Chapter 52

 

DHA Golf Course Jetty, Karachi, Pakistan:

6^th March 2012; Dawn.

 

The white Apex rigid inflatable boat cut through the even waters of the inlet almost silently. The pilot was taking it slowly and creating only a tiny wake.

Through the binoculars Todd could see that the passengers were Pete Adams and Aara. “Are you getting this?” he asked Jamie and Max, who were concealed elsewhere and armed with video and still cameras respectively. The water was startlingly blue and calm, the wake white and clean as the boat was tracked by the three watchers in the soft light of dawn. To Todd’s relief, both Aara and Pete had wheel-along suitcases with them. Aara’s was probably around thirty inches tall, Pete’s was smaller at twenty four inches, but that was what might normally be expected when a man and a woman travelled together.

The boat slowed and slewed around as it reached the tiny wooden jetty, which was more of a decorative architectural addition to the links golf course than a practical landing point for sailors. The pilot steadied the boat as Pete climbed out and assisted Aara. The pilot then passed the suitcases up to them, and waved as he headed back to The Possum, which shared the same painted design as the inflatable.

Pete and Aara wheeled their bags along the short wooden jetty, whose uneven boards bounced the luggage up and down with a click-clack sound as they walked along towards the shore. At the end of the jetty a six seater golf cart with a colourful canopy was waiting to collect them. The Pakistani driver and the golf cart were liveried with the logo of “Raffles”. The man stepped down from the cart and politely took the cases from the travellers before placing them in the back of the cart.

“Make sure that they are transferred to the limousine when it arrives from the airport,” Pete said as he clambered aboard. The driver smiled and said something that neither Pete nor Aara understood, and began to drive in the direction of the Raffles Club just a few hundred yards away. The temperature was already in the low 80s Fahrenheit and a refreshing breeze was blowing in from the sea, but the sounds of the wind did not prevent the parabolic microphone picking up Pete Adam’s instructions to the driver. “Right, everyone. Let’s follow, and play it by ear,” Todd ordered.

Max drove their golf cart, keeping the landscaped mounds and bunds between their cart and that of the new arrivals as they headed in the direction of Raffles.

So far, the plan had worked well. They had landed at the private airport and had given their passports to a woman in a red uniform, who asked them to wait in a small lounge with their limited luggage. A Pakistani guard approached them and asked them where they were from. Jamie answered the question and asked the man if he wanted to examine their luggage. The man waved his hand and said that there was no need; this was the VIP terminal for friends of Pakistan. He had also seen the Dubai Government stickers and had decided that, on this occasion, retreat would serve his career better than dedication to duty.

Their passports and visas were returned to them and they drove to their hotel, although they were back in their car just a few hours later and heading towards the Defence Housing Association Golf Course, which housed the landing jetty and which was adjacent to the Raffles Club.

***

Aara and Pete stepped out of the golf cart and walked straight into the reception area, where they were directed towards the breakfast buffet. The golf cart pulled up beside the entrance canopy and the driver lit a cigarette out of sight of the main guest entrance. He was puffing away when a man in a smart chauffeur’s uniform approached him.

“Excuse me.” The driver jumped guiltily, and tried to discard his cigarette. “It’s OK. Finish your smoke. Are these the cases for the limo?” Max asked.

“Yes, sir. I will bring them to the lobby, sir,” he answered quickly.

“No need, Anwa,” Max said as he picked up the cases. “I’ll take them to the concierge, who can hold them until the guests are ready to leave. These rich people think that they are too clever to have to carry luggage, don’t they?” he finished. Anwa laughed and nodded, and returned to his cigarette.

Max wheeled the cases into the lobby and then into an alcove where Todd and Jamie were sitting on a sofa, well away from the breakfast room. As soon as he placed the cases in front of his two colleagues Jamie opened the simple padlocks on the cases with a TSA master key. Todd opened the larger pink suitcase and unzipped the lining to reveal the pull handle sliding mechanism. He pulled out a thick black bag from his own suitcase and duct taped the bag to the plastic body of the case and the steel channels that housed the retracting handle. He zipped up the lining and closed the case. Jamie replaced and relocked the padlock. This had all taken place in less than a minute.

Max already had Pete Adams’ case open and was looking for a suitable place to hide his package. At the bottom of the case, in a black zipped carrier, he found a sound dock for an mp3 player. It had built in stereo speakers and was made by Bose. “Bit of a bonus,” he said, smiling, as he placed the sound-dock in Todd’s case and replaced the contents of the Bose zipped bag with his package, which fit in the space easily. He replaced the bag at the bottom of the case and put the clothes back over it. He then closed and locked the case.

