He kept a private office and apartment in New York, dealing with visitors to the United Nations and others, it was beneficial to not be in Washington sometimes. His wife’s family owned the building had done for decades; and although he did not have the penthouse, he was sufficiently elevated from the street to appreciate the view over Central Park. Arthur Jarrett’s bare feet paced the runner carpet, his wife placing it to ensure he did not destroy another section of her favourite weave. He thought better in bare feet, but his balding head was sweating, the swept back black hairs glistening. He stroked his V shaped beard, the pepper pot spikes rustling under his touch. To the casual observer he appeared the devil himself, but he was not as discreet and thorough as Satan.
He desisted his pacing and sat on his comfortable heated office chair. The elements and the leather combined to sooth a spine damaged by a helicopter crash in South America some years ago. The décor of the room, walls of regal red complemented by rich cream carpet. His wife considered the paint choice depressing but he liked the power it conveyed to his many visitors. He felt safe in this office, more than in the heavily reinforced Pentagon he occupied most weekdays. His visitor today promoted his feeling of political vulnerability, and he had invited this man, courted his favour, only to regret it rapidly. The gentleman was a representative of certain industrial interests in the Horn of Africa, and the assistance that Arthur Jarrett could provide, in return for healthy retirement fund contributions. He has no name, and Arthur knew better than to ask and be lied to again. He patted his brow with a cotton handkerchief, replaced it in his desk drawer, put his black ostrich skin shoes on and adjusted his seating position. His personal assistant showed the visitor in, sitting without being invited directly in front of the formidable desk. The visitor was not impressed or intimidated by his surroundings, or its occupant.
‘Mr Jarrett my associates are concerned that President Uncotto is not being co-operative in our plans to redevelop his country.’
‘Look, I am not always privy to these discussions. But I took it upon myself to discuss President Uncotto’s options with him face to face.’
‘I understand, but you have put a man in place to monitor Mr Uncotto’s actions, yes?’
‘Of course, but….’
‘We approached you to ensure that a US base for Africa Command would be constructed by The Consortium, and I thank you for that. However we need to ensure that other projects that will be supported by the location of this base are guaranteed.’
‘Military presence in this area of Africa is not a guarantee of stability; it can in fact focus terrorists in that area into attacking US assets.’
‘I am sure that no terrorist cell is going to attempt to attack a US military airbase in Mabalia, they would be dead before they got ten miles.’
‘I do not think that would be their main concern. I can understand President Uncotto’s misgivings about us pushing the issue.’
The gentleman sat back relaxed, folding his hands over his prominent stomach, inter-lacing his fingers, ‘There is an alternative to President Uncotto, we approached him some time ago, and following his address to the United Nations we feel Uncotto is not best suited for his country’s interests.’
Jarrett had many sources, both official and unofficial in a variety of positions at home and abroad, they had taken years to establish and had proved reliable, but he knew nothing of this alternative. Concerned his lack of knowledge might increase his visitors mistrust he remained silent.
‘Would you like to know who it is?’
Jarrett knew this game well, your opponent pushing his advantage, reading your face, detecting a micro expression that would indicate victory. With no response verbally or visually, just a cold unnerving stare, the visitor capitulated remarkably swiftly, expelling his information. ‘It is Chui Enzi, the Head of Internal Security in Mabalia, we feel he will command respect and be more compliant to our needs.’
Jarrett played the advantage, relished the opportunity to push it, ‘Chui Enzi is currently in Panama, meeting with one of my contacts.’
The visitor was not as accomplished as he thought; the information that Jarrett fired was unwelcome and surprising. He poorly attempted to conceal his reaction, ‘Yes we were aware of that.’
Jarrett had him now, seeing the lie, the distinct eye movement, ‘He is seeking a solar powered device, to enable Mabalia to not rely on oil for energy in the future. But it could be interpreted by some as an attempt to gain a WMD’
The visitor was reeling against the ropes, his interlaced fingers leaving sweat stains on his blue cotton shirt. Jarrett forced another barb home, ‘I presume you were aware of this, and my actions to resolve the issue and diffuse the situation.’
The visitor of course had no idea, and was unable to bluff, ‘No we were not, why were we not informed?’
‘I felt it prudent to resolve this issue without directly involving you, or seeking your approval. That is what you consult me for?’
The visitor was riled, a small vein pumped rapidly at his temple, ‘And have you secured this item yet?’
‘Not yet, but within the next few days I will have control of the situation.’
‘And what of Mr Enzi?’
‘Well he is a liability. He has this arrangement with you, and yet still seeks something that will damage your development goals? Do you trust him?’
‘My trust is earned by those I offer it to. Mr Enzi has damaged his trust. Can you resolve this for us?’
‘Before you arrived, I had already agreed to dispose of Mr Enzi, once he had retrieved this device.’
‘How very shrewd of you. Do you think we can still use him?’
‘I do not think that is a possibility, your knowledge of this situation should afford you a healthy advantage from which to re-negotiate with him, but you have a very limited window of opportunity.’
‘Yes, quite. I think we can seek out other candidates. You have been most thorough and resolute Mr Jarrett.’
‘I am always so. Should I wait for your call before taking action against Enzi?’
‘That is not necessary. You look after Enzi for us?’
Jarrett stood, waiting for the apology. The visitor prompted and offered his wet hand to Jarrett, he looked at it, the visitor wiped it on his suit trouser and then re-offered it. Jarrett shook it once firmly and then showed the gentleman out; the private elevator would deliver him to the discreet underground car park entrance. The door closing firmly behind him, Jarrett returned to his desk, ‘Apology accepted.’
TWENTY NINE
Katherine bailed out of the escape hatch on the return leg of the Global Surveyor’s wayward journey. She dropped at one hundred twenty miles an hour, but was blown off course. She had done private free-fall jumps before, but only three HALO jumps, from this altitude it was something new and wonderful. Exhilarated by the descent she corrected her course landing on the opposite side of the mountain, in a small clearing, but she did not presume undetected. She stashed her chute in a rucksack, drew her weapons, a suppressed Colt M4, and her trusty sidearm, moving off towards the checkpoint.
She came across the expected guardhouse on the far side, two guards, one eating, spilling food down his shirt, the other attentive and smart. She removed her jump suit and stowed her weapons, guns were not the solution here. She was about to approach the guardhouse when she saw an officer coming over, he talked to one of the soldiers and then left with him. She ensured they were not going to return, and then moved onto her target.