Assassin b-2

by Murray Mcdonald

  It was of course nothing more than speculation. In truth, Beaumont had no sexual urges whatsoever, another symptom of his quest for brilliance. The only satisfaction Beaumont required was power and sitting less than twenty feet away from the President, was certainly a step in the right direction. Working for the second most powerful man in the world was not a bad thing. On successful completion of the plan, he would receive the promotion he knew he deserved, deputy to The Chairman of the Committee. The Chairman of The Committee was the most powerful man in the world, far more powerful than the President, and had selected Beaumont for his current role of ‘supporting’ the President and keeping him in check. Beaumont could not believe his luck when he had received the call from The Chairman. Beaumont’s father, in the video, had explained the existence of The Committee — the real power behind the power.

  The Committee had been formed before the First World War and comprised the wealthiest and most powerful men in the United States. They did not approve of the power the Government had over their profits and concluded that the only way to protect their interests was to control the Government itself. The Committee met and agreed a path to take control of the Government, not overtly but covertly, ensuring that key government positions were held by men within their control. Many conspiracy theorists had alluded to a government behind the government, controlled by big business. The conspiracy theorists, for once, were right.

  Although Beaumont’s father had mentioned the Chairman of the Committee in the video, he had not revealed his identity. In fact, nobody knew anyone else’s identity in The Committee except for The Chairman who knew them all. Entry to The Committee was hereditary and by invitation only after the death of a father, never before. There was one other form of entry which, until recently, had never been invoked — a personal invitation extended by The Chairman.

  Beaumont’s call came the day after he had seen the video. The Chairman began by asking whether he had watched the tape. When he said yes, The Chairman introduced himself merely as The Chairman of The Committee. He welcomed Beaumont to The Committee and asked him to carry out his current role, Special Assistant to the man the Committee were backing to become the next US President.

  At the time, it looked likely that their candidate would lose as the other candidate was way ahead in the polls. However, The Chairman was sure that with Beaumont on board, this could be turned around. Their candidate was a very charismatic and extraordinary man who was also a member of The Committee and had been carefully groomed for the role as part of a larger initiative. However, they were concerned about the flaws in his character which required controlling. Beaumont accepted the task, excelled in his role and delivered The Committee’s first presidential victory for many years. Since the election, he had continued to control the President’s flaws bar one major blip, the business the previous year with the Kennedys.

  Beaumont had spent days deciding whether he should tell The Chairman the truth about the President’s involvement but that would have alerted him to his own failure in controlling the President. Therefore, he omitted to mention it during his weekly update with The Chairman. The President was of course completely unaware of where his Special Assistant’s real loyalties lay.

  Beaumont’s phone rang.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “Canada is done. I’m just waiting for final confirmation from Argentina…hold on a second,” the caller listened into his radio and confirmed to Beaumont, “…yes, it’s done.”

  “Excellent. Any problems?”

  “Of course not,” said the caller, irritated at the suggestion.

  “Good.”

  Beaumont was using the best personnel and could still not believe how stupid the President had been a year earlier, launching an operation without his involvement and selecting people recommended by low-life acquaintances.

  “Unless there’s anything else, I’ll get my team some well earned rest,” suggested the caller.

  “Yes, fine, I’ll talk to you again in a week.”

  Beaumont ended the call and opened the safe beneath his desk for which only he had the key. He extracted the plan and crossed off Canada, Japan and Argentina. Fourteen down and three new members to add to The Committee.

  Chapter 5

  “Where have you been?” asked Lela.

  “Penaraja,” replied Saki.

  “How did you get in without us knowing?” asked Tom. “I mean the dogs, how did you get past them?”

  Saki gave Tom a knowing look and winked.

  Tom really wished he could do what Saki and Lela could do. But he couldn’t. Lela had tried to teach him some moves but after a couple of months had given up. Tom would never be supple enough and was far too awkward.

  “So, tell me about your birthday?” said Saki changing the subject. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

  “Not a lot to tell, no friends, just my grandparents, had a nice dinner, that’s about it.”

