CHAPTER 20
The small private plane vibrated on the wet tarmac. Its powerful heart strained against the brakes which held it in check, as the pilot completed the final stages of his pre-flight procedure, until it was let loose to fly.
A light shower of fine droplets of rain had fallen, causing the lights of the airport through the planes windows to become like twinkling starlight. He watched as some of the droplets slid across the windscreen. Their wet trails glistening behind them as the planes thrust eased him back into his seat and lifted the aircraft into the air.
It stayed up there for a little over three hours before descending to an airfield of a mid-western city.
As the pilot taxied the aircraft to a halt, a car slid silently from the shadows beside a hangar. The quiet spoken passenger alighted sure footedly from the plane, and folded himself easily into the car’s rear seat. The pilot felt a civilized dislike for their type of person as he watched the car leave the airfield. Of all the passengers he carried in this well paid job, those bastards were the worst. They always interrupted his concentration; he could feel them there behind him.
He had carried many of them over the past year, yet he still could not get used to them, and he’d noticed there had been more of them travelling lately. He watched as the cars tail lights turned through a gate and off down a darkened highway. Be it this town or one in the close proximity, someone was in really deep shit.
He tried to put the thought and the passenger from his mind as he taxied to the fuel bowsers to ready for the return trip south.
The passenger was driven for some kilometres along a near deserted highway to the outskirts of the city, where the driver pulled to the side of the road, leaving the car idling and the air conditioner on low.
It wasn’t really hot this night, though the draught the air conditioner produced in the car was comfortable, and the man in the grey suit appreciated its cool touch on the exposed parts of his skin.
The driver turned to him.
“There’s a small caliber semi-automatic in the glove box. You shouldn’t need it but you never know.” The man in the grey suit answered with a tone that touched on amusement. He knew his power and chose this moment to make it known, “This country bumpkin shouldn’t be too much of a hand full.” There was no hint of question in the statement.
The driver disregarded the passenger’s small talk and handed over an envelope.
“There’s some money for expenses, a plane ticket to the Gold Coast and a map from Sudovich. Just follow this highway and it’ll take you to where you need to go.” The driver then opened his door and walked off into the night. He didn’t think anymore of the man in the grey suit. His job was done.
Scott was the name of the man in the grey suit, and his job began by climbing over the console to make himself comfortable in the driver’s seat. When he had done so, a heavy bladed knife appeared from beneath his windcheater and he used it to slit the top of the envelope.
The heavy bladed knife disappeared again and he extracted a map from the envelope.
The name of a small outback town etched into his brain, as he turned off the car’s interior light and looked into the headlights of an approaching car. They cut the darkness and highlighted the road which stretched out in black before him.
It was just after sunrise when he sighted the outback town, after a long four-hour drive on a particularly straight stretch of road.
The monotony had been broken though, by the many times he had to brake heavily to avoid bounding kangaroos. They appeared out of nowhere, and then just as quickly disappeared again into the darkness. He didn’t look forward to the drive back, though his kind of person didn’t look forward to too much at all in life, just one minute to the next.
A hearty breakfast at a roadhouse gave him second wind as reread his instructions and awaited his second cup of coffee.
It came with a young waitress.
Scott noted her. His guess was that she’d be about thirteen and he immediately desired her. His initial grooming began the moment he’d read the address of his target, by asking the girl its direction, as he noted again her young ripeness.
After paying for his meal, he bought fuel for his car and drove around town to familiarize himself, before returning to the roadhouse and from there followed the girls directions.
She was accurate.
“Good girl”, he whispered.
He looked to the buildings at the address. It was an electrical tradesman’s small business premises, and he noted the yard which was very open and easy to observe. There was an office and sheds which were of old design. Nice house though, he thought, as his eyes travelled to the rear of the yard. To his professional side he noted the surroundings and possible points of access. The house was two stories high, with a pitched roof and plenty of windows. All the better to see you with he thought, as a vision of little red riding hood visited his mind.
A well-built man came out of what might be an office and pulled the door closed behind him. He placed the office doors key under a house brick at the corner of the building, before driving away in a truck.
The man in the grey suit yawned and decided to find a motel.
He booked into a place close to the electrician’s office, choosing a room whose window over looked the motels entrance road. A three-day booking should do he thought as he took in his rooms surroundings. Deciding on the best available escape routes was second nature to him. He slept for three hours and then showered before driving back to the roadhouse for lunch.
He was disappointed when he found that the young girl was not there.
Afterwards, and not wanting to rely on the motel switch board for his calls security, he walked to a public phone box and rang Sudovich’s new number.
“Are you ready to go ahead?” Sudovich inquired.
“Yes. I’ve already located the place. It’s a business premises and thanks to the owner, an electrician, I have access to his office,” said Scott.
Sudovich was impressed, but didn’t say so.
“The bait can be laid tomorrow. Call this number when you can see this electrician on his premises and I’ll do the rest from here.”
“If there’s no luck tomorrow, what do I do then?” Scott asked
“Then you sit there until there is,” came back Sudovich’s harsh voice. “And don’t go getting into trouble either. You’re there for one reason and one reason only. That’s to identify and deal with the thief. Understand?” Scott said that he understood, unperturbed by the lie.
He left the phone box and decided to walk to the roadhouse, it would be dark soon and he was hungry. He liked the roadhouse, not only for the food, but the thought of sweet, young meat.
*****
Abu sat in his large chair and contemplated time. Wondered how much he still had available; he was spending most of what he had in the office now, close to his communications. He needed to be close to them, for he had problems on two fronts.
His loss of a fortune, and the fact the rebel army was getting closer by the minute acted as a crystal ball might in foreseeing his future.
He held another whisky in his hand as he waited for his phone to ring. Either from his spies around the capital, who kept him informed as the events unfolded in the rebel war, or from Sudovich.
Sudovich would give the signal to send the fax which would hopefully locate the thief.
Abu looked at the message he’d printed. It was a simple and to the point. ‘Call me one more time, Abu.’
He startled as the sound of the ringing phone rang out through the room and then grabbed at the hand piece.
“Who is this?”
An answer came from across the world.
“It’s me, Garry.”
Abu did not greet Sudovich in his usual manner.
“Is it time?”
“Yes, it’s time Abu, send the fax now.”
“I will send it immediately,” and then added, “I have lost the game my frie
nd, now all I ask of you is to kill the thief for me.” Abu listened as Sudovich promised, and then dropped the phone down. He rose from his chair and walked with a slight sloping of the shoulders to the fax machine where he dialled the electrician’s Australian number. It made its necessary electronic tones before the message clattered through it and on its way.
He returned to his chair to wait and silently welcomed the knock on his door.
“Come,” he called
His new secretary’s head poked around the door to inform him that that rebel forces were within ten miles of the capital. He thought about this information, and remembered his revolution of eight years ago. He and Axele had covered that last distance into the capital in less than two days.
Time was getting short, and soon he would have to leave.