Scion

by Murray Mcdonald

  Walker thought for a second, conscious he did not want to be on the phone long, even though it was a pay as-you-go phone he’d never used before.

  “Tell her to say she knows who his father was but won’t discuss anymore until they meet face to face.”

  “Will he buy it?”

  “Yes.”

  Both hung up, having been careful not to mention any key words.

  Clark relayed the detail to Rosie before switching her phone back on.

  It rang less than two minutes later.

  “Sorry, I ran out of juice,” explained Rosie.

  “No problem wasn’t sure if it was me or you,” said Kelly, still excited that she was sitting on the phone in a First Class seat on her way to Hong Kong.

  “I’ll just pass you to Scott, hold on.”

  “Hi Rosie,” said Scott cheerily.

  “Hi Scott.”

  “So Rosie, how do you know who I am?”

  “I don’t know you as such but I know who your father was.”

  The silence that followed had Rosie wondering whether the line had been cut off.

  “You know who my father was?” repeated Scott slowly.

  “Yes, but I’m not saying any more over the phone. We need to meet.”

  “But I’m on a plane, I’ve already left the country.”

  “That’s OK, tell me where you’re going and I’ll meet you there,” suggested Rosie.

  Without referring to Kelly, Scott gave her the details. The mention of his father was too much for rational consideration.

  “We’ll be in Kota Kinabalu tomorrow morning at 11.05 a.m., arriving Dragonair from Hong Kong.”

  “I’ll see you there,” promised Rosie before ending the call.

  Clark was ecstatic. The gamble had paid off. Now all they had to do was get to Kota Kinabalu, wherever the hell that was before 11.00 the following morning. He picked up his PDA and checked the flight schedule software and discovered two things - it was a fucking long way away and he had no chance by commercial airline of beating Scott to it.

  His next call was to an air charter brokerage firm he had an account with.

  “I need to get to Kota Kinabalu asap from London.”

  “No problem Sir, just let me check…”

  After a few minutes of clicking at her keyboard the operator returned.

  “It’s very short notice Sir but we can do something.”

  Clark recognised the international code for it’s a fuck you price.

  “We can get you a Gulfstream G550, a very luxurious and comfortable jet that will get you there in thirteen and a half hours. Now would you like the quote to include a return leg?”

  Clark just wished she’d get to the punchline.

  “Is there much of a difference?”

  “Actually no it’s pretty much the same price.”

  “I’m sorry but I am in a hurry here, can you just give me the fucking price?”

  The operator dropped the polite tone.

  “$320,000, Sir.”

  “Holy shit, I don’t want to buy the fucking thing.”

  “Sir do you want the plane or not?”

  Clark had no option.

  “I want it.”

  Clark proceeded to give the woman his account details, an account held by a small private company registered on Grand Cayman, one of the world’s more famous tax hideaways. Known only to himself, the million dollar fund instantly dropped by a third.

  Clark would be in the air within the next sixty minutes and taking the time difference into account, should be landing thirty minutes before Scott.

  Chapter 27

  Walker perked up as Clark relayed what was happening. It was time to get his life back. He knew it was pointless phoning Freeman. He did what he was told. He needed to speak to Sam Baker. He was the only one with the influence to change the others’ minds and he was fairly sure that Sam was the one who would have wanted him dead in the first place. If he could turn Sam, the others would follow.

  Walker purchased a new Pay-As-You-Go phone and inserting the phone charger into the cigarette lighter socket, dialled Baker’s number.

  Sam was in the middle of a breakfast meeting with Chicago’s more influential business owners when his cell phone rang. Not recognising the number, he almost didn’t answer but very few people actually had his number, so he answered.

  “It’s Walker,” said Walker confidently. He wasn’t going to let Sam intimidate him.

  “Hi William, what can I do for you?” asked Sam cheerily with no hint of any animosity. He motioned to his guests that he had to take the call, stood up and walked out of the room.

  “Cut the act Sam. I’ve got you’re man.”

  Finding a quiet corner.

  “Listen you fucking cock sucker, do not fuck with me.”

  “Why? What,you going to do? Kill my wife? Oh sorry, you’ve already done that!”

  “Don’t give me that shit. If you’d wanted her alive you’d have taken her with you. We’ve done you a favour.”

  Walker should have known better, Sam’s mind worked very like his own.

  “Do you want him or not?”

  “Of course,” replied Sam trying to remain calm.

  “Call off your dogs and I’ll make him disappear. I am not a threat to you. I fucked up, you killed my wife. I’ve paid for my error,” reasoned Walker.

  Sam considered Walker’s proposal.

  “Well, whether you’ve been punished or rewarded is debatable. But I’ll call you back with an answer.”

  “I’ll call you back. This phone’s going in the bin. You’ve got 30 minutes.”

  Walker opened the car window and tossed the phone in the nearest bin and put his foot down. He wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

  Sam dialled Ernst.

  “Max Ernst here.”

  “Any news?” barked Sam.

  “I’m sorry Mr Baker, nothing yet but we’ll find them. We know Walker is still in the New York area but as for the target, we’re still looking.”

