“Sure I did, Can’t you smell me?” he said.
“No I can’t.”
“Then I must be clean.”
“Okay, Julianna, how the hell did you get here so fast?” said a familiar voice.
I turned to see Carl at the bar with a few empty glasses in front of him.
“Hi Carl, I could say the same for you.”
“I just flew in from Tamale. We were on the first plane out. I looked for you and noted with interest that you weren’t among the passengers. What did you do, come in with the president?” he said, in jest.
The bar was full of reporters and various diplomatic bods. I was certain that the CIA, MI6 and lots of other intelligence operators were probably present, but didn’t actually care. I drank some of my beer. It was ice cold and very refreshing. I joined Carl at the bar. Harvey muttered about making a phone call and wandered off.
“Your minder left you alone for a moment?” Carl asked.
“He’s not my minder,” I said.
“You look a million dollars, Julianna,” he said, looking me up and down.
“Thanks, you don’t look too disgusting yourself.”
“So, when did you leave Tamale?”
“I think it was about three in the morning, why?”
“I thought we might have travelled together, that’s all.”
“I would have, but something came up.”
“You seem to always have things come up, and I thought I led a mysterious and complicated life.”
“Believe me, Carl, you’re a non-starter compared to my complications,” I said, finishing my beer.
“Another?” he asked, nodding at the empty glass.
“Why not? How many have you had anyway?”
“I’ve been here for a few hours as they won’t let us leave the hotel, so this is about my sixth.”
“Try and keep sober, there’s a good chap,” I said, grinning at him.
“So, coming back to the question that I feel you will avoid answering, how come you went so early?”
A group of newly arrived TV crews arrived, so the noise level increased. After our beers were served, Carl and I moved out into the garden and sat at a small table under the shade of some trees. I placed a coaster over the top of my glass, and Carl frowned at me.
“Monkeys drop things if you aren’t careful. If you’re lucky it’ll be a twig or some fruit, if not then it could be their sh….”
“Okay, I get the picture,” he interrupted me and placing a coaster over his drink.
“You’re an amazingly confusing woman,” he said.
“I know that.”
He laughed, looking around him.
“I mean, you look at home here, in relative luxury, and yet from what I can gather, you seem at home anywhere.”
“So?”
“I saw some amazing news clips,” he said.
“Oh yes?”
“They were taken at the presidential palace, not that long ago. There was a team of what people are calling American Special Forces in dark four-by-fours.”
“So?”
“Well, some witnesses say that this team searched the palace and then went to the airport where they caught up with the fleeing Mombossu and grabbed him. There is also a rumour going round that the man had a substantial amount of diamonds on him at the time.”
“I heard the same rumours. I think its all crap, personally.”
He looked at me with a strange expression, not unlike that the president had earlier.
“What?” I said.
“It’s just that the supposed leader of this team was a white woman, about your height and build.”
“Well, I’m a very average sort of person.”
“No Julianna, that is one thing you most certainly are not. Besides, how come they got you on film at the palace when you went back?”
“Me? Come on Carl, I’m a reporter.”
He pulled out a grainy photograph, obviously printed off a computer printer onto standard paper. It was of Harvey and me arriving back at the palace and about to see G’ymbai in his office. We were standing by the Toyota and talking to the army officer who came to greet us. He was saluting me.
“Gotcha!” he said.
I couldn’t argue with the evidence. I still had my MP5 strapped across the front of my armour. There was nothing I could say.
“Fashion reporter?” he said, with sarcasm dripping from each syllable.
“I didn’t say that was all I did.”
He laughed.
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think anyone else has twigged yet.”
“I’m not that bothered. How many copies are there?”
“As far as I know, not many, because there was an immediate news black-out on this footage. The man who took it had all his data taken by a very severe black man. I just happened to be with him when he processed it in his van. He ran off this when I asked for him. Seconds later the police swooped and I was just clear in time.”
I handed it back to him.
“Don’t you want to destroy it?”
“Why, will it do any good?”
“You might be recognised, though.”
“So?”
He took a long hard look at me. Then with a last look at the picture, he ripped it up and placed it into the ashtray, where he set light to it.
“So you really do work for UNC?”
“I do, why?”
“Not as a reporter?”
“I do what I’m told.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, Carl, it doesn’t, but then would you tell me all about working for the New Zealand Government and your hidden agendas?”
He was quiet.
“So, let’s just agree that there are some things that we just don’t need to talk about,” I said.
“Okay. So, what do we talk about?”
“Tell me about your home,” I said.
“My home? Shit, how do you know that I’ve got one?”
“Well, most people have one, and you mentioned a flat when we first met, so what’s it like?”
“You’ve got a good memory. The flat was in Australia, and I sold it not long after that episode.”
“Ah, so where do you live now?”
“Do you know New Zealand?”
“Not yet.”
He smiled.
“I’m from the North Island, right up near the top in what’s called the Bay of Islands. My dad ran a business in a small town called Russell. It’s a beautiful spot.”
“Why did you leave?”
“I wanted more than beautiful surroundings. We were inundated by tourists for most of the year, mainly due to the climate, and I just wanted to see what else there was. We didn’t have much money, so I joined the army.”
“And saw the inside of barracks,” I joked.
“You’ve never been a soldier, so don’t mock.”
“Haven’t I?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, then I withdraw that, as from what I’ve seen, you were probably in the Canadian SAS for twenty years.”
I smiled at his joke.
“Where was I?” he asked.
“Your home.”
“Oh yes. Well, my younger brother, Peter, runs the business now; it’s a fishing and general hardware store. Good for camping, DIY you name it, he’s got it.”
I sat there watching him. His expression had softened as he thought of his home.
“The family home is an old house on a hill overlooking the ocean. Dad and his brother, my Uncle Mike built it back in the fifties. They both had similar houses, both standing close to each other. Back then, they were the only houses on that road, but now the town has engulfed them. Uncle Mike died of cancer ten years ago and my aunt moved to Auckland to be close to her daughter. The eldest boy, my cousin Stephen runs a boat charter business, so he lives in the old house now.”
“What about your parents, are they still alive?”
“They are, doing well too. They moved into a small bungalow in town so Pete and his family are in the big house.”
“So, where do you go when you go home?”
He smiled.
“I bought a small place about ten kilometres away. I like my privacy, so it’s on its own overlooking the most beautiful coastline on God’s Earth.”