Kidnap b-1

by Murray Mcdonald

  It was the team on the road who heard the rustling and saw the two green images emerge from the darkness. Both images were armed and broke through the undergrowth with their weapons raised.

  The four man team had no option, they raised their SA-80s and fired as the two intruders emerged from the woods. Both fell to the floor, dead.

  Sinead had managed to get back to the camp just as the four shots rang out. She recognised the sound of British rifles. Conor and his men had Russian Kalashnikovs. She jumped into the car, started the engine and called Ryan. She knew there was no way anybody would get out of the Estate. He met her at the airport where they bought tickets for the next plane leaving to anywhere. It was Palma, Mallorca.

  Saki keyed in the all clear code and hit the lights. Night became day again as the shutters and doors across the Estate unlocked. He also opened the gates and let the apoplectic SPU officers in. They rushed down the road, avoiding the motorbikes which littered the driveway, now minus its spikes.

  Within two minutes, the five unconscious intruders were handcuffed and awaiting transport to the nearby high security police station where they would be questioned and charged. The SPU officers had managed to bring one of the men around and had ascertained that Tristan was definitely not the target, it had been both Tom and Lela.

  The Marines left twenty minutes later, having received Donald’s heartfelt gratitude. It was they said, the least they could do.

  Not only had Donald provided them with a luxury clubhouse and training ground, he had also ensured that the Commando unit had wanted for nothing over the previous fourteen years. He gave them scholarship funds to ensure their children could go to university and if any Commando died in the line of duty, their widows would receive a hefty sum from the Alba retirement fund. Donald had done all of this and this was the first time, in fourteen years, that the Alarm had genuinely sounded. All previous alarms had been false alarms requested by the Commandos for training exercises.

  Within two hours, the two dead bodies were removed and the grounds returned to their normal quiet state. The description of the woman who had accompanied the kidnap team was circulated to all police stations, airports and seaports. But Sinead and Ryan were already in the air when Glasgow Airport received their descriptions. Both had decided they never wanted to hear the name Kennedy nor see the Estate again.

  Chapter 19

  The next day was a blur. Tom and Lela’s friends left just after lunch and Tom spent the afternoon with his flight instructor, Jacques. Lela spent the afternoon with Saki, catching up on two training sessions and dissecting her first fight. Rachel and Donald both had work to go to. Rachel went to the hospital where she still worked as a paediatrician while Donald went to finalise the bid for IBC. After what had been a very hectic twenty four hours, the Kennedy house was in darkness and silence by 9.00 p.m. They were all sound asleep.

  “Morning,” said Tom as he joined the rest of the family at breakfast. He, as usual, was last to arrive.

  “So today’s the big day?” asked Tom.

  “Yep,” replied Donald. The deadline for the bids to buy IBC was noon. Although the process normally took some time, it was anticipated that a preliminary result could be announced that afternoon. IBC ltd was a well established and very well run corporation, owned predominantly by three Canadian brothers. Having built the business over 60 years, the three octogenarians were now retiring. Alba had an excellent relationship with IBC and it was widely believed, they were the front-runners. However, no deal was ever done until it was signed and sealed.

  “…and Sam Mitcham is calling about the new school?” said Rachel, reminding everyone that a call was scheduled for 7.00 p.m., to which they had all been summoned.

  “Waste of time,” mumbled Tom to Lela.

  “What was that young man?” asked Rachel.

  Tom wasn’t happy. There had been a brief discussion the previous day before Sam Mitcham had called. Donald’s initial enthusiasm for the school had disappeared on hearing the revelation that Tom and Lela were the targets of the kidnapping. Rachel was of the same opinion and as equally concerned about the school which, in addition to the security issue, would have no track record and as for the curriculum, god alone knew what the quality and standard of Education would be. Saki was, fortunately, still keeping an open mind. He knew Tom and Lela better than anyone, probably even than themselves and he could see they were desperate to go. They had agreed to delay the call with Sam for twenty four hours.