  “Fuck. I need a conference call, I’ll hold.”

  Ernst knew that meant get the other four on the phone immediately.

  He quickly opened up a secure line and started dialling.

  “Mr Freeman, Mr Baker wishes a conference call immediately.”

  Freeman dismissed everyone from his office and waited.

  Ernst dialled a number in London,

  “Mr Russell, Mr Baker wishes a conference immediately.”

  Charles Russell was CEO of Transcon EMEA, covering Europe, the Middle East and Africa. Charles dismissed his lunch guests and waited.

  Ernst dialled a number in Geneva.

  “Mr DuPont, Mr Baker wishes a conference immediately.”

  Andrew DuPont was the Chief Financial Officer of Transcon Global and the CEO of Transcon Banking and had within his control more monies than any other individual ever born.

  Andrew left the conference room where he had been holding court and went back to his office to wait.

  Ernst’s final call was to Hong Kong.

  “Mr Astor, Mr Baker wishes a conference immediately,”

  Peter Astor was CEO of Asia, Australasia and South America. However, with the explosion in the Eastern economies, particularly China and India, the South American division was about to merge with the North American one, which would create Transcon Americas under Henry’s control.

  Peter moved from his lounge to his study and waited.

  Ernst with all five now holding pressed a button and instantly connected the five most powerful men in the world. Five men who had known each other since University. Five men who had taken an oath to do whatever it took to rule the world. Five men who had killed to get what they wanted. Five men who would do anything to protect their world.

  Thirty minutes later, Walker called Sam back.

  “If you get it done with no more issues, you have a deal,” said Sam.

  “Thank you,” replied a relieved Walker.
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  Chapter 28

  United Airlines 922 powered down the 11,500 foot runway of Dulles International Airport. Ashley Jones had not stopped since leaving the scene of her kidnapping earlier in the morning. A race back to her house had been followed by a mad dash back to the airport to catch her flight at 9.31 a.m. As she took seat 2A, at the rear of the First Class section, she kicked herself for all the things she hadn’t done. She hadn’t cancelled her BA tickets nor checked in with her boss before leaving in case there had been any new developments. Although she re-assured herself that he would have called her had there been any.

  She also realised that she had told the policewoman she would already be there. Damn, she thought. Ashley didn’t mind spending $11,000 on her tickets for First Class but she did mind the exorbitant cost of using the sky phones, ten bucks a minute was just wrong. She knew herself it was ridiculous but principles were principles. She reluctantly lifted the phone and placed the call.

  “Parkside Police Station.”

  “Can I speak to Detective Sergeant Kelly, please?”

  “I’m sorry she’s not available just now, would you like to leave a message?”

  “Yes please, Can you tell her Rosie said she’ll arrive tonight and see her tomorrow. Goodbye.”

  Ashley’s abrupt end to the call caught the operator off guard. The mention of the name Rosie would set off a number of procedures but due to her hanging up, would fail. All he could do was dial Kelly’s number and reaching her voicemail, leave the message.

  Twenty eight seconds thought Ashley checking her watch. $10 per minute and $10 connection, $20, she’d check her statement. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d tried to stiff her for more money. With nothing left to do, she reclined in the large armchair and tried to sleep.

  ***

  Kelly finished her champagne and looked across to see if Scott was still catatonic. He had not spoken to her since the call with Rosie had ended half an hour earlier. They had been allocated seats 4D and 4G, side by side, and thanks to the space in First Class they were offered some privacy from the other passengers.

  “Are you sure you’re OK?” asked Kelly.

  Scott simply nodded, his thoughts firmly on what Rosie had said. She knew who his dad was, past tense. The dad he never knew would remain so. Scott had always harboured the dream that one day his father would find his long lost son.

  A hand appeared on his thigh, startling him. He looked up to see a concerned Kelly looking straight at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You can tell me what’s wrong, it won’t go any further,” she said reassuringly.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” he said despondently, “I only know you as DS Kelly, I don’t even know your first name.”

  “And I don’t know your surname.”

  “I’ve told you before I don’t have one. And don’t you have a first name?”

  “Jane.”

  Scott smiled for the first time since the call.

  “Jane?” he looked into her eyes.

  “It suits you, you look like a Jane.”

  Kelly let the silence fall easily between them. She could see Scott was struggling to decide whether he could trust her and she felt he should make his mind up himself.

  After what seemed an eternity, Scott looked at her and said, “OK.”

  “OK, what?” asked Kelly.

  “I’ll tell you about me but it’s reciprocal, you tell me about you.”

  “Deal.”

  “OK, you first,” said Scott smiling.

  Jane smiled and rose to his challenge without complaint. “My name’s Jane Kelly, my dad was a policeman and his father before him was a policeman. My mother was a housewife. I have no hobbies or interests, boyfriends, husbands or lovers. I live for my work. It consumes me.”

  “Is that it? Your life in a nutshell?”

  “All twenty eight years,” replied Kelly with a sigh.

  “What a waste,” said Scott quietly.

