“Let’s forget about me for the moment and concentrate on the Forum. I’m not sure what we can do about it but it’ll be Parsons top concern,” she said. “You and I know we’re running out of time. The teams are all aware of the evidence we have to date and are on heightened alert. Security’s been stepped up and the Australian Police have sent some of their plain clothes officers to further protect certain VIPs who may be considered potential targets. We’ve got teams with dogs as well as various undercover SWAT agents cruising the venues. If we can’t prevent an attack maybe we can contain the fallout but what in God’s name does any of this have to do with charity work?” She sounded completely exasperated.
“I suspect that in a twisted sort of a way, it’s about righting wrongs and redressing the balance in favour of the poor. On the flight in, I sat next to one of the delegates. His name was Diego and once he had a few shots under his belt he became very garrulous. Brady’s boss Wesley Smithson seems to be a bit of a cult figure. Diego told me that events at the Forum were going to change the world. I asked and he denied knowledge of terrorist activities but Wesley and Brady are not cut from the same cloth and Brady might have a very different agenda. Wesley heads a secret brotherhood called The Chosen Way which spans the globe. It seems a very cult-like name to me and Diego described Wesley as their Divine Master - his exact words. To listen to him talk you’d think he was some sort of twenty-first century messiah yet I think Brady is the power behind it all. There’s little concrete evidence around but what I have found has sinister vibes.”
He fell silent for a moment then he sighed despondently.
“Do you remember my first visit when I talked about uniquely different threats? That’s been true for every event I’ve been associated with but this is the first time in all those years we’ve no hard facts and one of my colleagues has specifically been singled out and that seems to be my fault.”
CHAPTER 55
For sixteen hours Fernando had prowled restlessly around the departures terminal at Auckland Airport. He’d had almost no sleep and he’d been forced to watch as other travellers arrived, checked-in and walked through into the customs control area totally oblivious to his plight.
To keep awake he’d refuelled on coffee, dark and strong, generously sweetened. Nothing like Colombian Coffee but then no airport in the world served premium coffee, he told himself. His mind searched persistently for alternative escape routes. He considered taking a flight to Los Angeles before he realised that he did not have the right travel documentation to be flying to the States. Besides if the party was due to start any moment, as Frank had warned, he wanted to be someplace where he could disappear more easily.
The sound system crackled.
“Passengers booked on cancelled LAN Chile flights to Santiago are requested to report to the information desk immediately.”
Fernando leapt to his feet, grabbed his luggage and raced over. He was fifth in the queue. He watched as the passengers before him presented their passports and tickets, checked-in their luggage and received boarding cards. He felt his spirits lift; perhaps he was on his way at last. Once he arrived in Santiago he would be able to find a way home. He would be able to relax.
As he stepped into the plane he vowed that he would never again leave Colombia or get involved in other people’s agendas. He considered his options. If necessary he would disappear. He had four years of contract payments waiting for him, money he had converted to American dollars and transferred to a foreign exchange bank in South America. It was a small fortune and if he was frugal he would be able to survive without a job for many years. At least now he had some alternatives.
Flight arrangements had been completed so quickly that he had no chance to advise Frank of his new plans. He’d remembered to ditch the phone and later he would flush the SIM card down the toilet. There would be plenty of time in Santiago to contact Frank.
Flight preparations were completed and the cabin doors secured. Fernando obediently watched the safety video and noted his nearest exit then the plane taxied onto the runway. Its engines throbbed for a moment before it started to lumber down the runway. When the Boeing lifted off, his tension seemed to levitate from his shoulders and he started to relax. He felt the thump as the wheels folded into place and the plane gained altitude. He looked at his watch. It was 6:30 PM Sept 9 2014 and he was going home. Below the land was left behind and the vast blue Pacific Ocean glittered in the evening sun, then the plane flew through the high cloud and all he could see was a darkening grey half-light. He was flying eastwards into night.