  “You heard, you and Dad have already made up your minds so why bother with the call,” he said, sulking into his Weetabix.

  “That’s not true we’ll both be open minded,” she replied, doubting herself.

  They agreed to park the debate until that evening as they dispersed to get on with the day ahead. Tom and Lela were left sitting at the table on their own.

  “What you up to now?” asked Tom.

  “Nothing, my dad’s going to the hospital with Rachel, so I’ve got the morning off.”

  “Fancy a trip to London?”

  Lela didn’t hesitate for a minute, the shops in London were fantastic. She and Rachel were fashion gurus and usually went at least once a month but because of the holidays, they hadn’t been for over three months.

  “Definitely,” she replied. “But will we be back for seven?”

  “Of course,” replied Tom, confused by the question.

  “Excellent, I’ll be back in less than ten minutes, don’t leave without me!” she said, rushing out of the door. Tom had no idea where she was going.

  She appeared back in the kitchen eight minutes later. Tom loved timing her, one day, she would be late, surely. However, Saki had exactly the same skill, if he said less than five minutes, it was less than five minutes. If he said something would take five minutes, it would take exactly five minutes.

  Lela had changed out of her kick-about clothes and donned her best go shopping clothes. Tom wondered why the hell she had done that as he led her towards the elevator to the basement. Lela had noticed a few specks of rain and was impressed that Tom was taking them via the underground route to the helipad, although she hadn’t heard the helicopter land. As they stepped out of the elevator, Tom turned left as Lela turned right.

  “Where are you going?” asked Tom as he watched Lela walk away.

  “The helipad, where are you going?” she asked.

  Tom realised his mistake. When he had suggested a trip to London, he had meant a ‘virtual’ trip and Lela had assumed a ‘real’ one.

  “Hmmm, I think we may have crossed our wires, I meant in the simulator,” he replied cautiously.

  To say Lela was disappointed was an understatement, she was gutted. However, she soon saw the funny side and although had vowed never to join Tom again in that awful machine, she thought what the hell.

  Donald arrived home just before 7.00 p.m.. Tom had been calling him all afternoon to find out what had happened about the bid but there were no updates The Alba International bid was delivered at 11.00 a.m. and was one of five bids for IBC. That was all Donald knew.

  The family gathered in the study for the conference call with Sam Mitcham. Dinner was put on hold until after the call. It was curry night anyway and only a phone call away.

  Sam rang at exactly 7.00 p.m. as promised, 2.00 p.m. New York time for him.

  “Hi guys,” he said.

  “Hi,” responded the Kennedys.

  “So, what are your thoughts on the school,” asked Sam.

  Nobody wanted to give anything away and all remained quiet. Tom broke the silence.

  “Mr Mitcham, after the kidnapping attempt, as you can imagine, my dad is a little concerned about security,”

  “Tom, please call me Sam and I’m not surprised. It certainly made us revisit our security cover for the school. Which I’m pleased to say is second to none. Donald I would even be so bold as to say it’s better than yours.”

  Donald could not help but react to the suggestion that his security ha
d been bettered.

  “What do you mean, better? Better how?” he demanded.

  Sam knew Donald well and knew how to get his attention and interest.

  “We have based a new multi-national Special Forces Division on the school’s island. This is a completely new task force and its specialities are anti-terrorism and hostage rescue. The school will have 200 of the best soldiers in the world who have been fully trained and are operationally ready, not on stand-by, but ready.”

  “But…” Donald tried to interrupt but Sam kept talking.

  “And as if that weren’t enough, the island is located within the remit of the newest NATO air and naval base which lies seventy five miles to the North East. This is home to a number of strike aircraft wings, a naval fleet and some thousand marines. Overall, this means that the school has a very powerful army, navy and air force presence which can cope with any eventuality. The school is also equipped with special underground bunkers which can cope with all nuclear and biochemical weapons.”