  “…and your present?”

  “Amazing!”

  “Well, how are you getting on with it?”

  “You just get back and all you want to do is talk about birthday presents?” interrupted Lela bringing the subject back to her original question. “Where have you really been?” she asked more forcefully.

  “OH GOD NO!!” screamed Donald from the kitchen.

  The three rushed through and looked at Donald as he stared at the TV screen.

  “…to recap three, I repeat three, world leaders have been assassinated in the last four hours. Heightened security has been implemented around the world as investigators continue to try to make sense of the fourteen assassinations which have now taken place in the last year. We’ll keep you up to date with any developments, in the meantime, we’ll pass you back to your current programming…”

  All stood open-mouthed at the shocking news. Donald turned to look at them and then spotted Saki. He heaved a huge sigh of relief.

  “You’re back!” he said. “But I didn’t hear you come in, how did you get past the dogs?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Tom.

  “You know, just checking I’ve still got what it takes,” said Saki.

  Tom and Lela both noticed the look between Donald and Saki. It was as though a thousand words had transferred between them without speaking.

  “So, I was just asking Tom about his new pressie,” said Saki breaking the silence.

  “Yes, very exciting. His mother is livid with me, she can’t believe I could be so stupid. Anyway, after last year’s endeavours of flying the A380 test plane, Tom proved he’s more than capable.”

  “I can’t believe he didn’t guess,” said Lela, pinching Tom.

  Tom couldn’t believe he didn’t guess either. The day of his birthday had arrived and unlike the previous year, it was to be a fairly quiet day. No parties, no Saki, just his grandparents visiting for a birthday dinner. However, one thing was planned which was very exciting, Alba One was ready for delivery. Alba One was his father’s new Airbus A380, a new private jet replacing a smaller Boeing 747. It had been delivered overnight to Glasgow Airport and was to be unveiled as part of Tom’s birthday celebrations. Tom was a plane fanatic and would have preferred to see it arrive from Toulouse but his father had refused. The plane was arriving too early in the morning and he wanted it perfect for the unveiling.

  The Kennedys boarded the helicopter for the short trip to Glasgow Airport. Throughout the trip, Tom’s mother was livid with his father. Tom had no idea why but whatever his father had done, Tom had never seen his mother so angry. They arrived at Glasgow Airport and landed in front of a new hangar specially erected to house the new plane. The hangar was massive, over 100 metres long by 100 metres wide.

  A ribbon had been placed in front of the hangar doors for Tom to cut which he did before the others had even reached the hangar, such was his excitement. Once the ribbon was cut, the doors to the hangar began to slide open and Tom’s father asked him to turn around and look away.

  As
the doors clunked into their fully open position, Donald allowed Tom to turn back round and asked him to hit a light switch which would reveal the new plane. Tom hit the switch, the lights blazed. But nothing. The hangar was empty, completely empty. Tom’s stomach fell to his knees as he realised that Alba One was missing. He turned to his father who looked across to the pilot who shrugged his shoulders.

  There was a structure at the back of the hangar which took up less than a tenth of the total space but was nonetheless a substantial building. Donald explained that those were the offices and suggested they go and see what was going on. As they approached the structure, an almighty bang erupted and the walls fell down, missing them by a matter of inches. Smoke and Rachel’s screams filled the air. Tom turned to his father who was smiling. His mother’s punch soon put an end to the smile as she struck Donald square on the chin. Tom was utterly confused. But as the smoke, (or as it turned out) the dry ice settled, Tom realised why his father was smiling.

  Standing in front of Tom was a brand new Gulfstream G550 jet, registration G-TOMI. He couldn’t believe it, his own plane! Not just any old plane, an ultra long-range jet, capable of flying from Glasgow to Johannesburg or Los Angeles, non-stop. Tom was speechless.

