10. HOLLAND made contact with Alexandra, who, in conjunction with the FBI and her father, initiated the first phase of the operation. LAKE entered the parking lot of the Miami Sands Hotel, and initiated a staged argument with his daughter. Police officers interceded, and LAKE attempted to draw a concealed weapon, and was shot twice by one of the officers. A decoy bag of marked money($2,000,000) was left and HOLLAND collected it during the confusion.
11. With LAKE now believed to be dead, HOLLAND proceeded to import the Cocaine. However, undercover agents tracked the shipment, and there was a large-scale interception made at the point of pay off.
12. Eight men we killed, including HOLLAND, two of his lieutenants, Winston GALE and Michael MOORE. Five unknown Jamaicans were also shot dead and four men were arrested.
13. The Cocaine was seized, and was in excess of the initial estimate and has a street value of over $20,000,000. The cash picked up by HOLLAND was also located intact together with a further $10,000,000 in used $100 bills.
14. I wish to bring to your attention the courage and selflessness of ALEXANDRA LAKE, who for a young woman of only 17 years, has displayed enormous integrity and loyalty in the face of personal danger and difficulty. Her relationship with her father is difficult as she distances herself from his dishonest and amoral dealings. She is, in short, one heck of a girl.
15. JONATHON LAKE is now in the witness protection programme, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned, died in the parking lot that evening.
Submitted for your information, and dissemination as appropriate.
Robert L. Garside.
Dep. Director. FBI.
“So, it is all over?” I said, giving the report back to him.
“Looks that way. I have to give you this.”
He handed me a death certificate. My father’s death certificate, and it was signed by the official in Miami.
“What about a funeral?”
“We are arranging for his ashes to be delivered to your home address. That is the official line, as you requested cremation.”
“I did?”
“So my boss said.”
“Then I must have done. Do I have to report this to my consulate, or something?”
“There is a covering letter, we have notified the consulate, but you’d be advised to drop into the British Embassy here in Washington before you fly out.”
“Thank God. Am I allowed to get on with my life now?”
“Sure. And my boss says, ‘Thanks and good luck’.”
I smiled, feeling very weary. It was all so clinical, just seeing it written in a report like that. It was rather an anti-climax somehow.
The agent left, and I went to find Simon.
He was on the phone in his room. I frowned, as he hadn’t used his room at all, since he slept with me.
He finished his call and smiled.
“Hi, I saw you had company, was he FBI?”
“Yeah, it’s over at last. Holland is dead.”
“Oh, great. So life can carry on as usual.”
“Some life. I am going back to an empty house, and an empty life without you.”
“When does school start?”
“Next week. I think I am going to drop out. I have enough money, maybe I can get a job near you?”
He held me in his arms.
“I don’t know where I am going to be.”
I frowned, he was being uncharacteristically secretive, and having lived with Dad for so long, I knew when things were being kept from me. But I let it go, as I was too tired to make an issue of it.
“Fancy a walk?” I asked, and we went for a last walk.
“I am going to miss you so much.” I said, with my arm wrapped round his waist.
“You’ll get stuck into your studies, you won’t even notice the time.”
“I bloody will. Every night as I go to bed alone.”
He smiled, and held me close. I appreciated his size now, and smiled as I had disliked it when I had first seen him.
“What time is your flight?”
“Eight in the evening, it gets in at seven am UK time.”
“Well at least you can get some sleep.”
“Wow. What fun.” I said, and he laughed.
“So what are you doing tomorrow?” I asked.
“Mom flies back to New York, and I am flying to my new job.”
“Oh yes, what is it?”
“Teaching art in a high school.”
“Lucky buggers. I wish you would come to Britain. I’d stay on at school if you were my teacher.”
“That would be cool, but hardly professional.”
“What?”
“Sleeping with a student.”
“We wouldn’t do much sleeping,” I teased and he laughed.
“I am going to miss you so much,” I repeated.
“I know, me too. But, we will get together real soon.”
“Yeah, fat chance.”
We looked at the White House, which was all lit up, and walked back. I didn’t feel like talking, as I was feeling bloody miserable, for two reasons, my period and I was leaving.
We went to bed, and I just wanted to be held, and Simon cuddled me all night. I cried a little, but eventually dropped off to sleep.
The next day, after breakfast, Natasha came and hugged me, and gave me a huge cheque.
“I want to book you for next year. And if you ever get qualifications in design, you will come and work for me,” she stated, and I smiled. Simon certainly knew his mother.
She gave me any of the clothes from the collection that I wanted, and I took eight. It was very generous, but she explained that this show tour had gleaned record orders, and she felt that it was wholly down to me.
“I can’t guarantee the same publicity next year,” I said, and she laughed.
“Next year we will be planning a wedding,” she said, and I laughed, but uncertain whose wedding she referred to.
Simon held me for ages, while I wept unashamedly.
I watched them all depart, feeling really miserable. I packed, and went to the Embassy and registered my father’s death. It was surreal, as the clerk was very sympathetic and obviously was only aware of the story from the newspapers and TV. It had made the TV news in the US, and also in the UK. I then spent the rest of the day wandering round the Smithsonian.
Finally I took a cab to the airport and checked in. I had to pay excess for my heavy luggage, but what the hell, my dresses were worth over $15,000.
I went to the first class lounge, and waited for my plane. A couple of people recognised me, and I signed autographs, but I was mainly left in peace. The flight was announced, and the first class passengers were boarded last. I made my way to the aircraft, and was shown to my seat. The seat next to me was unoccupied. I hoped it would remain so.
I sat down, and leafed through the magazine. Someone arrived and put their bags in the overhead locker. Damn. There went my solitude.
I looked out the window at the ground crew getting ready to push back.
“Does this plane go to London?” this voice asked.
Silly fool. I thought, and then recognised the voice. I spun round and saw Simon smiling at me.
“Surprise,” he said, as I punched him on the jaw.
He rode the punch and I hurt my hand.
“You bastard!” I said. “I was bloody miserable, and you fucking well knew.”
He grinned, opening his arms, and like a complete idiot I went to him.
“I couldn’t tell you, I wanted to surprise you.”
“One thing you need to know about me. I hate surprises.”
“And you have a mean right hook.”
I smiled, and kissed him better.