Less than five minutes after collecting the bags from the golf buggy, the cases were suitably stowed in the concierge’s cupboard, with strict instructions that they should be transferred to Mr Adams’ limousine as soon as it arrived.

***

Relieved at having successfully transferred their illicit packages, the team seemed happier, and would have tried the famous Raffles English Breakfast if Aara and Pete had not been close by.

I’m hungry,” Todd announced. “Where d’you want to go for breakfast?”

“Anywhere that serves bacon and pork sausages,” Max said simply. “I would kill for a pork sausage just now.”

The others laughed, having heard Max grumble about the restrictions on the sale of pork in Dubai over the last few weeks. “Veal bacon and chicken sausages are not only tasteless, they’re an affront to every right thinking Englishman,” he announced, before sinking back in his seat as Todd took the wheel and they headed into Karachi.

***

Pete Adams and Aara handed over their passports and e-tickets to the airline representative who was checking them in. They were all sitting at a desk in the business class section of the terminal. She ran through all of the usual questions and then handed them Business Class boarding cards, which also acted as invitations to the CIP Business lounge, which turned out to be only moderately comfortable, but which had the advantage of not being overcrowded like the rest of the airport.

They helped themselves to drinks, but avoided the packaged snacks, and before too long their flight was announced. They were on their way to Bangkok on Thai Airlines, and just an hour and a half after landing they would take off on a Qantas 747 to Melbourne.

As relaxed as they were after being pampered at the Raffles Club, they were nevertheless dreading the long journey ahead. Even in business class, air travel was stressful.

***

Travelling in the Learjet was far less stressful. In fact, Todd was asleep again just a few minutes after take off. Jamie and Max moved over to a small seating area with a coffee table between the seats, and Max opened his laptop.

For the next two hours they edited photos and video which they uploaded from the memory cards in their cameras. When the editing was done and the files saved, the results were emailed via the skynet in-flight WiFi system to the Brigadier, who would pass them on to the relevant authorities. Max bagged the original video and still pictures, and sealed the bag. He wrote on it ‘Chamlong Rattakul’.

Max made additional copies of the pictures, and the sat back and looked at Jamie, who was watching him and smiling. He frowned, and she laughed.

“You know, Max, when this job is over I’m going to miss you. I never met a journalist I didn’t want to shoot and kill, until I met you.” She grinned as she continued. “And now I’ve met a journalist I only want to seriously wound.” They both laughed.

“What will you do after Dubai?” Max asked. Jamie thought for a while and then answered.

“I’ve decided to take a leave of absence, Max. I’m thirty one years old, single, and unless I count my Dad’s old house, I don’t have a home. I want to travel and meet nice guys like you.”

“And Todd?” Max asked. Jamie looked across to see whether Todd was still asleep, but his none too gentle snoring confirmed it.

“No, not like Todd. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy. He would be my first choice for an older brother, but we would be too competitive to be more than that. I think I need a cerebral Englishman.”

 

“Are you hitting on me?” Max asked, grinning. She smiled, and shook her head.

“No, you don’t need to worry. But I would expect you to accommodate me whenever I came to London. Then you could take me to dinner, the theatre and show me the sights. They say it’s the most vibrant city in the world.”

“You can happily stay with me any time you like,” Max agreed. “Separate bedrooms, of course.”

“Of course, Max. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“London is a great city, but if you stay with me you’d better be ready for some action. I just can’t seem to keep away from trouble.”

“And you, Max? What will you do after Dubai?”

“It’s too early to go back to the UK. Bricko is still too fresh in the collective press memory. I’ll grow my hair, get a tan and go to Oz to see how the Polletti thing unfolds. There could be a book in this, or another series for a broadsheet, who knows?”

“Just make sure you’re back in London for the summer,” Jamie said. “I’ll come over for the Olympics, and we can spend some time together and spend some of the Sheikh’s money.”

“What, you think we’re getting paid for this?” Max asked. He was more than a little surprised by her answer.

“Oh yes, Max. We’re being very well paid. When I was in hospital he and the Crown Prince asked me what I thought would be a reasonable remuneration for our services. I was going to ask for twenty five thousand dollars, but they were discussing much higher figures between themselves for two minutes before they offered one million dirhams. Each.”

“Jamie, that’s about two hundred thousand pounds each!” Max stated, his eyes widening as he worked the sums out in his head. Jamie smiled. She stood and squeezed Max’s hand gently as she kissed his forehead.

“Remember, Max. Separate bedrooms.” She winked and returned to her recliner.