  He had received an enquiry a few month’s earlier from an anonymous customer using a Hotmail account. He had initially thought it strange as his customers didn’t use Hotmail. Nonetheless, he completed the proposal and delivered the quote. Tom had started his business a few years earlier. He was fanatical about flying and knew everything there was to know about anything that flew. One night, his father had asked for his thoughts on a proposal he had been given for a new plane for his company, Tom had suggested a different model giving various reasons. His father took his proposal seriously and from that day on Tom had never looked back. He had set up his own company which, within the space of two years, was worth in excess of?6 million. He offered truly independent advice on any aircraft upon which many people and businesses relied, including the most recent anonymous Hotmail customer. The request had been for a small executive jet which would be both easy and safe to fly. It was to be capable of flying from Glasgow to Johannesburg (coincidentally the same distance to Tom’s school which was located on a small island in the Indian Ocean). It would have a young and inexperienced pilot and this should be taken into account. How Tom had failed to spot the clues escaped him, especially as Lela had kept asking him if he had received any strange requests lately. He had told her about the anonymous email and despite her fit of giggles, he still had not clicked. Lela was fully aware of Tom’s business activities although his parents were not. He wanted to surprise them in the same way that his father had surprised his grandparents on his sixteenth birthday.

  The Kennedys boarded the new jet and flew to Toulouse to do exactly what Tom had wanted to do originally, to pick up Alba One personally. On arrival at Toulouse however, Tom declined to fly back in Alba One in favour of his very own plane, ‘Tom One’, although he was not yet allowed to fly it himself. Everyone else plumped for the ultra luxurious A380 in which Rachel had styled the interior and had, Donald complained, spent the same on the inside as he had spent on the plane itself. This of course was nonsense, Rachel couldn’t have spent $250 million on the interior even if she had tried.

  “So have you actually flown it yet?” asked Saki.

  “Flown it?” said Lela rhetorically. “He’s never been out of it.”

  “Yes,” said Tom nudging Lela. “I’ve had a few lessons, it’s great fun. Mum’s still not happy though, but then I think Dad’s right, she’ll never be happy about me flying.”

  “Even when you’re fifty, she’ll hate it,” confirmed Donald.

  “Well I’m sorry,” said an exhausted Saki, “but I need a shower. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head over to the Lodge,” said Saki.

  “You look like you need a good sleep as well. You look terrible,” said Lela.

  “Thanks!” said Saki. “Come on, let’s go home and you can tell me what you’ve been up to,” he said to Lela while throwing a look to Donald which said I’ll be back soon, we need to talk. Donald nodded while Tom watched their interaction. This was becoming more worrying by the minute. What was going on?

  As Saki and Lela got up to leave, alarms went off throughout the house, doors and windows instantly locked and security shutters dropped in front of the bullet proof glazing. The Rottweillers went wild and could be heard above the alarms. Donald tensed as his worst fears raced through his mind. Saki, however, remained calm and began to laugh. Rachel rushed in.

  “What’s happ…SAKI, you’re back!” Rachel threw her arms around him, forgetting the dogs and the alarms.

  Tom and Lela looked at each other as Donald looked at the Rachel hugging Saki. They were under attack. Somebody had entered the estate’s perimeter. The house was in full lock-down and they were hugging? But he knew that they were completely safe. The house was impregnable. Everything was covered, even an attack by tanks and bulldozers. As the alarm triggered, huge metal barriers rose from the ground barring access to all vehicles. The security shutters would protect against any shell or bomb blast. The only thing that could break through was a nuclear blast but they had their underground bunker for that eventuality. Nothing was left to chance. Within five minutes, three choppers full of heavily armed Royal Marines would be on site to deal with the intruders.

  Although he knew that they should be completely safe, he could not understand Saki’s reaction. Why was he laughing?

  “Saki, why the hell are you laughing?” shouted Donald.

  Saki said nothing but walked over to the security camera screens. One screen was filled with an estate schematic which showed the exact location of every person on the estate. Each person was individually identified by a green dot. Two red dots flashed on the screen, the intruders were just inside the gates. Twenty yellow dots surrounded them, the Rottweillers.

