Murray McDonald - Assassin

Tom looked at Kano, he wasn’t kidding, this wasn’t up for debate.

“OK, I’ll take Lela,” he said. “She certainly won’t upset the locals.”

Kano looked at Kisho who, having spotted the Alba jet, was fairly confident he knew what Tom was up to. Kisho shrugged a ‘fine with him’. Lela could probably kick both he and Kano’s arses anyway. Kano nodded that this was acceptable.

Tom entered the combination for the war chest as he called it. The chest contained several hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash. It was common practice for private jets to carry a stash of cash as not all airport refuellers accepted credit cards and pilots never knew where they may be forced to land. However, it was uncommon to carry the amount held on Tom One but Donald had insisted they should have enough to buy themselves out of just about any hole they may fall in. He withdrew $150,000 before locking the safe and leaving with Lela.

A large well dressed man met him, counted the cash and nodded to his colleagues. They went straight to work and the plane shuddered under their efforts. Thirty minutes later, the men were finished and the plane was ready to go.

“Thank you again,” said Tom surveying their work. “It’s fantastic.”

“Amazing,” said Lela.

“No, no, thank you,” said the man, gesturing towards the bundle of cash.

“Not at all,” said Tom. “It’s more than worth it. You’ve been great and if there is ever anything I can do for you, please ask,” said Tom.

“It's ok, just tell young Rolf you were happy and I’ll be more than delighted.”

“Of course,” replied Tom, beginning to wonder how active young Rolf was in his father’s business. Rolf had proved, yet again, that whatever was needed, Rolf could get it and fast.

As they walked back to the aircraft, a jeep appeared and drove straight towards them. All that could be seen in the darkness were the full beams shining towards them. As Tom and Lela reached the top of the stairs to the plane, the jeep drew to a stop less than five yards away from them and killed its lights. Five men jumped out and ran towards the aircraft each dressed entirely in black. They silently ran up the stairs and slipped into the cabin before the door shut behind them. It was then that Lela, Kano and Kisho recognised them. They were four islanders from Penaraja led by Papa, Lela’s grandfather, the elder and leader of the Penarajans. Lela hugged her grandfather and refused to let go. She was very pleased to see him.

Kisho had guessed that Tom had organised some help but hadn’t expected Papa and the islanders. Tom explained that he had called Papa, they had discussed the options and agreed that there was nothing to lose by their coming and being ready, just in case. They had flown in early that morning.

Without further ado, Papa took control of the plan to break in and out of the prison. Within twenty minutes, even Kisho and Kano were beginning to think they might just pull it off.

Once the plan was agreed, Kisho and Tom got them back in the air. With less than an hour until they landed, they all began to get ready. The cash safe was not the only safe on board the plane. Befitting their status as bodyguards, Kisho and Kano also had a weapons safe. Kano punched in the code and extracted the small arsenal they had. The islanders had brought some weapons with them but preferred by far the ones on offer by Kano and Kisho.

The story breaking early caught Smith off-guard. He had been told it would not break until the following morning but it broke a full 12 hours early. His men were still getting into position. He had arranged for over forty of his men to take up station with the prison guards. He wanted to ensure his plan worked. He had also arranged for ten of his toughest men to masquerade as prisoners and initiate the riot. They would ensure it lasted long enough to cover the murders of the Kennedys.

Another ten of his men were stationed at the prison’s main entrance. He didn’t want anybody getting in or out until the job was done.

Unbeknownst to Smith, Jones and his men, had also arrived that afternoon. Their plane had been escorted to a private hangar by a very bribeable customs official who chose to ignore the heavily armed men in favour of a large pile of cash. Jones’ orders were clear. He was not to let anything go wrong, if Smith failed he was to make sure that the Kennedys died. He placed his men around the perimeter of the prison, thereby throwing an additional cordon around Smith’s men. He had also left a couple of men back at the airport. Having been forced to land Alba One was still there and was effectively abandoned. Jones organised a little modification for it, as a precautionary measure.

If nothing else happened that night, the Kennedys were going to die.

As they began their descent, Kisho began to feel nervous about the reception they would receive. Afterall, they were about to land in a country whose President had arrested the Kennedys for mass murder.

“Have you thought about how we’re going to cover our arrival?” asked Kisho.

“I’ve thought of everything, don’t worry, just leave it to me,” said Tom.

Two minutes later, Tom opened up the mic. to talk to the control tower at Malabo airport.

“Malabo Tower, this is Gulfstream One, can you please clear us for landing.”

“Gulfstream One, we have no notification of your arrival at Malabo, can you please confirm your airport of origin and the purpose of travel to Equatorial Guinea.”

“Malabo Tower, I would not like to be in whosever shoes has messed this one up. Our Origin was Savannah Georgia and our purpose of travel is to deliver your President’s shiny new jet. Next you’re going to tell me that a hangar’s not been made available.”

Panic ensued below them as Tom had predicted. The tower staff contacted the ground staff who quickly emptied a hangar. With no idea how big the plane was, they just emptied the biggest one available. The manager of the control tower took over the communication with the Guinean President’s new plane.

“Gulfstream One, of course you are cleared to land, runway 22 and apologies for my subordinate, he will of course be disciplined for his stupidity.”

“Thank you Malabo Tower, I’m glad we sorted that out. I didn’t want to have to fly back to Georgia tonight,” replied Tom.

“Very impressive!” said Kisho. “But you do realise that when we land we’re screwed. The Alba logo and G-TOM1 are hardly going to look presidential.”

“Hmm good point. We’ll just have to see what happens. Anyway, time to land,” said Tom cutting the discussion short as they made their final approach. They soon landed and followed an escort to the hangar set aside for them. As they came to a stop and the doors to the hangar closed behind them, Kisho opened the door to the plane and waited for the electronic staircase to unfold. The Airport Manager arrived, obviously called out of bed, for the arrival of the important new jet.

“Hi,” said Kisho expecting them to shoot him on sight for the lies Tom had told.

“Good evening Sir,” replied the manager. “What a beautiful jet for our President.”

Kisho was baffled until he followed the Manager’s gaze and looked along the side of the plane. The Equatorial Guinea flag and new tail registration looked back at him. He also noticed half a seal next to the door and assumed correctly it would be the President’s seal. Kisho kicked Tom who was standing right behind him, just out of the Manager’s view.

“May I come up and have a look?” asked the Manager.

“Impossible, I’m sorry,” responded a very stern Kisho. “The President himself has not yet seen the aircraft, I couldn’t possibly allow anybody on board before him. I’m sure you understand this protocol.”