The Devil's Handshake (28 page)

Immensely proud of his Intelligence Star he
had earned for the take down a Hamas terrorist in his backyard and
was locked up the vault in Langley, along with his freshly minted
U.S. passport, and the monthly salary the Agency paid into an
account for him that he would receive in full once he became
surplus to requirements to the Sheikh or needed to leave
immediately, nobody had known about his work outside the Agency not
even his closest family.

Although he didn’t even know his friend’s
real name who was also his ‘controller,’ their bond over the years
had grown into a true friendship, and when he was first approached
on a visit to New York in the “mid-noughties,” he did not have a
clue that his friend whom he had a met at a party of one of the
‘true’ traders of the Emirate was actually an intelligence asset.
Overweight, depressed and drinking too much over some of the things
he had been asked to do in his employer’s service all that had
changed the minute he went to work for Langley.

They gave him a purpose to his life. Now he
was part of the secret battle against the terrorists of the world
and was using his black book for something other than the whims of
the royal family.

When the phone rang from the front desk
advising him that his guest had just gone through the front gate,
he left his office to meet him.

A seasoned pro at avoiding the killing humid
heat of Dubai he arrived outside the famous hotel’s volcano
fountain just as the black Mercedes Benz S500’s, with the flags of
Adwalland on the front, passenger door was being opened by one of
the lavishly dressed doorman. Ignoring the two bodyguards, Rob
offered his hand to the man.

“
Minister, welcome to the
Burj Al Arab. I am Rob Ashley from the Hotel,” he said in his crisp
public school accent, using the hallmark of the hotel of, “Always
greet the guest before they greet you.”

Wearing a white linen shirt and black
tailored trousers with sandals with large ‘rapper’ style Gold Gucci
Sunglasses over his eyes, making him looking more like a pop star
to him than a Minister, Wasir Osman Hassan replied.

“
Thank you Mr. Ashley,” he
said, firmly taking his outstretched hand in the
process.

“
Mr. Singh has asked me to
look after you, so if you would like to follow me,” he offered as
he gestured towards the open front door. Making small talk was
something all trained hotel employees of a five-star hotel were
taught to do yet sensing Wasir wasn’t someone who engaged in the
art Rob instead just smiled politely at him.

Leading the way in silence up the escalator
past the fish swimming behind the glass wall of the aquarium, past
the indoor water feature, until they reached the lifts on the first
floor at the back of the Hotel. Once inside, the lift dropped back
down again to the Juna Lounge on the ground floor behind the vast
aquarium.

The lounge, rarely used in the daytime was
the perfect place; away from eyes, out of sight, and any possible
surveillance equipment as there are no cameras on the floor unlike
the conference rooms at the top of the hotel and as such that was
why Rob had arranged for the lounge to be closed for a private
meeting for his controller.

Opening the door, they found the Indian
sitting in the seat in the corner smoking a cigar playing the part
of a successful, rich Sikh businessman to the “T”.

Immediately on seeing them enter, the Indian
got up to shake Wasir’s hand. As he took it, Rob spoke up.

“
Gentlemen, I’ll leave you
to it, but if you need anything let me know and I will post a
Butler to look after you.” Before he left the room he gestured to
Wasir’s bodyguards who hadn’t moved to follow him. Initially
refusing, they finally did so when Wasir nodded his head for them
to go.

Sitting back down, Wasir got right down to
business straight away.

“
Gourgamangi! I understand
from Reza that you have a proposal for me,” he said
coolly.

All he knew at that moment came from his
friend from the bank while the both of them sat having a drink
together in the hotel nightclub in Bur Dubai he liked because it
was always stocked with blonde Russians, was that his new wealthy
friend whom he had hosted on his recent trip to Borama was
interested in exploring some business opportunities.

“
A good one Minister,”
replied Navjot as he exhaled smoke from his cigar before offering
one from his case to Wasir, who took the expensive stick but chose
not to light it, because his mind was focused on
business.

“
I would like to give you
the opportunity as we discussed to take your rightful place as the
leader of among your people,” Navjot continued.

“
No point beating around the
bush when offering to back a coup,” he had reasoned.

“
I am listening,” answered
the pirate cautiously rolling the cigar in his fingers as one would
do with worry beads.

“
If we become partners I
will give you three million U.S. dollars for security provision now
and another three per year followed by a undiluted thirty percent
stake in any ventures we undertake together in Adwalland and
anywhere else,” offered Navjot knowing full well it was higher what
he had agreed to with Litchfield a few months ago on his
yacht.

The pirate trying hard not to move his
position forward so as not to show his delight failed, because old
habits die hard. Navjot could see he had grabbed the man’s
attention.

“
A fair offer,” Wasir
replied his composure restored.

“
Which areas of our country
are you interested in? I am sure the Energy and Resources Minister
will be very helpful,” he asked and offered in quick succession
with a cruel smile.

“
All of it,” Navjot replied
as he exhaled the rich smoke again.

“
All!” Wasir answered in
disappointment.

“
That’s not possible. TLH
and the Russians have already signed agreements with the
Government,” he said as he waved his hand disappointed at the
Indian’s lack of understanding of his country.

Ignoring the theatrics while he continued
stare at the pirate to drive his statement, Navjot went for the
kill.

“
I have a solution I would
like to put to you,” he said. He was actually thinking if he didn’t
go for it then, nearly two months of work would be wasted. “What
about if I could bring in technical assistance at my cost to help
you to convince the tribal chiefs to support you?”

The ex-pirate’s eyes immediately narrowed
taking in the Indian in the process.