CHAPTER 56
Parsons looked at his watch. 6:30 PM. Tomorrow, the tenth of September at ten AM on the steps of the conference centre a Mãori welcome was scheduled, delegates would be officially welcomed to New Zealand and the 4th ROAR Forum declared open. There was little he or any of his staff could do now and he was still hot under the collar that Ritmeyer had tried repeatedly to raise his conspiracy theories and unsettle the stakeholders. He knew he should have followed his instincts, and put a stop to his visits right at the start. Too late now, he castigated himself. Bloody hell the UN didn’t have all the answers! Ritmeyer was a fool and somehow he’d managed to infect Pania with his fears. All that conspiracy hogwash and claims that Pania was somehow at risk; well it was a cartload of shit. She might believe it but he’d made himself perfectly clear. No extra protection and if she wasn’t at her designated station in the morning, she’d be sacked.
Parsons was disappointed in Pania. He’d thought she was made of sterner stuff but ever since she’d told him that she thought she was being followed he’d lost complete confidence in her reliability. Well, she wouldn’t be around for much longer. After the Forum, when he’d been proved right, she’d be encouraged to resign. Perhaps he’d been a bit heavy handed at the meeting but sometimes one had to be firm and maintain control. He refused to listen to the pair of them. Ritmeyer had no right to question the administration arrangements. He smiled grimly. He had seen it coming – more unfounded scaremongering. Change Makers was a perfectly harmless organisation with guarantees from one of the top law firms. He’d met Ms Baildon at a function recently. He grinned to himself when he remembered her long legs under that pencil thin skirt. She exuded confidence and knew what she was talking about. She was, in his view, exceptional even amongst lawyers. Everything about her shouted style; from that expensive pen of hers, classy leather bound stationery to her immaculately polished fingernails. Indeed, she’d impressed him, so he was in no mood to listen to a wolf-crying Yank. He’d shut down their protests very effectively. It was unfortunate that the other stakeholders had witnessed their spat but he’d shown leadership, he told himself, confident he’d be proven right.
CHAPTER 57
Deeply dissatisfied Pania and George left the meeting feeling bruised, frustrated and sidelined by their encounter with Parsons. All their concerns had been ignored and despite their united front, George’s warnings had been rubbished as conspiracy hogwash and his concerns for her safety overruled.
Pania led the way towards the railway station where they would catch the train to Petone. They walked along in uncharacteristic silence, absorbed in their own thoughts. George hardly noticed the route. They passed near Parliament Buildings but Pania did not point them out and George did not spot them. The path led down though an underpass. It was nearly seven o’clock; past the time when tired commuters crushed into the tunnel determined not to miss their trains. Now only the occasional straggler hurried past them.
At the entrance a paperboy called out to attract their attention, his words accompanied by the guitar being played at the other end. The acoustics in the subway were perfect for the buskers who regularly filled the space with their music. As they entered the tunnel someone dropped coins into the guitar case. The clink echoed. Pania looked up briefly. There was only one person coming towards them. The sound of George’s shoes and her heels on the hard surface echoes loudly. The approaching shoes made no sound. S
ports shoes or sneakers, she thought and looked down. Frayed jeans covered the approaching shoes and as the distance between them shrank she heard the swish of fabric on the ground.
They were in the dimmest part of the tunnel where yellow overhead lighting cast a feeble light. Despite his self-absorption George caught the flash of light on metal. He reacted instinctively. He lurched sideways shoving Pania towards the wall. A blade slashed through the air catching his sleeve and slicing a long tear through the linen then it clattered onto the concrete floor. The assailant sprinted away. Before they fully realised what had happened. Before George had time to spin around, he had reached the tunnel entrance. The skirmish was over almost before it had begun. Pania rubbed her shoulder. It was bruised from the force of her impact into the subway wall.
“Are you all right?” George asked. She nodded.
“How did you know?”
