Oil & Corruption

by Gareth Flood

  The problem they had faced was property rights. The way for them to create a dynasty for themselves was to actually own the land that the pipeline sat on. They could sort the pipeline out easily enough going through Russia, but not all the way through the Eastern European countries.

  They recognised that Russia would only be able to push so far in the upcoming climate of instability that would characterise the late 80’s and early 90’s. The countries that they drew the line through on a large map in the Kremlin still technically held their own borders and owned the property within their countries – even under the old USSR structure that was already crumbling around them. The group had initially looked to acquire the land under guises of Soviet government departments, but they were being stymied by a myriad of bureaucracy in response from the opposing governments, who were getting ever bolder as the USSR weakened. The opposing governments knew they just had to hold off long enough till the whole corrupt communist system collapsed and they would break away to independence.

  The clandestine group, far from becoming discouraged, saw how this could work in their favour. It would have been a losing bet to force it on the countries only to have the infrastructure nationalised the moment the country became fully independent.

  They foresaw that many of the lands the pipeline would go through would try to go the way of Europe, even eventually joining the European Union. For this to be the case, if they followed democratic systems, the countries would have to open up the purchase of property to individuals and even investing companies - domestic and foreign.

  The group set about preparing to transfer vast swathes of state assets to themselves as Russia changed – oil companies, manufacturing and mining interests. This would provide them with the resources and funds. Once this was in place, they set about speeding up the fall of the USSR so they could begin what was to become the greatest land and asset grab in the history of the world that did not involve the art of war or a treaty signed by the British Empire.

  As the Eastern European countries became fledgling democracies, vast swathes of land began to be purchased by a web of investing companies, which could not be traced back to anyone in Russia. There was still enough corruption in the new Governments to get planning permission for the type of construction required by waving a few thousand dollars at the right people and ministers.

  Troublesome government employees who objected were simply removed in the night, never to be seen again.

  The final piece of the puzzle was to gain a reliable partner in the west who had access to distribution systems for the oil and oil products in the Western countries.

  An existing Western Oil Major who already owned the infrastructure required, fitted the bill perfectly.

  Once this was done, construction of the pipeline could begin.

  Making billions was quite simple really. With the right partners and the right amount of greed, anything was possible. The clandestine Russian group was in the final phase of implementation of their plan. Nothing or no-one had been allowed to inhibit their progress so far and they were so close now – it didn’t matter who had to be killed, whether it was the CEO of the largest oil company in the world or the Vice President of Russia - nothing would stand in their way of reaching their objective.

  28

  Madrid

  Morning sun broke over Madrid, turning the whole city a kind of paella yellow.

  Jonathan and Julie both admired the golden light out of the café window. They had checked out of the hotel early and walked to a local breakfast spot for a quick coffee and whatever was closest to some form of pastry.

  Jonathan took her hand in his and pulled her attention back to the present moment.

  ‘Big day.’ he said, smiling. ‘Big day, I’m excited.’

  For the first time since his torrid ordeal had begun, he felt on the front foot of what was happening to him. He had woken up early, regrettably left Julie to sleep a while longer, and sat down at the hotel desk to sketch out a plan on paper.

  During his planning for the day had intuitively fallen back on his consultant training and begun to approach the day like it was a consulting project plan. He started with the fundamental question that the project needed answering: Who was trying to kill him and why? This was followed by questions to build a plan: Who could help uncover the fundamental question? The Nasty Arab and One Crazy Hebe. Why would they help? To gain insider information on the largest oil company in the world. How would this mutually beneficial exchange take place? He would have to personally get in front of them and quickly demonstrate he was a trustworthy source and had something they would want.

  With all this clear and organised in his mind, he was able to sketch out and action plan to get in front of his targets.

  Through taking action he felt a part of the course of events, which was infinitely better than sitting still, just waiting for a bullet to enter his body somewhere.

  They got directions to a nearby internet café from the restaurant and walked there to look up the best and most luxurious hotels in Madrid. The search was easy and narrowed it down to three hotels of five star quality in the central district. They printed the pages and took a bus to the city centre.

  They had decided to leave the clapped out old Renault 5 they had brought from France at the back of the hotel. It had French license plates on it but they were also wary of the thing breaking down or being involved in an accident, which could draw unwanted official attention to them, so they opted for the bus instead.

  As they sat close together on a forward facing bus seat, the suburbs began to give way to taller buildings and offices.

  Jonathan explained his plan.

  ‘I was thinking about this early this morning.’ he started. ‘The difficult part when we get to the first hotel is how to ask what we are looking for. I mean, asking about Arabs and Jewish looking gentlemen at reception wouldn’t go down well.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Julie replied, nodding her head. ‘So what are you thinking?’

