indication that it had anything to do with the film industry.
‘This is Reels,’ Nathalie started to explain, as she pressed the intercom button. ‘It’s just one of the places that Geoff dry-hires from time to time.’
‘Yes, it’s the place Stefanie showed me when I started.’
‘Oh, you’ve probably met Bob then. Geoff’s chained him down to this grubby little edit suite for the last two months. Don’t know why he puts up with it, plenty of other more swish places around.’
‘Think Stefanie said it was something to do with money.’
‘Geoff’s always moaning about money. Channels wanting films by the yard rather than quality productions. Penny pinching budgets, not like the old days. He goes on and on. He makes enough, you should see his car. What he doesn’t realise is that people like Bob are hard to find. He takes him for granted. One day, he’ll up and leave.’
A fuzzy voice emitted from the intercom. ‘Who’ll up and leave?’
Nathalie realised that she had kept the button down and left the intercom open.
‘Oh, is that you Bob? It’s Nathalie.’
The buzzer sounded and a click indicated that the lock had been automatically opened. Nathalie pushed at the door and the two of them mounted the grimy concrete stairs to the edit suites. As they entered Tom frantically tried to remember what Bob had told him on the last visit. Digitising the rushes, sorting the bins, recording scratch voice-overs. The room reeked of the smell of oriental noodles, reminiscent of Java.
‘Hi,’ said Bob. ‘Sorry about the aroma, Chinese restaurant downstairs. Take a seat, I’ll just finish off this last edit and show you what I’ve done to date.’
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