“I don’t know - I didn’t have time to think. I saw a flash and realised that he had a knife and it was coming at you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded and gave him a shaky smile. They stared at the knife abandoned on the ground then Pania saw the gash in his suit.
“Are you cut?” she asked reaching out to touch his arm. He looked down and saw the slash. He felt his arm and shook his head. “It was meant for me wasn’t it? They can’t have known you’d be with me ... He must have been waiting for me,” she whispered, “but how did they know I’d be here?”
George shrugged. “I guess they’ve sussed your routines. You got here by train so there’s a good chance you’d go back that way too. Maybe they had another plan ready in case you’d taken a car. Brady’s not one to leave things to chance.” Already they both knew that Brady was behind this. George pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket to cover his hand and picked up the knife. As his fingers grasped the handle the blade slid away.
“It’s a flick knife, good for street fighting. Most gangs carry them,” she said watching as he wrapped it, careful not to rub away any fingerprints.
“We need to report this to the police. It’s proof that we’re not exaggerating.” They both recalled Parsons’ lashing. George looked around and shook his head. “There are no security cameras here and no witnesses. Great place for an ambush.” The tunnel silence mocked him. “The busker’s vanished! He could have given us a description.”
“Perhaps he was an accomplice.” Pania shuddered. “What else has Brady planned?”
She got no answer. Her thoughts flashed back to their hostile meeting with Parsons. When George had enquired in passing about the staffing of the venues they’d been aghast to hear that Change Makers was to be responsible.
“The enemy’s within, CM’s our Trojan horse!”
The words had slipped out of her mouth and seeing their horror Parsons hadn’t waited to hear what else she might say. He had threatened her with dismissal in front of all the stakeholders. She’d been mortified. Then he’d had turned to George.
“Stop your bloody interfering Ritmeyer. You have no jurisdiction or authority. You’re only here at ROAR’s insistence. I will not be bullied or intimidated by a know-all Yank and I don’t care what your credentials are, you’re a waste of bloody time.”
“You’re a fool Parsons if you ignore our advice. I‘m perfectly aware that it is my duty to pass on intelligence and yours to consider it. You’re responsible for action and if you refuse to hear me out then you’ll be held responsible. Just imagine the consequences if I’m right. We have uncovered a threat and I have absolutely no doubt that it is very real-”
“Real? I very much doubt it. I’ll take on those imaginary consequences. We’ll all see who was right and it won’t be you Ritmeyer. I suggest you start looking for a new job. Once the UN gets my report it’ll be curtains for you. Now stop wasting my time.”
“How many others will suffer because of your arrogance? For God’s sake Parsons listen to me; not because I tell you to but because it will save lives.”
“Get lost Yank.”
Parsons turned on his heel and left them standing. He’d slammed the door hard. Embarrassed and uneasy, the stakeholders had followed him avoiding eye contact. They’d offered no support. Just sat on the fence, Pania thought bitterly, waiting to see what happened. They were blind to the threat. Perhaps they’d taken George’s warning to heart but they hadn’t had the guts to stand up to Parsons. The meeting had ended leaving everyone with an unpleasant taste in their mouths.
After the knife incident she had no more doubts. George was right. An attack was coming. Now they were both alert, on the lookout for further trouble. The caught the train just in time. The doors closed behind them and the train drew away from the station. She smiled at him as they found seats in an almost empty carriage.
“Thank you. If it hadn’t been for your quick reflexes I could be dead. That knife was very sharp. I’m sorry about your suit. It’s new isn’t it?”
George nodded. “The suit doesn’t matter and I’m so glad you’re okay. We were lucky.”
She laid a hand on George’s arm. It was time to discuss the issues and here they could talk without being overheard.
“I think it’s time to continue our conversation.”
George sighed. She wouldn’t be smiling at him soon he told himself.
“I thought it was forgotten, like a bad dream but it’s caught up with me. I still don’t know exactly what happened but I do know I made the wrong decision. You see Brady was the popular one. Where he went, I followed. He was my friend and I trusted him. Where was I?”