“
I am listening,” he
replied, now clipping the cigar.

31

Upper Barpham

Once a year ever since he started his
business, Thomas would host an event for his partners and
staff.

At first he had held the event at The Savoy
in London, but that changed when he purchased the lease of Farrow
Hall from the National Trust as a ruin in the mid-nineties.

The Hall in many ways was to Thomas a
representation of his success. First built in 1570 by his ancestor
it was best described as classic looking Elizabethan Manor with its
Boston ivy all over it.

Spread over fourteen thousand acres, over the
years and as his personal fortune grew Thomas had modernized the
estate to include the addition of a fifty-room luxury hotel,
serviced cottages, guest wings, and stables on the edge of the
estate.

Throughout the renovations and expansion he
had insisted that the refurbishment and development of all of the
buildings were true to original manor in order to maintain the
integrity of history that surrounded the property.

When the house was not in use by him or Nara,
the estate was run as a business offering a range of sports,
operated as a farm, and allowed members of the National Trust to
visit as per the conditions of the lease.

Originally, his assistants had managed the
program of events around the weekend, but when Nara entered his
life he allowed her to take over all the event planning. This was
why he found himself with her and Louise parked inside his study
going over the guest list and the seating plans for the
weekend.

The list included the UK Business Minister,
the local MP, CEOs, Oligarchs, Ambassadors, Financiers, Socialites,
senior staff, spies and finally because he was on charm offence,
though much to his distaste if not Nara’s as he had never allowed
the event to be photographed, a society magazine from Steve’s group
to record the event.

Something that he did draw the line under was
the magazine’s crude attempt to park a few of their contracted
starlets into the event to promote their profiles.

In fact, apart from the hired help for the
night and Steve Krivets’ latest starlet Danielle Becker and one or
two actresses or famous ballerinas attached to the arms of his
National Champion’s colleagues for the weekend, the event was a
true high society event.

Having reviewed the menus, declaring he was
satisfied with what the Michelin starred chef from the village was
going to prepare for both evenings and not just tonight, which
traditionally was purely for his team, he moved on to the
entertainment planned for each night.

Again using a record company within Steve’s
group, Nara had arranged for some of their musicians to be
supplied. Reviewing it, he found an exciting mix of modern pop with
a band of the moment and more to his taste a brilliant Jazz band
from Ronnie Scott’s plus, though he chose not to make a comment,
the addition of the Russian Pop group.

Looking up from the list he smiled at his
Nara then raised his eyebrow in mischief.

It was a quizzical look that said it all. She
took the bait.

“
I like their music,
darling!” she said with a glare, ready not to back down if he
attempted to take them off the list.

“
I didn’t say a word!” he
joked in return, knowing if he did he would be playing with fire
having already vetoed the fountain of ice surrounded by Iranian
caviar that would have cost a hundred thousand pounds for being a
little too over the top!

“
No caviar!” she had said in
horror with a look that looked like a knife had just been plunged
through her heart desperately trying to get him to change his mind
with one of her sexiest pouts. Nine times out of ten he gave in to
her, but this time he had not. For all her other talents, she had
never learned that having a mountain of caviar as a centerpiece
while a magazine was in the house was inviting a public relations
nightmare!

Review finished, Louise left the room leaving
them alone together. Assuming that Nara would follow he went back
to his paperwork on his desk.

“
Thomas,” Nara
asked.

“
Yes,” He said, looking up
to find a slightly worried look on her face biting her bottom lip.
A look that usually meant she needed something outside her usual
spending patterns.

“
I…h-a-v-e something to tell
you,” she nervously stuttered.

She had only found out this morning when her
doctor rang her to confirm the news. Immediately she had been awash
with emotions, she hadn’t told him that she had stopped taking her
birth control pills because she wanted to make sure that she
secured her place in his life by giving him a son and eventually
marry her. If she did she feared he might forbid her and quickly
decide she was surplus to his life in the future.

Over the years as he had never expressed any
interest, in adding to their family or marriage she had wrongly
assumed it was because, like the majority of her girlfriend
husbands or partners, he had other women that he enjoyed. So
accepting that he never threw it her face, ever the survivor, she
had parked it in the back of mind just as her friends did with
their men.

She truly loved Thomas more than life itself
over what he done for her and her mother, but because of her early
life she automatically assumed the day would come when he would
move on from her.

Taking her early life experiences as a base
she threw herself fully into making a baby with him. Much to her
surprise though to her delight Thomas had responded with just as
passion and was if anything even more passionate with her now than
when she first entered his life at nineteen or their weekend in
Venice all those years ago when they made their love child.

The result was the last couple of months had
been to her the most incredible of her life with him despite
missing her little girl terribly whom he had made her send away to
school.

“
Would he act like that
again?” she had thought, thinking back to the last time he was
angry with her and beat her all of those years before. Although it
had never happened since it was never far from her
thoughts.

By the look on his face, she knew he was
under a great deal of stress at the moment with the job he had been
given by the President of the Motherland.

Dispatching her worries momentarily as she
found the courage to tell, Nara said, “I am pregnant, my Thomas.”
She bit her lip.

As she said it, Thomas felt a thunderbolt
sear through him, but it wasn’t destructive or unpleasant in nature
rather an intense, powerful feeling of emotion, something he had
only ever experienced in his life once before.

“
Bloody hell!” he thought as
looked back stunned at his beautiful but terrified lover seated in
front of him.

Getting up, Thomas quickly walked around the
desk, fell on a knee, took her hands, looked into her eyes and said
with sparkling eyes.