I fought my way over to him.
"I'm Rob Carlisle," I said.
"Passport, sir?"
I immediately guessed that he was ex military, so handed over my passport. He glanced at it and nodded briefly.
"Follow me, sir."
He made no attempt to assist with my bag, not that I needed help, but it reinforced that he was not strictly a chauffeur. The obvious bulge at belt height under his jacket was another indicator.
He led me to a blacked out Limo, opening the rear door for me. I slid in with my small bag.
He said nothing as we drove into the city. I wasn't bothered, as this was my first time here, so simply enjoyed the sights.
I was lost in no time, as the concrete and glass buildings seemed all the same to me. The car suddenly turned off the street and down into an underground car park. There was a secure bay at one end, so after we drove in, solid looking doors closed and shut out the rest of the world.
It wasn't a just bay, but an elevator.
It fell several floors before stopping gently. My car door was opened so I got out as the doors of the elevator opened.
The chauffeur simply started walking, so I followed.
I'm not certain what I expected, but the hi-tech environment into which I now stepped wasn't one of them. He led me to an office that had smoked glass everywhere, but shuttered from the inside. A door opened and he stood by it, making no attempt to enter. I shrugged and went in.
"Ah, Captain Carlisle, I'm so glad you could make it."
I turned towards the speaker, only to be surprised yet again.
Chapter Two
She was tall and as elegant as Sarah had been, only older by a couple of decades and American. She was the epitome of the successful businesswoman, with short brown hair and an ultra conservative dress sense. She rose from behind the desk as I entered.
I stood there, taking in the austere, ultra-modern, but functional surroundings. Her office consisted solely of a desk, one chair and a steel and leather sofa. The desk was massive in what appeared to be black onyx, and incorporated a PC system within the surface, that projected a 'virtual' screen several inches above the desk.
"Who are you?" I asked.
“Blunt and to the point, I lie that in a man,” she said, smiling. "I’m someone who can use your skills."
"Does that someone have a name?"
"It would mean nothing to you at this time, for the time being, you might just be safer not knowing."
"Allow me to be the judge of that. If it's illegal, you're wasting you're time." I walked over to the desk and put down the untouched ten thousand.
She simply smiled.
"My name is Maryanne, and the money is yours whether you accept my proposal or not. It might at least pay a few months' repayments on your mortgage."
I looked at the money. It did mean a few months' breather.
"If it's dirty money, I'd rather sell my flat."
She laughed at me.
"My God, you really mean it, don't you?"
I said nothing.
"I didn't realise that people such as you still existed. I almost feel privileged."
I laughed. "Almost?"
"You’re a very rare breed, Captain, in fact, I thought almost extinct."
I waited.
"I read of your exploits with great interest. I thought the reports were exaggerated, but it seems they may not have been. I understand that the representatives of your government were most displeased with you."
"I threatened to shoot them, if that's what you mean."
"And your men followed you, knowing you were disobeying a government directive?"
"They were loyal to me. They were with me, so they could see the suffering that was going to happen."
"But the men from the foreign office were there, they could see?"
"They'd been paid not to see anything. They’re fools."
"China picked up the contracts that Britain lost, are you proud of that?"
"I don't give a shit. I did what I thought was right for the local people, not best for fat cats in the City of London or Westminster. The chances are that the same investors own the British companies that lost out in any case.”
She laughed and came over to me, resting an elegantly manicured hand on my arm. I guessed she was in her late fifties.
"Please sit, I need to tell you a story."
I sat on the sofa, so she sat beside me, crossing her legs. For her age, she was still an attractive woman. She also wore a wedding ring.
"After you left Mgombi, do you know what happened?"
"The general kicked out all westerners and sealed down the country."
"He was very angry."
"Good. He's a shit."
She laughed again. "You managed to secure the escape of his arch enemy, so he'll never rest until he squares things with you, particularly as you publicly humiliated him in front of his men."
"I can't say I'm losing sleep over it. As I said, he's a jumped up little shit."
"However, losing G'ymbai was nothing compared to the diamonds. Now, for that little exploit he'll spare no expense tracking you down and killing you."
"He's got to catch me first."
"Oh, Robert, don't be an idiot. I found you by having Sarah ring your front doorbell, he'll use much the same methods."
"So?"
"Do you know what happened to the diamonds?"
"What diamonds?"
She laughed again, shaking her head.
"The several million pounds worth of uncut diamonds you shipped out with the refugees. Once cut and on the open market, they could reach sums five times that."
It was my turn to laugh.
"They're safe."
"No, Robert, they're not. They were, for you gave them to your good friend Simon Hamilton with strict instructions how they were to be kept and used for the rebuilding of Mgombi, did you not?"
I felt icy feeling of uncertainty now, so said nothing. How did she know of Simon?
She stood up and walked over to her desk, producing an A4 photograph. On her return to the sofa she passed it to me.
I looked at a photograph of a very dead and mutilated Simon.
"Shit!"
"The General's men found him, so now they have the diamonds."
I looked up. "The others?" I asked, meaning the many that had crossed that border with me.
"Oh, safe, for the moment."
"How did you get this?"
"I can't tell you that, but I can tell you that at eleven-forty this morning three of the general's staff arrived at Heathrow Airport, took a cab into London and are, even as we speak, probably in your apartment looking for you."
I stared at her, experiencing a feeling akin to the bottom dropping out of my world.
"So, why did you want me so bad?" I asked.
"I want you to get the diamonds back."
"What?"
"You heard."
"So you can reap the rewards?"
"No, so they can prepare to reclaim their country and rebuild it."
"What's in it for you?"
"You really are a cynic, aren't you? It's such a shame to see it in one so young."
"Everyone has an angle."
"Mine is loyalty. You relate to that, don't you?"
"Loyalty, to what, profit?"
"No, to friends."
The door opened again and a man entered. It was ex-president Holasu G'ymbai. He looked well, considering. He wore an immaculate suit, but still had that old Timex wristwatch I'd given him in the bush as I was leaving. The last time I'd seen him, his shirt was in rags and he had bare feet.
I automatically stood.
"Ah, Captain, I am so pleased to see you again," he said, shaking me by the hand and clasping me to his chest as an old friend.
"Sir, I'm glad to see you safe. How is your family?"
"They are all well, enjoying the winter of up-state New York. N'yami has never seen snow before."
I'd been holding N'yami when that photograph was taken.