Assassin (The Billionaire Series) (3 page)

As the doors clunked into their fully open position, Donald
allowed Tom to turn back round and asked him to hit a light switch which would
reveal the new plane. Tom hit the switch, the lights blazed. But nothing. The
hangar was empty, completely empty. Tom’s stomach fell to his knees as he
realised that Alba One was missing. He turned to his father who looked across
to the pilot who shrugged his shoulders.

There was a structure at the back of the hangar which took up
less than a tenth of the total space but was nonetheless a substantial
building. Donald explained that those were the offices and suggested they go
and see what was going on. As they approached the structure, an almighty bang
erupted and the walls fell down, missing them by a matter of inches. Smoke and
Rachel’s screams filled the air. Tom turned to his father who was smiling. His
mother’s punch soon put an end to the smile as she struck Donald square on the
chin. Tom was utterly confused. But as the smoke, (or as it turned out) the dry
ice settled, Tom realised why his father was smiling.

Standing in front of Tom was a brand new Gulfstream G550 jet,
registration G-TOMI. He couldn’t believe it, his own plane! Not just any old
plane, an ultra long-range jet, capable of flying from Glasgow to Johannesburg
or Los Angeles, non-stop. Tom was speechless.

He had received an enquiry a few month’s earlier from an
anonymous customer using a Hotmail account. He had initially thought it strange
as his customers didn’t use Hotmail. Nonetheless, he completed the proposal and
delivered the quote. Tom had started his business a few years earlier. He was
fanatical about flying and knew everything there was to know about anything
that flew. One night, his father had asked for his thoughts on a proposal he
had been given for a new plane for his company, Tom had suggested a different
model giving various reasons. His father took his proposal seriously and from
that day on Tom had never looked back. He had set up his own company which,
within the space of two years, was worth in excess of £6 million. He offered
truly independent advice on any aircraft upon which many people and businesses
relied, including the most recent anonymous Hotmail customer. The request had
been for a small executive jet which would be both easy and safe to fly. It was
to be capable of flying from Glasgow to Johannesburg (coincidentally the same
distance to Tom’s school which was located on a small island in the Indian
Ocean). It would have a young and inexperienced pilot and this should be taken
into account. How Tom had failed to spot the clues escaped him, especially as
Lela had kept asking him if he had received any strange requests lately. He had
told her about the anonymous email and despite her fit of giggles, he still had
not clicked. Lela was fully aware of Tom’s business activities although his
parents were not. He wanted to surprise them in the same way that his father
had surprised his grandparents on his sixteenth birthday.

The Kennedys boarded the new jet and flew to Toulouse to do
exactly what Tom had wanted to do originally, to pick up Alba One personally.
On arrival at Toulouse however, Tom declined to fly back in Alba One in favour
of his very own plane, ‘Tom One’, although he was not yet allowed to fly it
himself. Everyone else plumped for the ultra luxurious A380 in which Rachel had
styled the interior and had, Donald complained, spent the same on the inside as
he had spent on the plane itself. This of course was nonsense, Rachel couldn’t
have spent $250 million on the interior even if she had tried.

***

“So have you actually flown it yet?” asked Saki.

“Flown it?” said Lela rhetorically. “He’s never been out of
it.”

“Yes,” said Tom nudging Lela. “I’ve had a few lessons, it’s
great fun. Mum’s still not happy though, but then I think Dad’s right, she’ll
never be happy about me flying.”

“Even when you’re fifty, she’ll hate it,” confirmed Donald.

“Well I’m sorry,” said an exhausted Saki, “but I need a
shower. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head over to the Lodge,” said Saki.

“You look like you need a good sleep as well. You look
terrible,” said Lela.

“Thanks!” said Saki. “Come on, let’s go home and you can tell
me what you’ve been up to,” he said to Lela while throwing a look to Donald
which said I’ll be back soon, we need to talk. Donald nodded while Tom watched
their interaction. This was becoming more worrying by the minute. What was
going on?

As Saki and Lela got up to leave, alarms went off throughout
the house, doors and windows instantly locked and security shutters dropped in
front of the bullet proof glazing. The Rottweillers went wild and could be
heard above the alarms. Donald tensed as his worst fears raced through his
mind. Saki, however, remained calm and began to laugh. Rachel rushed in.

“What’s happ…SAKI, you’re back!” Rachel threw her arms around
him, forgetting the dogs and the alarms.

Tom and Lela looked at each other as Donald looked at the
Rachel hugging Saki. They were under attack. Somebody had entered the estate’s
perimeter. The house was in full lock-down and they were hugging? But he knew
that they were completely safe. The house was impregnable. Everything was
covered, even an attack by tanks and bulldozers. As the alarm triggered, huge
metal barriers rose from the ground barring access to all vehicles. The
security shutters would protect against any shell or bomb blast. The only thing
that could break through was a nuclear blast but they had their underground
bunker for that eventuality. Nothing was left to chance. Within five minutes,
three choppers full of heavily armed Royal Marines would be on site to deal
with the intruders.

Although he knew that they should be completely safe, he could
not understand Saki’s reaction. Why was he laughing?

“Saki, why the hell are you laughing?” shouted Donald.

Saki said nothing but walked over to the security camera
screens. One screen was filled with an estate schematic which showed the exact
location of every person on the estate. Each person was individually identified
by a green dot. Two red dots flashed on the screen, the intruders were just
inside the gates. Twenty yellow dots surrounded them, the Rottweillers.

“Very impressive, the dogs caught them instantly,” said Saki,
still calm. He touched the two red dots on the screen and the security camera
zoomed in on the intruders. As the picture became clearer, the room filled with
laughter.

“Kano and Kisho! What are they doing here?” asked Tom,
recognising the twins, Lela’s cousins.

