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In a large warehouse outside Prague, two dozen muscular men were busy loading forty-four twenty-foot shipping containers. It was cold, damp, and in the early morning darkness outside the rain was pouring down relentlessly. The men had been working without a break since eight o’clock the previous evening and were tired, hungry, and becoming increasingly short-tempered.
Two Asian men sat at a small table in a corner. One was short and stocky and was almost finished smoking his second pack of cigarettes that night. On the floor next to him was a dark green duffel bag. The other man, dressed in black, was of medium height and wiry thin. He sat completely still as he watched the men loading the containers. There was no reason for him to be there, but he was the type of person who never left anything to chance and had been present since the men had started working. In the entire eight hours he had not said a single word, and the only reason the workers knew he was alive was that every hour on the hour he stood up and did some rather odd stretching exercises. They were now more or less finished, and thirty-two of the containers would soon be on their way to a nearby airport, where four chartered cargo planes were waiting. Big semitrailers would take the twelve remaining containers to their ultimate destination.
As the workers loaded the unmarked wooden crates of varying sizes into the containers, they had no idea what was in them, nor did they care. They had been paid five hundred Euros in cash up front and would receive another thousand each when they completed the loading. If the hardworking men had known the contents of the crates, they may have demanded a special bonus payment or perhaps declined the unusually lucrative job altogether.
At four twenty-five in the morning the final container was hoisted onto one of the trucks, and the drivers started their engines. The tired workers sauntered over to the stocky Asian and lined up. Not a word was said as the man started handing out envelopes from the duffel bag now sitting on the small table. Most of the men tore open their envelopes and counted out ten one-hundred-Euro bills before walking out of the cold building.
The man dressed in black abruptly stood up, nodded to the stout man handing out envelopes, and walked out of the building, where a Mercedes limousine was waiting for him. A uniformed chauffeur was immediately at his side with an umbrella and opened the rear door. The black car sped away and quickly disappeared into the dark rainy night.
Shortly after sunrise four Boeing 747-200F cargo planes were on their way to different faraway destinations. None of the planes would follow the detailed flight plans that had been diligently filed in compliance with international airline regulations. The pilots had been paid half their annual salary for a day’s work, which included bending the rules a little.
*****
The two men seated in a luxurious Victorian townhouse in the exclusive Belgravia neighborhood not far from Buckingham Palace couldn’t have been more dissimilar. The age difference between them was at least thirty years and the weight difference close to 150 pounds. They had grown up on continents thousands of miles apart, and about the only thing they had in common was that neither of them was British.
The white-haired man had bought the impressive property last year for 17 million dollars. He enjoyed living among London’s elite but had recently discovered that his bank account was being depleted at an alarming and unsustainable rate. Playing with the rich and famous was not cheap.
His mysterious visitor had first contacted him three days ago and was now sitting in a burgundy leather chair sipping a cup of tea. His business proposal was outrageous, but the exceedingly generous terms of the transaction would solve many of the problems facing the older man.
He would have to take some extreme risks and call in a lot of favors to get the merchandise successfully delivered but believed he could do it. He didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to maintain his lifestyle and stay in the game.
Standing up and extending his hand, the younger man unemotionally said, “It’s a deal. You have exactly two months to deliver the goods.”
They shook hands and then the visitor was gone.
*****
Claude Beauvais was lost in thought and preoccupied with analyzing contradictory information and recent bizarre happenings at the communications company where he served as chief executive officer. Although he was normally an excellent driver, his focus on work rather than the road before him had led to two near-accidents during the drive to work this morning. He was relieved to find himself only a few minutes away from the safety of his office.
He didn’t understand why his normally friendly and supportive board of directors had suddenly turned hostile toward him. The company was doing very well, and its future prospects had never looked more promising. If he hadn’t also been the largest shareholder, he wouldn’t have survived the week. The perplexing incidents that had started occurring six weeks ago seemed completely unrelated to the board’s surprising behavior. He didn’t think the two were connected, but he couldn’t be sure. And the more he thought about it, the more confused and irritated he became.
