Christen
Friday, Ruffles Hotel, Singapore
“My dad’s not going?” Christen sat on the bed, tugging on her hiking boot.
“No, I was talking with London last night at the cocktail party. She’s very excited. She’s here because her pee strip says she’s ovulating.” Johnna sent Christen a catty look, biting her lip to suppress the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth.
“She said that?” Christen held up her hand to halt Johnna’s answer. “TMI.”
“London wants a baby. She thinks they made one yesterday, but she wanted to go ahead and continue to do the deed for the whole time the strip says she’s ripe—her words—so she’s sure that it takes.”
“Uh, okay. Thanks for that nauseating visual. The end result is we’re going to go on our little field trip, and Dad’s going to stay back and boink wife number five to see if he can make another kid. Awesome. Where does that leave the mission?”
“The mission is a go. We’re reconfiguring.” Johnna moved over to the window and looked out. “You have a better view on this side of the building.” She turned back. “I have a question about your dad.” She let the curtain fall back into place. “Has he been ill?”
“Not that I’ve been told.” Christen’s brows furrowed. “Why? What did you hear?”
“He told Daniel and Karl that he’s staying back to take a call from his doctor. Which is interesting. Either there’s an actual call coming in or he didn’t want them to know he’s seeding the next generation. Or both.”
Christen reached for her other boot. “Daniel’s the guy that looks like a fire hydrant? No neck? Lots of flash and show? Never speaks unless he’s off in some corner chatting into his shirt cuff?”
“He’s the one.” Johnna pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Needing to stay back for a doctor’s call sounds serious on the surface. My bet is that he never planned to go on the hike whether London showed up in heat or not,” Christen said, not ever imagining a sentence like that would spill from her lips or those thoughts form in that configuration. “I can’t see him hiking through the forest in high humidity. He’s not really a jump on a surfboard kind of guy.”
“Are any of these men?” Johnna was dressed in clothes specifically made for hiking in these conditions, loose, light, water resistant but breathable. The cloth was designed to protect against brambles and were chemically treated to keep away the bugs. She’d brought similar clothes for Christen so they were both dressed to be as comfortable as possible.
Hiking in new boots though, Christen thought, was going to suck. “Yeah these guys are going to be complaining turtles.”
“Complaining turtles,” Johnna snorted. “That’s so accurate.”
“Karl told me they’d have a staff photographer who’s going along.” Christen looped a double knot in her laces. “I believe the goal is to take interesting photos of them doing manly things in exotic places – the kinds of carefully-staged self-deprecating photos that can be used in board meetings to tell a parable of their machoness. Sort of like Putin riding horseback with his shirt off and doing judo on grizzly bears.”
“With his shirt off.”
“And his saggy man titties. Seriously. What is wrong with people?” Christen stood, now fully dressed. “I’m just saying this out loud now; I will not be fireman carrying anyone out of the rainforest. Security had better be bringing plenty of folding stretchers.”
Johnna stood in front of the mirror and re-tucked her t-shirt. “Back to my question. Do you think your father is actually talking to a doctor?”
“He’s never spoken to me about the state of his health,” Christen said, thinking just how weird it was to have a parent who was so distant when her other one—her mom and she—were so close. Christen and her mom shared everything. Except this mission. No, this one Christen would not get to tell her mom about, and she could let go of the guilt about that too. This mission was classified.
“We’ll know soon enough. We’ve got their phones and rooms bugged. Lula is staying back to track him. She told him she had her meeting today and asked to join him in the helicopter when he goes to his island where she’ll connect with us.”
“He agreed to that?”
“Yup.”
“So it’s just us.”
“Yup.”
There was the knock on the door and Christen opened it to the bellhop. She stepped back to allow him in, then pointed. “These two bags go with those being gathered for the William Davidson party. This smaller case will go with me in the car.” She handed over her key card.
“Very good, madam.” He bowed as she walked out of the room to find Blaze standing guard. His back to the wall. Christen looked around to see if Gator was there, wondering if he would still be tasked with Johnna and her safety or if he would be reassigned now that her father and Lula were staying back.
Christen was surprised that the idea of Gator not going along affected her so strongly. She would have thought she’d welcome the distance. As the three took the elevator down, disappointment flooded her system and pulled down the corners of her mouth. She purposefully set those thoughts aside by conjuring her friends Prominator and Smitty. Were they back on base and okay? Were the Deltas? She sent a little prayer their way.