  “Very impressive, the dogs caught them instantly,” said Saki, still calm. He touched the two red dots on the screen and the security camera zoomed in on the intruders. As the picture became clearer, the room filled with laughter.

  “Kano and Kisho! What are they doing here?” asked Tom, recognising the twins, Lela’s cousins.

  “Getting eaten by these bloody dogs if you don’t do something,” came their response. Saki had switched on the intercom system and Tom’s question had boomed out across the estate. Donald pressed the release button and the dogs instantly stood down. The button emitted a high pitch perceptible only to dogs.

  Donald turned to Saki.

  “But I just don’t get it, how did you get past the dogs? They don’t know you?”

  Saki pulled a small controller from his pocket identical to Donald’s.

  “I had a sample made when we were planning the controls for the dogs. I’m just glad it still works!”

  Donald however could not see the funny side, the stress was getting to him. Saki noted Donald’s demeanour and placed a reassuring arm around his shoulders. He led him into the study. Showers and sleep could wait. It was time to talk.

  Chapter 6

  Beaumont was excited. In less than four hours, he would present an update of the plan to The Committee. Up until that point, the President himself had always updated The Committee on ‘Current Progress’ and ‘Next Steps’. This was his chance to shine in front of The Chairman.

  The President and Beaumont had had a conference call with The Chairman that morning. The Chairman told them that there would be change to that evening’s agenda and that Beaumont would be up first. The President protested it was his plan and the members expected him to be in control. At that point, The Chairman asked the President to lift up his handset. Beaumont did not know what was said but whatever it was, it was the first time he had seen the President silenced, not only silenced but shaken. The President replaced the handset and suggested that Beaumont leave early as he had a long drive home before the evening’s meeting. Beaumont would normally use
a Marine chopper to get him home but on that occasion, was met only with a hearty laugh and a wave of dismissal. The President was showing him he was still the boss.

  Beaumont arrived at his family home in Virginia, a peaceful estate in the heart of old America.

  “Good afternoon Charles.”

  “Good afternoon Mother,” replied Beaumont as he rushed through the door and headed towards his private study.

  “Now Charles, I brought you up better than that, come back here and greet your mother properly.”

  “Of course Mother, sorry,” he said through gritted teeth, as he stopped, returned to his mother and pecked her on the cheek.

  “Good afternoon Mother and how are you today?” he asked sarcastically

  “Better now, thank you. Now off you go.”

  Beaumont, already in a foul mood from the unnecessary three hour drive, was now ready to explode and almost sprinted to his study. He had less than an hour to practice for that night’s meeting which, in his mind, was the most important meeting of his life. After The Chairman’s earlier remonstration with the President, he now more than ever wanted to be the Deputy Chairman.

  Beaumont closed the door to his study and sat in the same chair his father and grandfather had used before him. At last he had time to himself to work on the update. Nobody would interrupt him in the study, this area was sacrosanct, a tradition that was almost as old as the family itself. In fact, it was on breaking this tradition that Beaumont witnessed his ‘real’ father for the first and only time. Beaumont had been enjoying an after dinner drink with his mother when she collapsed, gasping for air and complaining of severe chest pains. Beaumont immediately called an ambulance and screamed to the maid to tell his father. She had refused, apologising that she could not disturb Mr Beaumont in his study, even if the house were burning down, she could not disturb him. Beaumont had shouted for the butler who had similarly refused. He screamed at them, his mother was having a heart attack and they were worried about disturbing his father’s peace and solitude. He pushed them aside and stormed down the corridor to tell his father about his mother’s condition. He reached the study door and tried to open it. It was locked. Every ounce of anger went into thumping the door to draw his father out of his self indulgent solitude. After nearly a minute of banging, the door opened, his father’s anger evident in the slap he delivered to the young Beaumont. His father issued him a chilling warning ‘don’t ever disturb me again.’ Beaumont protested that his mother was having a heart attack. His father’s response shocked his son to the core, ‘deal with it’, he said before shutting the door in his face.