Stan Mason - Stopping World War Three

He took the suitcase from my hand and I stared at him closely. He was rather short and stubby with dark hair, incredibly dark eyes, wearing an immaculate white shirt which was open at the neck, black trousers and shiny black shoes. He had been blessed with a set of perfect white teeth although he chose to exhibit one gold tooth on one side. His smile was engaging… at the same time his English was excellent.

‘I’ve arranged for a car to be waiting for you,’ he informed me, clearly intending to care for my every need. ‘If you’ve been here before, you’ll notice that many changes have taken place. Modernisation schemes include a new transport system combining and underground railway, a tram network, a railway, a rail tunnel under the Bosphorus, and a World Trade Centre close to the airport. They’ve also begun to align the commercial suburb of Levant with Taksim, the business heart of the city by means of an underground railway line.’

‘This is my first visit,’ I admitted as we walked out of the airport building. ‘I’ve not been here before.’

He led me to a black car opening the door and motioning me into the back seat after which he placed my suitcase in the boot.

‘Never been here before, eh?’ he repeated. ‘Well you have some Turkish delights ahead of you. Perhaps I ought to tell you a few things about the place… other than the belly-dancing at the leading nightclubs. You can get a boat trip along the Bosphorus which is really the best way to see the city. No hustle, no bustle! The passenger ferries zig-zag all the way along the coast. The old imperial centre of Stamboul is a colourful place where you can find many of the main sightseeing attractions. The Ottoman Topkapi Palace and archaeological museums, the Sultan Ahmet mosque, the Blue mosque, amd Aya Sofya, the Byzantine church. The area is also famous for its covered bazaar… the world’s biggest bazaar. Nearly five thousand shops covering ninety-two streets. If you get fed up with the minarets and mosques, you can always visit the sixteenth century tiled baths on Itfaiye Caddesi.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied with little enthusiasm. I had business to attend to in the city… there would be no time for sightseeing!

‘You may be interested to learn that they elected Turkey’s first woman Prime Minister way back… Tansu Ciller… an American trained economist. The whole economy’s gone screwy over the last twenty years. Crazy! Too much influence from the West. The government freed foreign exchange controls, floated the Turkish lira, reformed tax, and introduce Value Added Tax which I can tell you didn’t go down very well. Then they liberalised banking and started to privatise everything. Inflation’s gone mad… absolutely mad! Unfortunately, seven of the ten top companies are still owned by the government and they’re very inefficient. But… we survive!’

‘Fascinating!’ I returned, trying not to show my disinterest in his commentary.

‘I’ve arranged for you to stay at the Istanbul Sheraton at Taksim. You’ll like it there… it’s a really good hotel. The other bridge players are staying there too. They told me you play bridge. Practically everyone’s a Muslim here and the religion forbids gambling. Playing cards are considered to be so. Only foreigners are allowed to play roulette or cards. It seems crazy that someone has arranged for Istanbul to be the venue of an international bridge tournament. But then everyone in the world is mad except for you and me… and I’m not sure about you.’ He burst out laughing at his own joke.

‘Who’s paying for your service, Turgut?’

‘I told you. They paid the fees straight into my back account. Some company called Dandy Advanced Electronics. Do you work for them?’

It was a clever move by someone wishing to hide their tracks. They had contact Turgut pretending to be Dandy Advanced Electronics and had paid him directly by remitting cash into his back account. It was a means by which the 21st Century Crusaders could make the payment and remain undetected. As far as Turgut was concerned, he had been given an assignment and had been paid in advance. Any other details were of no consequence to him whatsoever!

It took us over half-an-hour to reach the hotel. Turgut was right… it was first-class. He took my suitcase to the reception desk, put it down, and stared at me flashing his white teeth.

‘Well thanks for the ride,’ I told him gratefully. ‘You’ve done your part. No doubt we shall meet at some time again.’

His face registered surprise. ‘You don’t understand,’ he explained. ‘The arrangement was for me to look after you all the time while you are in Turkey. I have to do many things for you.’

‘What else have you got to do?’

‘I was asked not to discuss details. I shall wait for you in the hotel lounge until you’re ready to leave My job is to be your chauffeur and guide at all times. That’s what I was paid for.’