Fortunately, his wife was more supportive than ever, and he knew he was incredibly lucky to have such an understanding and caring spouse. He reminded himself that he needed to do a better job of showing her his appreciation and should book a long-needed vacation for the two of them as soon as the situation with his company--whatever it was--had been resolved.
Two Asian men sat at a small table in a corner. One was short and stocky and was almost finished smoking his second pack of cigarettes that night. On the floor next to him was a dark green duffel bag. The other man, dressed in black, was of medium height and wiry thin. He sat completely still as he watched the men loading the containers. There was no reason for him to be there, but he was the type of person who never left anything to chance and had been present since the men had started working. In the entire eight hours he had not said a single word, and the only reason the workers knew he was alive was that every hour on the hour he stood up and did some rather odd stretching exercises. They were now more or less finished, and thirty-two of the containers would soon be on their way to a nearby airport, where four chartered cargo planes were waiting. Big semitrailers would take the twelve remaining containers to their ultimate destination.
As the workers loaded the unmarked wooden crates of varying sizes into the containers, they had no idea what was in them, nor did they care. They had been paid five hundred Euros in cash up front and would receive another thousand each when they completed the loading. If the hardworking men had known the contents of the crates, they may have demanded a special bonus payment or perhaps declined the unusually lucrative job altogether.
At four twenty-five in the morning the final container was hoisted onto one of the trucks, and the drivers started their engines. The tired workers sauntered over to the stocky Asian and lined up. Not a word was said as the man started handing out envelopes from the duffel bag now sitting on the small table. Most of the men tore open their envelopes and counted out ten one-hundred-Euro bills before walking out of the cold building.
The man dressed in black abruptly stood up, nodded to the stout man handing out envelopes, and walked out of the building, where a Mercedes limousine was waiting for him. A uniformed chauffeur was immediately at his side with an umbrella and opened the rear door. The black car sped away and quickly disappeared into the dark rainy night.
Shortly after sunrise four Boeing 747-200F cargo planes were on their way to different faraway destinations. None of the planes would follow the detailed flight plans that had been diligently filed in compliance with international airline regulations. The pilots had been paid half their annual salary for a day’s work, which included bending the rules a little.
*****
The two men seated in a luxurious Victorian townhouse in the exclusive Belgravia neighborhood not far from Buckingham Palace couldn’t have been more dissimilar. The age difference between them was at least thirty years and the weight difference close to 150 pounds. They had grown up on continents thousands of miles apart, and about the only thing they had in common was that neither of them was British.
The white-haired man had bought the impressive property last year for 17 million dollars. He enjoyed living among London’s elite but had recently discovered that his bank account was being depleted at an alarming and unsustainable rate. Playing with the rich and famous was not cheap.
His mysterious visitor had first contacted him three days ago and was now sitting in a burgundy leather chair sipping a cup of tea. His business proposal was outrageous, but the exceedingly generous terms of the transaction would solve many of the problems facing the older man.
He would have to take some extreme risks and call in a lot of favors to get the merchandise successfully delivered but believed he could do it. He didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to maintain his lifestyle and stay in the game.
Standing up and extending his hand, the younger man unemotionally said, “It’s a deal. You have exactly two months to deliver the goods.”
They shook hands and then the visitor was gone.
*****
Claude Beauvais was lost in thought and preoccupied with analyzing contradictory information and recent bizarre happenings at the communications company where he served as chief executive officer. Although he was normally an excellent driver, his focus on work rather than the road before him had led to two near-accidents during the drive to work this morning. He was relieved to find himself only a few minutes away from the safety of his office.
He didn’t understand why his normally friendly and supportive board of directors had suddenly turned hostile toward him. The company was doing very well, and its future prospects had never looked more promising. If he hadn’t also been the largest shareholder, he wouldn’t have survived the week. The perplexing incidents that had started occurring six weeks ago seemed completely unrelated to the board’s surprising behavior. He didn’t think the two were connected, but he couldn’t be sure. And the more he thought about it, the more confused and irritated he became.
Fortunately, his wife was more supportive than ever, and he knew he was incredibly lucky to have such an understanding and caring spouse. He reminded himself that he needed to do a better job of showing her his appreciation and should book a long-needed vacation for the two of them as soon as the situation with his company--whatever it was--had been resolved.