  ‘Well,’ Jonathan continued, with a glint in his eye. ‘Who knows everything that’s going on in a hotel and who sees everybody go in and out? The bellboy. We’ll stop at the shopping district and get you a load of big fashion bags and a pair of sunglasses. The plan is that you go into the hotel looking weighed down by the bags and cast a plaintive look at the concierge desk. A pretty lady like you, sure enough, the bellboy will come out to assist with the bags. I’ll call ahead at the hotel and ask to be put through to room four zero two or something. Just so we can establish such a room number exists. Otherwise, again, it will look suspicious.’

  Julie nodded again. ‘Sounds okay so far.’ she said.

  ‘Right, you go up to the room with the bellboy but as you get to the room door, you say you’ll take it from there.’

  ‘I could also pretend to take a call on a cellular phone we get one.’ Julie suggested.

  ‘Great idea,’ Jonathan said, ‘then give him a huge tip and ask if he knows of any Arab men staying in the penthouse. Then go back to talking on the phone while pretending to search through your purse for the room key.’

  ‘That bit could be a little risky but it might work, bellboys don’t usually challenge people who look like guests in these kind of places.’ Julie said.

  ‘Exactly. He will leave and when he does, you go down the stairs and out any back way you can find, some kind of fire exit that’s not alarmed. Maybe even through the kitchen.’

  ‘Sure I can sort something out.’ Julie said.

  ‘Good. I will go in and sit in the lobby with a newspaper five minutes before you walk in. This way, I can watch you go up in the elevator while checking for anything suspicious.’

  She took his hands in hers.

  ‘Jonathan,’ she smiled, ‘that is so sweet.’

  He smiled back, ‘It’s nothing. I just want you to be as safe as possible in all this – ooh! We need to get off the bus here.’ he said, looking out the window, ‘It’s the shopping district.’


  An hour later they were ready for the mission.

  Julie was kitted out in a long crème overcoat and laden with designer bags; the piece de la resistance was her oversize Hollywood sunglasses. With her hair flowing over her shoulders, she really did look movie star material.

  They had a final coffee in the café across the plaza from the hotel to steel themselves.

  ‘Right.’ Jonathan said with firmness, as he tucked a folded newspaper under his arm while swigging the last of an espresso. ‘I’m going in. Wait five minutes and enter the lobby. Then just go through the plan. Okay.’

  ‘Okay, chief.’ Julie said as she did a mock salute. This made Jonathan smile. He picked up her hand, kissed it, then spun on his heel to head towards the hotel.

  Julie put on her sunglasses and watched him walk across the square. She tilted the glasses forward to get a better view of him walking away. She tracked him as he walked into the shade of the street on the opposite side of the square and into the hotel.

  Julie knew she should feel nervous about what they were about to do, but strangely, she felt excited. There was always the threat that they could die, yes, but for her, this was still infinitely better than sitting in the office of an oil company.

  She glanced at her watch, there were three minutes remaining before she had to start walking. To pass the time she dwelled on the vicissitudes of fate. Little twists and turns that had brought her to this point. The biggest had been the decision to go clothes shopping that day in Paris. It was one of those weird incidences where you bump into someone from work in a public place and it had just happened to be Jonathan, who she had always liked and who had desperately needed her help.

  She had been more than happy to oblige and still was. To her, this was a great adventure, like the games she used to play with her brothers growing up in the countryside. They used to set up quests and raid imaginary forts. The quest to save their lives in the present and liberate the truth behind what was happening to Jonathan was certainly laced with danger, but because it harked back to her rough and tumble childhood, it actually brought about more positive feelings than negative ones.

  The clock on the wall over the counter caught her attention. The five minutes was up. It was time to go.

  Julie exited the café and walked across the square in an air of determination to make this work. Her eyes focused ahead on the hotel entrance and the task at hand. Her mind was rushing through what she had to do and all the different scenarios she could encounter once she crossed the marble threshold. As she approached the shadow cast by the hotel over the edge of the square and the road surrounding it, her thoughts were jolted by the vision of Jonathan walking briskly toward her.

  This was not how the plan was supposed to go. Julie thought.

  Her steps faltered as confusion set in. Jonathan’s face looked tight as he came close to her and directed her away from the hotel by hooking his arm through hers.

  ‘Change of plan.’ he said, looking forward as they walked away from the hotel at a perpendicular angle.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, still confused. It had all been so well rehearsed all morning in their minds.

  ‘This is definitely the place.’ he continued, ‘I walked in and was about to sit in the lobby when I saw a man in a business suit walking out of the elevator holding hands with an Arab wearing the full flowing robes. Within a minute, I saw three or four Arabs dotted around the floor, all in the robes – it’s the place.’

  Julie turned to look at him, ‘So what do we do now?’

  Jonathan slowly turned their walking pattern back toward the direction of the hotel.

  ‘You go in and follow the next Arab guy going into the elevator. Go to his floor and walk past him when he stops at the door, then come back out of the hotel as discussed before. Let me know which room he went into. Okay?’

  ‘Sounds if anything, less risky than before.’ she replied.

  ‘Good, best of luck. I will wait for you back at the café. Go!’