  Kelly took offence at her life being referred to in that way and turned away.

  “No, the husbands, boyfriends or lovers, you’re a very attractive woman, Miss Jane Kelly.”

  The redness came quickly as Kelly blushed at the compliment.

  “Thank you,” she replied bashfully. “So come on then, what about you?”

  “Not quite as simple. My mother and I were shipwrecked just off the coast of the island of Borneo. I don’t know why we were the only survivors but can only assume it may have been that my mother could swim. Amazingly, most of the seafarers in that part of the world can’t. Anyway, I’m told we spent days at sea before finally washing ashore on a small remote island. The islanders were wonderful and immediately took us under their wing. My mother was very weak and didn’t recover. She died a few weeks later. I was only three months old. The islanders had offered many times to take my mother to the mainland for help but she had begged them not to, only saying that her life and mine were in danger. She begged them to raise me as their own and made them promise her that they would. Not thinking she would die, the elder of the island agreed, thinking it would calm her down and let her rest. The next day she died, it was almost as though his promise allowed her to die in peace. The elder, having made the promise, could and would not renege on it. I was taken into his house and raised as one of his own and am in his eyes his son. The only details my mother left were the name of a lawyer in Singapore. Papa, my adoptive father, contacted the lawyer but he simply took contact details for Papa and informed him the only thing he had was a letter that I would receive at a later date. He knew however it did not contain any detail as to who my mother was nor who my father was.”

  “God, I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s OK.”

  “But Rosie knows who your father is?”

  “Was.”

  “Oh.”

  “But the islanders are wonderful and treat me as their own,” said Scott more cheerfully.

  “So what’s the link to the Prime Minister?”

  “That’s something we can’t discuss but let’s just say I sort of work for him.”

  “Oh, OK,” replied Kelly struggling to hide her disappointment.

  “Time for sleep, I think,” replied Scott reclining his seat into a fully flat bed, the discussion having reached a natural end.

  Kelly wasn’t ready for sleep, her mind still racing as to who the mysterious Scott really was. With no one else to talk to, she picked up the sky phone and dialled her messaging service. She had three messages. One told her Harris was OK, nothing more than a slight concussion, her second was her mum asking when she’d be home for dinner and the third was the message Rosie had left via the police station which told her nothing more than she already knew which was strange.

  Hong Kong was a blur. As the doors opened, Scott and Kelly had to sprint to catch their connection, jumping on board the Dragonair flight with only seconds to spare. Scott was becoming increasingly nervous as he took his seat. In three hours, he would find out who his father was.

  Chapter 29

  As flight UA922 taxied to the jetway at Terminal Three, Ashley switched her phone on. The familiar welcome tone from Nokia was followed by the tell tale messaging sound. She quickly opened the text and found she had three voice messages. The gaze from the stewardess warned her to not even try using the phone before the door was opened but Ashley couldn’t care less. Her DIA badge sat ready to ward off even the most scary of the stuck up waitresses. As she dialled the number and put the phone to her ear the stewardess immediately rose and walked towards her. Ashley let her get all the way next to her before flashing the badge and mouthing ‘back off’.

  As she listened, the first message caught her attention. One of her colleagues had called just after her flight had left to ask if she had any idea where Jackson could be. He hadn’t been seen since he had climbed aboard a mysterious helicopter just after he had spoken to Ashley. Ashley knew this was major. Jackson was head of the SSB, the most
clandestine unit of all the US’s intelligence operations. His location was tracked at all times. If he had been kidnapped and was being tortured, the lives of hundreds of agents were at risk. Alarm bells would be ringing across the intelligence community as they tried to understand which operations could be compromised and decisions made as to which of those should potentially be cancelled.

  The next call she hoped would tell her he was OK and it had all been a huge misunderstanding. Unfortunately, it was not. The next call was actually concern over where she was. She had not responded to the earlier contact and she was now considered missing. Could she please call as soon as she received the message as a matter of urgency. Oh shit, Ashley thought. That call had been over four hours earlier. Before calling in, she checked the third message, hoping Jackson had been found.

  It wasn’t, the third message was the most shocking of all. It was one of her colleagues calling to let her know that Jackson’s body had been found. One bullet had killed him instantly and the time of death suggested it was not long after his disappearance. Concern over operational integrity had been reduced but not discarded. However, Ashley’s disappearance was raising eyebrows and lots of questions were raining down from on high. The message went on to say that even the Secretary of Defence had been asking questions. The final comment from her colleague was that there was some very strange shit going on and wherever Ashley was, she should watch her back.

  Ashley walked off the plane in a daze. The news of her boss’ death was hitting her hard. She didn’t even notice the two men standing at the end of the jetway, at least not until they each grabbed one of her arms.

  “What the hell are you doing?” protested Ashley loudly struggling against the men’s grip. They were taking no risks and were most definitely going to leave bruises behind as they refused to let go.

  “Don’t do that Miss Jones, there’s no need to make a scene.”

  “Make a scene! Let go of me right now!”

  “We’re FBI officers,” the man on her right flashed his credentials. “Please don’t struggle.”