  “Hmm, I suppose that sounds not bad,” said Donald.

  Tom and Lela began to see a chink of light, a ‘not bad’ from Donald was praise indeed when it came to security. He didn’t even rate Number 10, the Whitehouse or Buckingham Palace as ‘not bad’.

  “I should also point out that these are not training posts. Only fully trained personnel will ever serve there and their sole purpose is to protect the school and its students. The base is classified as a continual live exercise environment on high alert at all times.”

  As Sam stopped talking, Donald began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He didn’t really know what else to say.

  “OK,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. As far as he could tell, they had covered everything.

  Tom and Lela looked at each other and thought one down, two to convince.

  Rachel might not be so easy, she had already planned Tom and Lela’s education down to the last detail, culminating in Oxford or Cambridge followed by Harvard or Princeton, she really didn’t mind which.

  “Rachel, Donald gave me your list of questions the other day. Should I run through the answers?” asked Sam confidently.

  It was Rachel’s turn to squirm, she knew from his tone that Sam was going to impress her.

  “As for an established educational philosophy, there isn’t one, it’s all completely new. Some of the world’s top educators from the best schools and universities spent years designing the curriculum. It is truly amazing. English will be the main spoken and written language but all classes will be equipped with simultaneous translation facilities in all languages. However, all students will be expected to learn English, French and Spanish as a minimum. The syllabus will include the normal stuff like Math, Physics, Chemistry, World History etc… However, they’ll be many more on top of those. Right from Year One, which is where Tom and Lela will start, they’ll learn about World Politics, World Economics, International Law, Accountancy, Business Administration, Leadership and Management Skills, amongst others. By the time students leave this school, they really will be equipped to run the world. Which is exactly why we’re doing it.”

  “What about universities?” asked Rachel.

  “As long as they graduate from the school, they have automatic entry to any course at any University in the world.”

  “Wow!” exclaimed Rachel unable to control herself, automatic entry to Oxford, Cambridge Harvard or Princeton.

  “But don’t get me wrong, there is no automatic graduation. The students have to pass each year before they are allowed into the next year, we stole that idea from the French and the students will have to work damned hard. It’s not only going to be the most exclusive school in the world but the hardest,” said Sam.

  Tom looked at his mother, he could see her picturing the graduation ceremonies. Sam had nailed her concerns well and truly. By the look on her face, she was already convincing herself that 6,000 miles wasn’t that far nowadays. Two down one to go, he thought as he looked at Saki. He could see that Lela was thinking the same.

  “Anything else?” asked Sam.

  “I have one condition but it’s dependent on what the decision is, can we call you back?” asked Saki mysteriously.

  “Of course,” replied Sam.

  “Sorry, before you go,” said Lela. “Just one quick question, what’s the school called?”

  They could almost feel Sam shift nervously in his seat as he paused before answering.

  “Hmmm, that has proved a rather difficult decision. In fact, it caused more arguments than anything else. Some wanted a reference to Confucius, some to Plato, some to Socrates. In the end they all had to be ruled out as we couldn’t reach agreement. So in the end we went with,” he coughed nervously. “The Academy.”

  “You’re joking?” said Rachel.

  “I’m afraid not, anyway I’ll wait to hear from you soon. Bye,” he said, hanging up quickly to cut short his embarrassment.

  As the call ended, everybody looked at each other and laughed. The Academy! What an unoriginal, boring and thoroughly inappropriate name for what had just been described to them.

  Lela then remembered Saki’s condition and looked at him.

  “Well?” she asked. “What’s this condition?”

  “It’s irrelevant unless the answer is yes and even then it’s not that important,” he replied vaguely. Donald, realising what it was, jumped in to divert the attention.

  “So what do we think everyone, yes or no?”

  “Yes!” said Tom.

  “Yes!” said Lela.