“Getting eaten by these bloody dogs if you don’t do
something,” came their response. Saki had switched on the intercom system and
Tom’s question had boomed out across the estate. Donald pressed the release
button and the dogs instantly stood down. The button emitted a high pitch
perceptible only to dogs.

Donald turned to Saki.

“But I just don’t get it, how did
you
get past the
dogs? They don’t know you?”

Saki pulled a small controller from his pocket identical to
Donald’s.

“I had a sample made when we were planning the controls for
the dogs. I’m just glad it still works!”

Donald however could not see the funny side, the stress was
getting to him. Saki noted Donald’s demeanour and placed a reassuring arm around
his shoulders. He led him into the study. Showers and sleep could wait. It was
time to talk.

Chapter 6

Beaumont was excited. In less than four hours, he would
present an update of the plan to The Committee. Up until that point, the
President himself had always updated The Committee on ‘Current Progress’ and
‘Next Steps’. This was his chance to shine in front of The Chairman.

The President and Beaumont had had a conference call with The
Chairman that morning. The Chairman told them that there would be
 
change to that evening’s agenda and that
Beaumont would be up first. The President protested it was
his
plan and the members expected
him
to be in control. At that point, The Chairman asked the
President to lift up his handset. Beaumont did not know what was said but
whatever it was, it was the first time he had seen the President silenced, not
only silenced but shaken. The President replaced the handset and suggested that
Beaumont leave early as he had a long drive home before the evening’s meeting.
Beaumont would normally use a Marine chopper to get him home but on that
occasion, was met only with a hearty laugh and a wave of dismissal. The
President was showing him he was still the boss.

Beaumont arrived at his family home in Virginia, a peaceful estate
in the heart of old America.

“Good afternoon Charles.”

“Good afternoon Mother,” replied Beaumont as he rushed through
the door and headed towards his private study.

“Now Charles, I brought you up better than that, come back
here and greet your mother properly.”

“Of course Mother, sorry,” he said through gritted teeth, as
he stopped, returned to his mother and pecked her on the cheek.

“Good afternoon Mother and how are you today?” he asked
sarcastically

“Better now, thank you. Now off you go.”

Beaumont, already in a foul mood from the unnecessary three
hour drive, was now ready to explode and almost sprinted to his study. He had
less than an hour to practice for that night’s meeting which, in his mind, was
the most important meeting of his life. After The Chairman’s earlier
remonstration with the President, he now more than ever wanted to be the Deputy
Chairman.

Beaumont closed the door to his study and sat in the same
chair his father and grandfather had used before him. At last he had time to himself
to work on the update. Nobody would interrupt him in the study, this area was
sacrosanct, a tradition that was almost as old as the family itself. In fact,
it was on breaking this tradition that Beaumont witnessed his ‘real’ father for
the first and only time. Beaumont had been enjoying an after dinner drink with
his mother when she collapsed, gasping for air and complaining of severe chest
pains. Beaumont immediately called an ambulance and screamed to the maid to
tell his father. She had refused, apologising that she could not disturb Mr
Beaumont in his study, even if the house were burning down, she could not
disturb him. Beaumont had shouted for the butler who had similarly refused. He
screamed at them, his mother was having a heart attack and they were worried
about disturbing his father’s peace and solitude. He pushed them aside and
stormed down the corridor to tell his father about his mother’s condition. He
reached the study door and tried to open it. It was locked. Every ounce of
anger went into thumping the door to draw his father out of his self indulgent
solitude. After nearly a minute of banging, the door opened, his father’s anger
evident in the slap he delivered to the young Beaumont. His father issued him a
chilling warning ‘don’t ever disturb me again.’ Beaumont protested that his
mother was having a heart attack. His father’s response shocked his son to the
core, ‘deal with it’, he said before shutting the door in his face.

The thought of his father’s actions now brought a smile to his
face which was quickly followed by a pang of regret for the father he had never
really known. He pulled himself together, he had less than an hour to prepare
for that night’s meeting and he had to impress The Chairman. Beaumont was
certain he was being tested, although the thought crossed his mind that perhaps
The Chairman was merely exerting his authority over the President by putting
him firmly in his place. However, he quickly dismissed these thoughts. The
Chairman did not need to play such childish games. He was all powerful and had
proved the point many times. Only just recently, everyone had been reminded of
The Chairman’s power. A Committee member had dared to disagree with his orders
and had refused to carry them out. Within an hour, the Committee member and his
entire family were executed by their own trusted bodyguards in a very public
display. It was only at the next Committee meeting and the silhouette of an
empty chair that the Committee members realised who the dissenting voice had
been and how dangerous The Chairman really was.

The red light changed to yellow on top of the unit sitting in
the centre of Beaumont’s desk. It was the only electrical product in the room
and one of the most advanced communication systems in the world. It could
detect the presence of any other power source and listening device. It
continually scoured its surroundings and should it detect any other device, it
would refuse to operate until the offending article were removed. This included
phones, tape recorders, music systems, computers. In fact, the only power
source Beaumont had found acceptable to the unit was a single low powered desk
lamp. He had even changed his Rolex watch to an automatic version as the
battery version had upset the unit.

The yellow light signified that everybody had checked in and
that the meeting would commence in two minutes. Checking-in required a thumb
and eye scan with the added requirement that these bodily parts be attached to
their owner. It also required the member to be alone and this was checked by
the unit scanning for heart beats and respiratory outputs. Should more than one
be present, the check-in would fail.

The green light began to flash, 10…9…8, the countdown to the
start of the meeting had begun. The real leaders of the free world (and soon
the entire world) were about to be in session.

The unit’s screen lit up and its centre was filled by the
silhouette of a man sitting in a large chair. A number of smaller silhouettes
surrounded the perimeter of the screen, each silhouette representing its
member.