When the elevator doors opened, the three were directed to a waiting limousine which would take them to the airport and their short flight to a private runway in Tarutung, North Sumatra, just south of Orangutan Haven. From there they would take Jeeps to the east and their trailhead. They had a ten-kilometer hike into the rainforest, stopping for a catered lunch in the headhunters’ village before continuing another four kilometers to the yacht. She wondered if Blaze wanted to lay bets with her on the party’s ability to get back out to the yacht on their own power.
Daniel was standing extremely close to Gregor Zoric. That Daniel was speaking to a human and not his shirt cuff was remarkable, and Christen did her calculated blink to take a picture of the interaction and then another to turn her video back on. At least she thought that was what she was doing. Hard to tell. A little more practice might have been good.
Blaze directed the women to a limo with the door standing open. He peeked in then opened his hand to indicate they should enter. Christen climbed in first and swiveled into her seat, where she located her safety belt. Johnna followed her in. Blaze stood protectively blocking their open door scanning three-sixty.
Still no Gator.
Karl, an extremely taciturn Indian man, and Nadir climbed in. Blaze made a final sweep then sat in the seat next to Johnna. With a tap on the partitioning glass, they were off.
Right away, Nadir caught Karl’s eye. “You read the news this morning?”
Karl tipped his head to the side, inviting more information.
“Bowman was found by American mercenaries and was rescued from Djibouti.”
The atmosphere in the car changed. Everyone, save her and the Indian guy, had gone still and focused. This name meant something important not just to Johnna but the Blaze guy and Karl.
“They’re alive?” There was incredulity in Karl’s voice. And he’d said “they”. Nadir had said Bowman, a single name.
Christen used the window as a reflective surface to see the interior and to give herself a look of preoccupation.
“Both, yes, the husband and wife were taken to an American army hospital in Europe and now they are home and released from their hospital in the states. They have been interviewed by the CIA and FBI according to the paper and cooperating fully in trying to find the perpetrators. Bowman’s political connections will see that this is pursued. His business relations will insist on a conclusion to the case.” Nadir shot a look around the car’s occupants to find everyone otherwise engaged. He lifted his voice a little. “This is, of course, very good news for the international business community. Executives need to feel safe travelling the world. We are, after all, in a global marketplace.”
“What do you think this means in terms of the oil deal? Is he returning to Tanzania to develop a deal from Hesston Oil?”
“The article says he’s decided to retire after this incident. Indeed, I believe this incident has cleared the playing fields.”
In the window’s reflection, Christen caught the smile that flashed across Nadir’s face. She longed to pull out her phone and start an Internet search.
“My father had a lunch appointment on the last day we were in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. He was supposed to meet with three members of the Tanzanian Energy department.” They were back to speaking in hushed tones. But the car wasn’t that big. It wasn’t like Christen couldn’t hear – or they weren’t being picked up on the audio-recording devices that both she and Johnna had on.
“Lunch?”
“It was a private, friendly get together. No official business was to be discussed.”
Nadir gave a nod of understanding.
“My father was jumped by four men and saved by his security team.”
Again, Nadir made a sweep of the car’s occupants, before responding. “Do you know the names of the men he was meeting with?”
“He’s still trying to find the right players, the right pressure points.” Karl said cryptically.
“Momo Burhan was not at that meeting, I can assure you.” Nadir responded.
“How exactly do you know that?”
“He is dead.”
“Momo’s dead?” Karl leaned forward and twisted his body toward Nadir. “How? When? Wait, how do you know that?”
Nadir offered a closed lipped smile and tipped his head back, considered Karl as he looked down his nose at him. “Sources,” he said. “In terms of your ongoing negotiations, now that the eco-pawn is off the chess board, we can get some work accomplished.”
“The problem with the Bowmans, followed by the attack in Ngorongoro Crater means that this region will be considered a hot spot. The men who come to work for us will want hazard pay. The cost of business will go up.”
“Experts, yes. Of course, these incidents will also effect the local economy as tourism falls away, that means the locals will be desperate for new jobs and their wages will fall. It might end up that this works in your economic favor.”
“Even if this is so, the businesses will have to be extremely lucrative to follow through.” Karl said. “Our continued cooperation is the only way to make this happen. I’m glad you were able to join our little adventure. Thank you for coming.”
Nadir touched his hand to his heart. “May we always be friends.”
“I never wish us to be enemies.” Karl touched his heart in return.
The Indian looked up from his phone. Glanced from Nadir to Karl and back again. “The price of helium is up considerably today. This is very bad news for me. Very bad, indeed.”