  “Hmmm, I suppose 6,000 miles isn’t that far nowadays, it’s a yes from me,” said Rachel.

  “Well, he certainly won me over,” said Donald. “The only way to educate you more safely than that would be to imprison you on the estate, which I don’t think is fair.”

  “So, Saki, it’s a yes from you?”

  “Yes, as long as they accept my condition.”

  “Excellent! I’ll call him back then. Rachel, why don’t you take Tom and Lela to help you order the Indian, they know what we like,” said Donald, less than subtly asking them to leave him and Saki to their mysterious condition.

  Five minutes later, a jubilant Donald and Saki joined them in the Lounge to await the arrival of their curry.

  “It’s all done! You start at your new school in 4 weeks,” announced Donald, just as his mobile rang.

  “Hello?” he answered, motioning for everybody to stop cheering, it was a bad line. Donald listened for what seemed to Tom hours but was in fact only one minute.

  “Fantastic and thank you so much, I will look after it, don’t worry. Thank you again.”

  Tom was already jumping up and down, he had got the gist of the conversation but still made him explain.

  “Well, tell us?” asked Tom struggling to contain himself. The IBC deal would turn his father into the undisputed richest man in the world and by a considerable margin.

  “That was the CEO of IBC. They’ve accepted Alba’s bid, it wasn’t the highest but felt we were the best fit. The detail will take some time to work through but it looks as though the completion date will be within the next ten weeks. So we’re not quite there yet, remember it’s not over until it’s signed and sealed.”

  Chapter 20

  He slammed the phone down hard as he heard the news. He always knew it was going to happen, as long as Alba made the bid, he would lose. Conor and his band of idiots had cost him billions.

  He pulled out the IBC file, it was rubbish now. He flicked through the contents one last time and read Conor’s CV again. Very experienced, very smart, very ruthless but it failed to mention his one major flaw. He was totally damned useless. Whoever had recommended him would pay for this, he thought as he flicked through the list of recommendations. It was only when he found the list that he recalled Conor had been second on the list.

  He sat back and wondered whether it would it have worked if he had played it differently. He stopped. It was pointless. He coul
dn’t roll back the clock and start again. He stopped thinking about what had gone wrong and realised he should focus on what he could do right. He didn’t need to roll back the clock, he had plenty of time. His bid may have been rejected but the deal wasn’t signed. What was the old saying? Oh yes, it wasn’t over until the fat lady sings. He laughed to himself, or should it be until the rich Scotsman signs. He just needed a plan and the right man. He studied the list and made his decision.

  He dialled the number next to the name at number one. It rang twice before it was answered.

  “Who is this?” a man answered abruptly.

  “We need to talk.”

  The line went silent, the man at the other end recognised a voice he had not heard for fourteen years and had never expected to hear again.

  “REAPER, did you hear me, I said we need to talk!” repeated the client.

  Part Three

  Chapter 21

  One week later

  Reaper had been told to be in New York before 9.00 a.m.. He would receive a phone call and should be available to meet anywhere in the Manhattan area within 30 minutes. The client was taking security extremely seriously.

  Reaper was both apprehensive and intrigued about the upcoming meeting. He would finally put a face to the very intimidating voice from his past.

  Reaper had arrived the previous evening and as always, had travelled light. He didn’t do luggage. He much preferred to be able to slip away into the crowds the moment he disembarked a flight. If he ever needed luggage, he shipped it ahead, in advance, to the ‘wrong’ hotel and would pick it up on his arrival with apologies for the inconvenience caused.

  He didn’t usually meet clients face to face and this added to his concern over the meeting. He normally only made contact by mobile phone or email. His latest mobile phone was impossible to track, trace or listen into but despite this, he still used an elaborate network of forwarding devices and voice scramblers to ensure ultimate security and anonymity. If email were required, he used anonymous mail addresses, usually Hotmail accounts and always used internet cafes. He never worked from home and refused to have a PC in any of his houses.