“You joined the UN and your security check was clean.”
“Oh yes. I never saw Brady again until my first visit to New Zealand in 2010. After that we occasionally passed each other - I should have realised something was up but I didn’t want to think.
“Then Brady rang and ... I‘m totally sewn up … and you’re at risk. I’ll do everything I can to protect you but I won’t give in to blackmail. Once Brady passes on his information to the UN I’m finished. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life behind bars.”
“On what charges?”
“Murder of course or being an accessory after the fact.”
“I’m sure the murder charge won’t stick.”
“How can you say that? You’ve seen the photos. They’re clear evidence as you said yourself. They’ll find the body. I’ve no idea what else they have but I’m sure they have a lot more evidence.”
Pania’s next words exploded so fast it took time for them to make sense.
“They have shit all, pardon the French. I know where the body is and that fact will save you.” George’s mouth dropped open. She grinned at him. His thoughts flashed over his face, doubt, fear, disbelief, hope, uncertainty. He didn’t know what to think. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I met her, yesterday, here at the airport when I was waiting for your flight. She’s very much alive and kicking. It was a hoax, a complete hoax and I have her statement to prove it. Brady’s little game is over. You have my word.”
The carriage wheels clattered filling the silence as George struggled to make sense of what she had said. He looked at her and Pania glimpsed a spark of hope in his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded vigorously. George’s brain was rearranging the pieces of his puzzle. The end of the tunnel seemed a long way away. She might be able to prove his innocence but Brady didn’t know that yet. George was in no doubt that Brady had every intention of carrying out his threats against Pania and the Forum.
“Brady’s threats against you and the Forum still have to be taken seriously and I won’t rest easy till it is all over. If Brady knows that his hold over me is gone, it might make him even more dangerous.”
The grin faded from Pania’s face as she remembered her near miss. Was that Brady’s really up to? Surreptitiously she crossed her fingers and touched the wooden seat.
“There’s not much we can do now. Parsons won’t listen to us and anyway we’re st
ill in the dark on what’s planned.” As she said that the train slowed and pulled into Petone station. “This is my stop. Let’s put the Forum issues and Brady’s threats on hold. Perhaps we’ll think of something in the morning.”
He nodded and followed her onto the platform. They both glanced suspiciously at the people getting off. Pania recognised most as locals. They were not being followed. Of course it meant nothing because Brady’s thugs knew where she lived. She smiled at George, glad of his company and, determined not to let her anxieties spoil her evening, she chatted brightly as they walked to her house. George looked about him, interested to see Pania’s neighbourhood. The light was fading and curtains were pulled across most of the windows. The only signs of life he saw were the occasional bright flickers from TV screens escaping from the cracks in the drapes or cats squatting sphinx-like on verandas out of the wind. People were inside and the streets were still except for scraps of paper tumbling erratically along the road. His lips felt dry and when he licked them he tasted the saltiness in the air.
It was George’s first visit and Pania had been looking forward to playing host. She put on a brave face and showed him around the section. It was green and thoughtfully planted to give maximum privacy. George nodded as she described how on a summer’s day, she could lie on the lawn under the tree and forget the city for a time. He had raised an eyebrow when he’d glimpsed her bright VW in the shed which aspired to being a garage, but had made no comment. Inside, the house was furnished with an eclectic mix of old and new. Liberty stood beside the armchair.
George was happy to see that the lamp suited the room. He’d struggled to find something appropriate and had examined the lamp several times before he decided to buy it. The desire to give her something had made him nervous and he’d wondered if he’d done the right thing, wondered if she’d take it as a friendly gift, nothing more. He hadn’t many female friends and none that he’d ever wanted to buy a gift for but whenever he thought of Pania in her little cottage he’d felt moved to get her a keepsake. Their paths were unlikely to cross after the Forum and for some reason which he refused to analyse, he didn’t want to be forgotten.
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