The Song of Mawu. Jeff Edwards
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Song of Mawu - Jeff Edwards страница 18
‘Of course! Sorry!’ said Rod, and thought to himself, ‘Bullshit’.
‘I think the best idea would be to look around the country and find a Namolan expatriot who’s willing to talk,’ offered Bree. ‘The universities probably have several students studying over here.’
Rod nodded at the suggestion, ‘I’ll check into it. Thanks.’
***
Stepping out of the helicopter the agents saw the newly completed building for the first time. ‘Very modern,’ observed Sam, ‘Nothing like the old bank building in London.’
‘Nothing at all,’ agreed Rod as he led them through the front door. ‘By the way, your old security passes won’t work around here. I’ll have to leave you in the hands of Teddy Strang’s people. When you’re finished, report to my office.’
But Bree and Sam barely heard the words as he walked away. Their attention had been immediately drawn to an object sitting regally on a low plinth in the wide, modern foyer.
Its metal body still displayed the scorch marks and scratches of battle, with a few chips in its bullet-proof windows, but despite this the Rolls Royce had been lovingly cleaned and polished.
Now it stood below the large portrait of Janice Patricia Green, the elderly woman whose money had created The Fund and was better known by the more notorious name of Jade Green.
‘It’s her Rolls! The armoured one!’ breathed Sam.
Before they could discuss the matter further they were joined by the head of security Teddy Strang.
‘Welcome home! Come with me and I’ll get you both fixed up.’
Reluctantly they left the regal vehicle and followed The Fund’s Head of Security.
***
The agents were expecting to have their photo taken and a new plastic card issued, but they were totally bemused when they finally reported to Rod Taylor’s office two hours later.
Not only had they been fingerprinted, photographed, DNA samples taken, but to their total shock a nurse had used an alcohol swab to clean a patch of skin on their neck, close to their shoulders. A doctor had then injected a local anaesthetic and sliced the skin before inserting a microchip into the open wound.
‘We’re now going to be treated like lost dogs,’ remarked Sam before breaking into a sad yelping bark.
The doctor gave them a slight smile as he covered their minor wounds with a skin coloured bandage. ‘If you think that’s merely a tracking chip, then you’re very much mistaken,’ he said.
‘What else does it do?’ asked Bree.
‘Not even I know that.’
‘But you must know,’ insisted Bree.
He shrugged, ‘All I know is that all employees of The Fund have them, and we are paid extremely well for the minor initial discomfort.’ The doctor turned away from them and pointed to the nurse’s neck where they could now discern a small raised section of skin. If they hadn’t been looking for it, they wouldn’t have been aware of its presence.
‘Not even my husband has noticed it,’ said the nurse.
***
‘What’s with the microchips?’ asked Sam as soon as they walked into Rod’s office.
Rod shrugged his shoulders, ‘I have one, so does my wife and even my son. If anything were to happen to us, a car accident or something like that, the computers here will pick it up and emergency procedures instigated. It’s for our own good and is especially relevant for employees such as yourselves who operate in the field.’
‘I don’t like the idea,’ said an indignant Bree, ‘It’s totally Orwellian.’
‘It’s for your own good, and a further addition to your watches.’
‘I can take off the watch when I need to,’ said Bree.
‘And what if something happens when you don’t have the watch with you, or if someone takes it off you?’
‘That’s my problem.’
Rod shook his head. ‘No, that’s The Fund’s problem. You’ll be in trouble and we won’t have contact with you. If we don’t know where you are we won’t be able to help you. The board of directors is taking a very serious line on this. There will be no exceptions.’
‘Well it’s in, so I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it without going to see a surgeon.’
‘Learn to live with it. After a day or two you’ll forget it’s there. Now let’s go. We have a meeting to attend.’
***
Justine brought the meeting to order. ‘This meeting has been called to discuss the current situation in Namola.’
The mention of that country caused Bree and Sam, who sat with Rod Taylor at the far end of the board table, to exchange a quick glance.
‘We saw Namola mentioned in the news while we were in Singapore,’ said Bree, ‘But what has it got to do with The Fund?’
Justine fixed her with an icy look. ‘If you’ll allow me to continue, I’ll bring you and Sam up to date.’
‘Sorry!’ apologised Bree, thinking ‘No need to get snooty about it. I was only asking.’
Justine continued, recapping what had already been discussed at their previous meeting regarding their camp in Namola, before handing the meeting over to Ali for the latest update.
‘We’ve been in contact with some of the workers we recruited from the refugee camp. It seems President Lattua has not been idle. He and his brother have moved a large proportion of their army into our encampment and made themselves comfortable. Fields that our people cleared of rocks and were preparing to plant with maize have been turned into parade grounds and vehicle parking lots.
Added to that, Lattua has invited ex-President Francis Bollan of Sonateria to join him there. Bollan is in the process of forcing the refugees from his own country to clear more of the valley for the erection of a home for himself and his troop of special forces. I’m told that his men are nothing more than a bunch of ex-criminal bully boys who swore an oath of loyalty to Bollan on the promise of high wages and having a blind eye turned on their previous transgressions.
Bollan’s men have been going among the males in the refugee camp seeking further recruits and with the desperate condition they find themselves in, many of them are flocking to the cause, if only to be able to feed and protect their families. He’s proving especially popular with orphaned boys and doesn’t care how young they are. If they’re strong enough to pick up a gun he’ll enlist them. I don’t think it will be too long before he has a large enough force to attempt an incursion into his former homeland.’
‘Will he