Murray McDonald - Assassin

“Alba One, if you fail to respond, the next shots will not miss.”

Donald nodded to Jim to respond.

“This is Alba One, how can we help you?”

“Alba One, you are currently flying over Equatorial Guinea airspace and you have on board a criminal by the name of Donald Kennedy, please follow us to our airfield where you can land.”

“Criminal, Donald Kennedy?” Jim blurted, “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous, who are you?”

“We are the Equatorial Guinea Air Force and you Sir are under arrest. We have orders to shoot you down if you attempt to flee our jurisdiction.”

“But we’re over international waters?”

“We can debate that on the ground. You can either come with us the easy way or you’ll come down the hard way.” The tone of the Mig pilot’s voice left no room for doubt, he would shoot them down.

“Saki?” Donald asked.

“Not my area. Jim?” responded Saki.

Jim was a former RAF fighter pilot.

“I don’t think we have any option, they are serious and there’s nothing we can do. Just one round from that cannon would rip through us like a hot knife through butter. Never mind the missiles.”

“OK, start following him, I’ll phone the lawyers,” responded Donald, heading back to the bedroom to break the news to Rachel.

“Where do you want us to go?” responded Jim to the Mig.

“A very good choice Captain, follow my colleague.” The other Mig zipped in front of the A380 and began to steer them on a course which would take them to Malabo, the capital of Equatorial Guinea.

Jones’ plane touched down and he instantly sensed a problem. Across the runway stood the US Airforce C4 °C jet, a modified Boeing 737–700 jet used by government dignitaries. However, instead of standing on its own, awaiting an afternoon departure, it was surrounded by technicians and crew. It was preparing for a much earlier departure.

He had been instructed that no foul play was to be suspected in the death of General Powers. They could not afford to raise any suspicion. It had to look like an accident and to Jones, there was no easier way to cover an assassination than a plane crash. He had a bag of tricks that would ensure the plane and its passengers would never reach their destination.

As their plane taxied to a stop, he and his men discussed what needed to be done. One man changed into maintenance overalls as they refined their plan. To cover their tracks properly, they needed at least an hour with the plane to ensure that the ‘accident’ looked like an accident. With the US air crew all over it, they had no choice but to delay the take off long enough for the crew to take a break and leave the airfield.

They disembarked and as his ‘maintenance man’ went to arrange a lengthy delay, Jones made a call.

“That was quick,” answered Beaumont.

“It’s not done yet, there appears to have been a change of plan. The plane was being readied for take off as we landed.”

“But he’s not due to leave for hours yet,” said Beaumont looking at his laptop. He pulled up General Powers’ itinerary and noted that no changes had been made. He was still scheduled to leave at 3.00 p.m. South African time, over 9 hours later.

“Are you sure?” he asked

“Definitely. That plane was going to leave within the next hour. He must have finished early.”

“Maybe,” but Beaumont didn’t like it, the whereabouts of General Powers was a national security issue. Any change to his itinerary should be communicated to the White House.

General Powers had just got into his car for the short trip to the airport when his aide tapped him on the shoulder.

“General Powers, your pilot has just called. There’s a problem with the aircraft, I’m sorry Sir.”

“No! Please, not today! I’m going to see my son,” he replied.

“I know Sir but it’s not good, he says it’s going to be quite a few hours.”

“He’s positive?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Any other way we can get to the island?” he asked hopefully.

“I looked into it Sir but we have no other aircraft nearby, certainly not close enough to be cost effective.”

His aide felt awkward about subtly reminding him that the trip to see his son was not within his government duty and therefore not strictly allowed. It was only through the loyalty and respect that his flight crew and staff had for him that the ‘slight’ detour on the way home was at all feasible

“OK, pass me the phone and I’ll call Zach.”

Jones’ maintenance man slipped under the aircraft unnoticed and was able to cause enough damage to the undercarriage to ensure a specialist would be required to fix it. He then got up, walked nonchalantly past the plane and as he did so, he stopped and stared at the wheels. Before long, two members of the USAF crew came to see what he was looking at. They spotted the tell tale oil drops leaking from the undercarriage.

A closer inspection resulted in the plane being rolled back into the hangar where work to repair the burst hydraulic system would begin. One of the technicians swore blind that he had checked it thoroughly and that it had been fine. A simple ‘does it look fine to you now?’ response silenced him. The hydraulic specialist confirmed that it would be a five hour job. The USAF pilot stood his crew down and they all went to get some rest, it was going to be a very long day.

Jones and his men, dressed as maintenance staff, joined the hydraulic specialist and got to work.

Donald had not slept all night, he could not believe what had happened.

On arrival at the Guinean airport, they were met by over 100 heavily armed troops. He, Rachel and Saki were arrested and taken into custody. They were each listed as a Director of Alba International and, as such, were charged with the corporate manslaughter of over 2,500 Guineans. Donald had protested that Rachel and Saki’s directorships were nominal and non-executive but his protests were ignored and they were taken to the only high security prison in Guinea. The prison housed some of the hardest and toughest criminals in Africa.

Donald had to restrain Saki who wanted to react to one of the guards who had pushed Rachel much harder than was necessary. They were surrounded by guards with guns, even Saki could not get them out of this one.

They were taken to a special unit within the prison. Donald and Saki were put in one cell while Rachel was in the cell next to them on her own.

Just before they had landed, Donald had managed to phone his lawyer who wasted no time in making calls to clear up the enormous misunderstanding. However, in less than ten minutes, he discovered that his efforts were futile. He got the same response from everywhere. A dossier had been delivered, within the hour, to each of the major heads of state, detailing the evidence which implicated Alba International and Donald Kennedy in the atrocities committed against the Guinean people. The Guineans had declared their intention to use all means necessary to bring the fugitive to justice.

The lawyer had called Donald back and broken the news, explaining that a copy of the dossier was being sent to him from the UK Prime Minister and as soon as he had it, he would call him back. Donald knew it would be too late. They landed five minutes later and were arrested five minutes after that.

They were therefore still in the dark about the evidence which implicated them and Alba in an explosion in the middle of nowhere in a tiny town which until 48 hours earlier, they had never heard of.

“We should have phoned the kids,” said Saki annoyed at himself.

Donald snapped out of his daze.

“I know, they’re going to find out from the media. It’s my fault, I didn’t think for a second they would lock us up.”