by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 41
Jan was early into the office he normally shared with two others. He logged into the system as he did every morning and then, one by one, followed the precise order he had learned in Delft.
The first one, Fund EAWA, covering Economic Aid to West Africa. The Reference Number given on the slip of paper was RSFF 312A Jan typed it slowly to ensure he got it right. Yes, there it was exactly as in Delft. A Tourism project. Total value 3,450,000 Euros. But nothing especially secret there.
Now the section showing who had been awarded the funding. He clicked. And yes, just as in Delft, the perfectly legitimate page came up indicating the bidder - Republic of Cameroon, Delegation of Tourism.
And the section for the name of the bank? There it was, Bank de Littoral. "Never heard of it," thought Jan. Then the request for the code. He checked the typed code on the paper and carefully typed it in. Then he pressed Enter and up came a new page: Amount. Jan checked the paper again and typed in 35,000 US dollars and pressed Enter again. The page went blank. He waited, watching. The screen flickered and up came the original front page again as if waiting for him to restart.
"Jesus," said Jan to himself, looking around. He was still alone. "Job done, I suppose. No sign of where it went or who it went to."
He sat back, nervous, sweating. But at 35,000 dollars, that was the small one. The next transfer was for 260,175 Euros. He started again.
Fund: CAHA - Central Asia Humanitarian Aid. Reference No: CAHA 418F. There it was. Funding to help build and equip a huge refugee or natural disaster support facility in Pakistan. All the equipment to be stored waiting for the next humanitarian crisis whenever and whatever came - earthquake, political strife, floods. Jan remembered it well. He'd sat on committees discussing it. It was for the purpose built building, tents, blankets, water purification equipment, portable toilets, enough to support a large town. 260,000 Euros was, perhaps 10 percent of the total cost but a nice pay off for somebody. Did that person then pay others?
He repeated the process of the last case, each time double checking what he had typed. He typed in the special code and the amount page came up. Then he typed in Euros 260,175 and pressed Enter. There was absolutely no sign of where the money had gone or, indeed, if it had. Again, the recipient, whoever it was, was just a numbered account. Jan sat back once more and stared at the familiar log in front page that appeared on his screen every morning. It was clever, there was no doubting that.
"You're in early, Jan." Jan jumped. It was Hans who he shared an office with.
"I couldn't sleep," Jan said honestly. "Want a coffee?" Then he stuffed the slip of paper with its instructions into his pocket.
He was in the office and alone again at 5.30pm. For a reason he couldn't explain, Katrine was on his mind and he was tempted go and see her, chat generally, perhaps ask if she'd fancy another drink one evening. But was it wise with someone, somewhere watching everything he did in the office and out of it. He was sat at his desk, the computer was still on. Suddenly it bleeped - an internal email to him, personally. No sender's name just "Admin."
"City 2 Shopping Mall, basement, car park, 6.30pm."
Jan stared at it.
Someone must have known he was still there. Was it Eischmann, whom he had seen earlier that afternoon? He deleted it, switched off the computer, got up and walked out. Then he walked the mile or so to the Shopping Mall, took the car park lift to the lowest floor and stood, leaning against a concrete pillar. At just after 6.30 a shiny, new, black BMW came silently down the ramp from the floor above, circled the car park once and then reversed into a space. Thinking it might be Eischmann, Jan wandered over, expecting him to get out or perhaps even open a door for him to get in. But with heavily tinted windows, Jan could not see who was driving it. He walked on past the car, turned right by the lift shaft, circled it and returned once more to stand against the concrete pillar next to an Audi TT sports car.
But it was not Eischmann who emerged from the BMW but a tall woman in a dark trouser suit, white blouse and shoes that clicked as she walked on the concrete floor. Her hair, partly hidden inside a beige head scarf, was long, jet black and her eyes, as she quickly glanced at Jan, were big and dark. In just the few seconds Jan had, she looked Arab, perhaps Indian, and she carried a small brown envelope. She clearly saw Jan but passed by and went to the other side of the Audi, put the envelope on its soft roof and walked back towards the BMW. The next minute, Jan heard the BMW starting up again. It went back up the ramp and disappeared. Jan looked at the envelope. Assuming it was meant for him he picked it up and walked the mile or so back to his apartment. When he got there, he opened it. Inside was a simple, typed note on a sheet of A5 sized plain white paper. In capitals it read:
"CONGRATULATIONS - YOU PASSED THE FIRST TEST. EXPECT A MESSAGE REGARDING FURTHER TRAINING."
There were no other words and no signature. Jan stared at it just as he had stared at the email earlier.
In the evening, Jan checked his bank account. At 12.28 pm a sum of 2,250 Euros had been credited to his account. But there was no reference attached to it to say where it had come from. It just said "JK Credit."