Murray McDonald - Assassin

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hi, it’s me, are you OK?” asked Saki.

“I’m fine but what about Dad?” he asked. “Can I speak to him?”

“He’ll call you soon. We just heard this nonsense ourselves, he’s on the phone to his Head of Legal. He asked me to call you to assure you it’s all rubbish.”

“It didn’t cross my mind that it was anything else,” he replied indignantly.

“I know Tom, don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted. Is Lela there? Can I have a quick word?”

“Yes of course,” he said handing the phone to Lela.

As Lela received the same reassurances from Saki, Tom explained to his friends what Saki had said.

“They’ve messed with the wrong people, your dad’s legal guys will have the press on their knees for this,” replied Tristan, the son of the UK Prime Minister and one of Tom’s closest friends.

“But they know that, why would they be so stupid as to go up against my dad?” asked Tom. He could not help think about the strange goings on over the previous few weeks.

“Hey come on, don’t be silly,” Zach slapped him on the back. “If your dad’s lawyers don’t get them, I’ll get my dad to bomb them to hell and back!”

Despite their best efforts, their friends could not lift their spirits and the party ended with everybody leaving before 10.00 p.m..

Tom phoned Kisho and Kano. He had to let them know what was happening.

Saki ended the call with Lela and looked around at Donald who was still on the phone to the lawyers. He could tell by Donald’s body language that the call wasn’t going well. It sounded as though whatever evidence they had against Donald was going to be difficult to refute. As they approached the palace the media circus drew closer and closer, cameramen and reporters vying for the best position.

Donald and Saki had known something was going to happen to them but had not anticipated being framed for mass murder. Saki took another look at the frenzied mass of press ahead of them and realised they could not possibly stay.

“Turn round, take us straight to the airport,” he barked at the soldier driving them.

“Sir I’m afraid I cannot do that, you have an appointment with the President,” he replied.

Saki asked again but the driver was insistent that they could not possibly turn around, he had his orders. Saki pulled the handbrake on and forced the car to a stop.

“What the hell are you doing Saki?” asked Rachel.

“Getting us the hell out of here!” he replied.

The driver did not take kindly to Saki’s interference with his driving and made for his pistol. Saki, having anticipated the soldier’s moves, had already removed the pistol from his belt. As the soldier’s hand fell on his empty holster, he looked up to find a smiling Saki holding his gun.

“Airport please,” asked Saki as if nothing had happened.

“Of course Sir,” replied the soldier.

Their trip to Africa was over.

Tom was woken up by his phone ringing. Who was calling him at 3 o’clock in the morning?

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tom it’s me,” said Donald.

“Hi Dad, what’s up?” said Tom who was still only half awake.

“It’s just a quick call to let you know we’re heading back to Glasgow. We decided to postpone the rest of the trip with everything else that’s happening. We should be home by lunchtime your time. I’ll talk to you then properly but please don’t worry, everything will be fine, OK?”

“OK, love you Dad.”

“Love you too son, now get back to sleep.”

Alba One thundered down the runway as the Captain was, in his own words, “getting them the hell out of Dodge.” The engines screamed as they lifted the huge plane off the ground and up into the night sky. The captain wasted no time and immediately began to bank the plane round to the right to take them on a northerly course straight home.

Donald had spared no expense on any portion of the plane, including the engines, opting for more powerful ones which had been developed for the slightly longer and significantly heavier cargo version of the A380. It meant that Alba One exceeded every specification for a plane of its type. She accelerated faster, could take off and land on a shorter runway and could, most importantly, fly almost as fast as the speed of sound. Jim, the Captain, swore she was faster than a Citation X, currently the record holder for civilian aircraft, but nobody believed him. He would prove it that night. His orders were to get them home as fast as the plane could get them there. He threw the throttles forward and the plane lurched ever higher and faster, thundering through the 3800 miles home. The journey would usually take over seven hours but he planned to do it in six.

Donald, Rachel and Saki released their seat-belts after a fairly terrifying take off. Jim was certainly taking Donald to his word. Donald could have sworn the turn on to the runway was done on half the wheels. The whine from the engines was intense, Donald had never even heard the engines before.

Nobody had said anything since they left Gabon other than what Donald had said to Tom. They were all physically and mentally exhausted.

“Sir, you were right, we just picked them up.”

Smith had received a phone call earlier that evening from Beaumont who suggested they keep a very close eye on the radar that night. He believed the Kennedys may have a sudden change of plan. Smith began to think the guy had a crystal ball as the number corresponding to Alba One’s transponder blinked on his screen.

“They’re really shifting. That guy is not hanging around,” said the radar operator.

Smith picked up the mic and pressed the transmit button.

“Guys, they’ll be over our airspace in 10 minutes. You know what you need to do. Don’t let me down.”

“Yes Sir,” came the response over the radio.

The two Mig-29s turned around and activated their afterburners. They had been circling slowly over the sea to conserve fuel. The fighter jets reacted immediately to the acceleration and pushed through the sound barrier with ease, quickly reaching their maximum speed of just over Mach 2.

They would be in position long before Alba One entered their airspace.

Donald had just got into his bed when the phone buzzed next to him. What now, he thought. It was a seven hour flight home and he was looking forward to sleeping for every last second of it.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Mr Kennedy, sorry to disturb you but I really think you need to come up to the cockpit.” Jim sounded very distressed.

“Is everything OK?” Donald was instantly worried.

Before Jim could answer, loud cracks could be heard outside the plane.

“Jim, what the hell is going on?” demanded Donald.

“Just get up here and quick.” Jim hung up.

Donald dropped the phone and ran to the cockpit.

“Alba One, come in Alba One.” The Mig pilot tried to make contact with Alba One.

Jim could see the pilot, he was flying alongside Alba One. He was ignoring the call. He then noticed another Mig 29 along the other side of Alba One but only for a second. It dropped back, out of sight and then suddenly fired 20 rounds from its 30mm cannon.

Donald rushed into the cockpit. He didn’t need to ask Jim what was wrong. The first thing he noticed was the large fighter sitting alongside as though attached to them on the right. Saki appeared right behind him.

Jim spoke as they entered.

“There are two of them, the one on the left just dropped back and fired some warning shots because I was refusing to respond.”

“What the hell do they want!?” Donald knew this was not good and had expected many things but not this.

“No idea.”