  With that, he gently broke the link in their arms and started heading back across the square. Julie continued to clatter forward over the cobblestones in her high heels to disappear into the darkness of the hotel entrance.

  Once inside the hotel lobby, Julie stopped to coolly slip her sunglasses off and re-adjust the bags she was carrying as she surveyed the scene. Her entrance had not gone unnoticed and she counted at least ten men who had stopped in mid conversation to look at her. She didn’t immediately see any Arabs.

  Trying to stay unfazed, she figured they best thing to do was to walk a lap of the place, like she used to do with her girlfriends when they first arrived at a nightclub.

  She started walking in a circle of the lobby and just got past reception when an Arab dressed in full Arab dress gear walked out of the bar in front of her and started walking towards the lifts. Julie quickened her pace to get closer to him and then slowed again once he reached the wall and pressed the button to call the elevator.

  She ambled up beside him nonchalantly while pretending to look through one of her shopping bags. The silver doors slid open and the Arab motioned for her to enter first. She flashed a smile and tilted her head in acknowledgement as they both entered the lift. As the doors closed the Arab turned to fully face her.

  ‘Good morning madam.’ he said in a deep, accented voice.

  Julie smiled blankly as she tried not to panic – this was definitely not part of the plan. She was trapped in the rising lift, if something were to go wrong - there was no escape.

  ‘If you are in the hotel later,’ the Arab continued, without smiling, ‘my employer is having a party in room six zero two, the penthouse, please knock four times. He is very wealthy, you will not be disappointed.’ he ended with a ceremonial bow.

  Julie was stunned; she was being propositioned in the lift!

  ‘Uh, thank you.’ she said hurriedly, ‘I will certainly consider it.’

  The Arab did another bow as the elevator came to a stop on the sixth floor and the doors opened. They both exited and Julie paused long enough once she had walked out to see which direction the Arab was heading, and then turned to head in the opposite direction down the corridor. As she walked away and realised the worst moment of danger was over, she felt and another surge of adrenaline and turned back to call after the Arab, ‘room six zero two, knock four times you say?’ he bowed again in acknowledgement, ‘Alright, I like a good party, I’ll see you later.’ she winked and flicked her hair coquettishly as she spun on her heel to walk away.

  When she was sure she was out of sight of the Arab, she hurriedly started looking for the stairs to take her one floor down where she could then take the elevator back to the lobby. The plan had worked – not quite as planned but she had the result. Now she just wanted to get out of the hotel and back to Jonathan.

  Jonathan was fretting in the café across the road. He had nervously ordered a pot of tea and was now continually looking around the café and then back to the hotel across the square. He surveyed the other diners and drinkers. Where any of them watching him? To his surprise, he caught himself starting to bite his index finger nail. This was not something he had done in years. He was really worried about Julie. She was only doing this because of him. Now he had intentionally put her in harms way. He wanted to sprint across the plaza into the hotel foyer and scream at her to get out of the hotel.

  A Spanish waitress disturbed his thoughts by clattering a burnished pot of tea and ceramic mug onto the table in front of him. He thanked her and turned to look across the square again. Julie was halfway across it walking toward him. His heart soared and then plummeted. She was okay but was back far too quickly. What had happened? He could not wait for her to close the agonizing distance between them.

  After leaving a few Euros on the table to cover the tea, he hurried outside and toward her. As she approached she smiled that beautiful smile of hers that made the Spanish day even brighter. His heart soared again. It meant she was okay.

  ‘What h
appened?’ he asked, as they came together.

  Julie quickly relayed the story of how she was propositioned in the lift and told the room number of where they were staying.

  ‘Bloody hell.’ was all he say after taking it all in.

  All his complex scenario planning from the morning had nearly been undone with the targets coming to them through their lascivious lusts.

  29

  Madrid

  Half an hour and a pot of tea later, the plan had been reformulated.

  They left the café and crossed the sun-baked plaza once more toward the hotel.

  Julie entered first and Jonathan followed her at a distance of around ten paces. Julie coolly walked across the ornate lobby to the bronze lifts in the far wall. She pressed the button to go up and once the lift arrived and Julie entered, Jonathan briskly walked towards it to just make it through the doors before they began closing.

  They got out on the sixth floor and headed toward room six zero two, again with a space between them. Once Julie arrived at the door, she took a deep breath and knocked four times, then started smiling. There was a moment when nothing happened, when someone in the room was clearly looking through the peephole. Loud yelling in Arabic was heard coming through the door, followed by the metallic clinking of locks being undone from the inside.

  This was the crucial part of the plan, once the locks were heard they would no longer be looking through the peephole - Julie bolted right toward the fire escape to go down and wait in the lobby, while Jonathan, who had been pressed against the wall on the same side as the door, rushed up to stand in her place.

  The door opened to reveal the largest Arab Jonathan had ever seen. Before he could even open his mouth to utter a syllable, a nine-millimetre parabellum pistol was hovering two inches from his face.