Murray McDonald - Kidnap

“But…” Donald tried to interrupt but Sam kept talking.

“And as if that weren’t enough, the island is located within the remit of the newest NATO air and naval base which lies seventy five miles to the North East. This is home to a number of strike aircraft wings, a naval fleet and some thousand marines. Overall, this means that the school has a very powerful army, navy and air force presence which can cope with any eventuality. The school is also equipped with special underground bunkers which can cope with all nuclear and biochemical weapons.”

“Hmm, I suppose that sounds not bad,” said Donald.

Tom and Lela began to see a chink of light, a ‘not bad’ from Donald was praise indeed when it came to security. He didn’t even rate Number 10, the Whitehouse or Buckingham Palace as ‘not bad’.

“I should also point out that these are not training posts. Only fully trained personnel will ever serve there and their sole purpose is to protect the school and its students. The base is classified as a continual live exercise environment on high alert at all times.”

As Sam stopped talking, Donald began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He didn’t really know what else to say.

“OK,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. As far as he could tell, they had covered everything.

Tom and Lela looked at each other and thought one down, two to convince.

Rachel might not be so easy, she had already planned Tom and Lela’s education down to the last detail, culminating in Oxford or Cambridge followed by Harvard or Princeton, she really didn’t mind which.

“Rachel, Donald gave me your list of questions the other day. Should I run through the answers?” asked Sam confidently.

It was Rachel’s turn to squirm, she knew from his tone that Sam was going to impress her.

“As for an established educational philosophy, there isn’t one, it’s all completely new. Some of the world’s top educators from the best schools and universities spent years designing the curriculum. It is truly amazing. English will be the main spoken and written language but all classes will be equipped with simultaneous translation facilities in all languages. However, all students will be expected to learn English, French and Spanish as a minimum. The syllabus will include the normal stuff like Math, Physics, Chemistry, World History etc… However, they’ll be many more on top of those. Right from Year One, which is where Tom and Lela will start, they’ll learn about World Politics, World Economics, International Law, Accountancy, Business Administration, Leadership and Management Skills, amongst others. By the time students leave this school, they really will be equipped to run the world. Which is exactly why we’re doing it.”

“What about universities?” asked Rachel.

“As long as they graduate from the school, they have automatic entry to any course at any University in the world.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Rachel unable to control herself, automatic entry to Oxford, Cambridge Harvard or Princeton.

“But don’t get me wrong, there is no automatic graduation. The students have to pass each year before they are allowed into the next year, we stole that idea from the French and the students will have to work damned hard. It’s not only going to be the most exclusive school in the world but the hardest,” said Sam.

Tom looked at his mother, he could see her picturing the graduation ceremonies. Sam had nailed her concerns well and truly. By the look on her face, she was already convincing herself that 6,000 miles wasn’t that far nowadays. Two down one to go, he thought as he looked at Saki. He could see that Lela was thinking the same.

“Anything else?” asked Sam.

“I have one condition but it’s dependent on what the decision is, can we call you back?” asked Saki mysteriously.

“Of course,” replied Sam.

“Sorry, before you go,” said Lela. “Just one quick question, what’s the school called?”

They could almost feel Sam shift nervously in his seat as he paused before answering.

“Hmmm, that has proved a rather difficult decision. In fact, it caused more arguments than anything else. Some wanted a reference to Confucius, some to Plato, some to Socrates. In the end they all had to be ruled out as we couldn’t reach agreement. So in the end we went with,” he coughed nervously. “The Academy.”

“You’re joking?” said Rachel.

“I’m afraid not, anyway I’ll wait to hear from you soon. Bye,” he said, hanging up quickly to cut short his embarrassment.

As the call ended, everybody looked at each other and laughed. The Academy! What an unoriginal, boring and thoroughly inappropriate name for what had just been described to them.

Lela then remembered Saki’s condition and looked at him.

“Well?” she asked. “What’s this condition?”

“It’s irrelevant unless the answer is yes and even then it’s not that important,” he replied vaguely. Donald, realising what it was, jumped in to divert the attention.

“So what do we think everyone, yes or no?”

“Yes!” said Tom.

“Yes!” said Lela.

“Hmmm, I suppose 6,000 miles isn’t that far nowadays, it’s a yes from me,” said Rachel.

“Well, he certainly won me over,” said Donald. “The only way to educate you more safely than that would be to imprison you on the estate, which I don’t think is fair.”

“So, Saki, it’s a yes from you?”

“Yes, as long as they accept my condition.”

“Excellent! I’ll call him back then. Rachel, why don’t you take Tom and Lela to help you order the Indian, they know what we like,” said Donald, less than subtly asking them to leave him and Saki to their mysterious condition.

Five minutes later, a jubilant Donald and Saki joined them in the Lounge to await the arrival of their curry.

“It’s all done! You start at your new school in 4 weeks,” announced Donald, just as his mobile rang.

“Hello?” he answered, motioning for everybody to stop cheering, it was a bad line. Donald listened for what seemed to Tom hours but was in fact only one minute.

“Fantastic and thank you so much, I will look after it, don’t worry. Thank you again.”

Tom was already jumping up and down, he had got the gist of the conversation but still made him explain.

“Well, tell us?” asked Tom struggling to contain himself. The IBC deal would turn his father into the undisputed richest man in the world and by a considerable margin.

“That was the CEO of IBC. They’ve accepted Alba’s bid, it wasn’t the highest but felt we were the best fit. The detail will take some time to work through but it looks as though the completion date will be within the next ten weeks. So we’re not quite there yet, remember it’s not over until it’s signed and sealed.”

He slammed the phone down hard as he heard the news. He always knew it was going to happen, as long as Alba made the bid, he would lose. Conor and his band of idiots had cost him billions.

He pulled out the IBC file, it was rubbish now. He flicked through the contents one last time and read Conor’s CV again. Very experienced, very smart, very ruthless but it failed to mention his one major flaw. He was totally damned useless. Whoever had recommended him would pay for this, he thought as he flicked through the list of recommendations. It was only when he found the list that he recalled Conor had been second on the list.

He sat back and wondered whether it would it have worked if he had played it differently. He stopped. It was pointless. He couldn’t roll back the clock and start again. He stopped thinking about what had gone wrong and realised he should focus on what he could do right. He didn’t need to roll back the clock, he had plenty of time. His bid may have been rejected but the deal wasn’t signed. What was the old saying? Oh yes, it wasn’t over until the fat lady sings. He laughed to himself, or should it be until the rich Scotsman signs. He just needed a plan and the right man. He studied the list and made his decision.