I snorted with frustration and collected my room key at reception before taking the lift to the fourth floor. The arrangement was for him to do many things for me. What did he mean by that? I shrugged my shoulders as I reached the door of my room. Turning the key in the lock, I entered and laid my suitcase on the bed. Before I could undo the zip, however, I had an uncanny feeling that someone else was in the room. I heard a slight rustle behind me and turned slowly to face a man wearing a white jacket whom I presumed was a waiter working in the hotel.

‘I don’t need anything at the moment,’ I stated clearly, feeling somewhat uncomfortable by his presence. His eyes blazed as he took a deep breath and then produce a knife with a curved blade from the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I challenged with fear welling up inside me.

He released a sharp sound, which could be described only as something between a battle-cry and a muffled scream, and charged at me with his arm raised, intending to bury the blade into a vital part of my body. The blood drained to my legs as fear raged through me rampantly. Who was this assassin? Why did he want to kill me? It was then I recalled the note placed under my door at home. ‘Don’t fly to Turkey if you value your life. Don’t fly to Turkey if you value your wife!’ Now was the moment it started to fall into place. Someone had paid this man to kill me. But why? I was listed as an international bridge player not as a political spy! Then the adrenalin pumped into my veins and I jerked into action. At first, I kept retreating backwards across the room as he made his way slashing the space in front of me. On occasion, the blade missed me by only a few centimetres; at other times he was wide of the mark. Fortunately, his lack of accuracy proved that he was not a professional assassin or I would not have lasted very long. After a number of near misses, I managed to seize his arm and attempted to force him to drop the weapon, but he surprised me with a vicious kick to my abdomen, causing me to retreat clutching my stomach in agony.

‘For God’s sake!’ I shouted. ‘Why are you doing this? Who paid you to kill me?’ His eyelids flickered as I spoke but I doubted whether he spoke English. ‘Look… you’ve got to stop this nonsense! Do you understand?’

He hesitated for a few moments trying to interpret my words which gave me time to stand up straight and remove my wallet, flicking it open to show a wad of Turkish lira. He seemed surprised by my actions in the middle of a fight to the death and paused for a moment to consider how he could benefit from my generosity. Then it occurred to him that if he killed me he could have all the money anyway so he decided to continue with his assignment. With a sudden thrust forward, he lunged at me with the knife. I caught hold of his arm forcing it upwards which had the effect of keeping the blade from doing me any damage. He struggled for a short while as I increased the pressure on his arm trying to compel him to drop the weapon. He soon realised that he was going to lose the contest for he was unequal to me in a wrestling match. Only five feet two inches in height, it was his misfortune to give me the benefit of some thirty pounds in weight. The only advantages on his side were the weapon and the element of surprise… the latter of which had now been lost. He still maintained his hold on the knife but after establishing my superiority I turned his arm sharply and thrust him forward intending to push his body into the settee in front of the window. However he broke away from my grip and stepped back a couple of paces to put some space between us. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the maid had left an aerosol can of mosquito repellent on the coffee table. In an instant, I gathered the canister with one scoop, pointed the nozzle at the face of my assailant, and pressed the button firmly. A jet of spray squirted out at tremendous speed directly into the other man’s eyes. He stepped back sharply clutching his face, and stepped on to the settee which tipped over so that he fell backwards with great force. Before I could do anything to prevent it, he had fallen through the window which shattered on impact and sailing through the opening yelling at the top of his voice. There were screams from below and I hurried to the opening, staring past the jagged slivers, expecting to find the man laying dead on a mass of concrete. Instead I could see that he had landed in a swimming pool making his escape under cover of the hotel guests lazing in the sun. I sighed with relief that the man was still alive. I may have been obstinate in many of my views but the last thing I wanted to do was to kill someone. It was a blessing in disguise as well for the police would not be involved and there would be no investigation. He had got away scot free. Had he been caught he would almost certain have come up with the same story as Turgut… that he had been employed by a telephone call and the fees had been paid directly into his bank account! The hotel would believe that a robber, in the guise of a waiter, had broken into the room, jumping out of the window when he was discovered and trapped. Drastic measures for crisis situations. No one had known about my visit to Turkey for any other reason than to play bridge… except Schmuel Musaphia. Why then should anyone be waiting here to kill me? I recalled that it was the second time death had come close to me after meeting the old man. The first time had been the incident with the black car which tried to ram Penny and me. Perhaps it was advisable to avoid the octagenarian in the future if I wanted to enjoy a longer life. Of course, Turgut knew of my arrival. Perhaps he had something to do with the attack but such speculation was merely grasping at straws.