Authors: Steve Richer
Rick left the guesthouse and was blinded
by the shining sun. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and still felt
overdressed. Nevertheless, the temperature was nice compared to the foul,
frigid water of Amsterdam.
He stretched and before long Olivia came
out as well. She had planned ahead and had gotten herself some shorts and a
tank top. He did his best not to gawk but it was difficult.
“Good morning,” he said. “You think they
have a Starbucks nearby?”
“I’d settle for a cup of tea, doesn’t
even have to be properly brewed either.”
Rick smiled and looked into the distance.
Greenwood was in the center of town, helping the women feeding children.
Right then, Olivia wrapped her arms
around Rick and pinned him against the house. She crushed her lips against his
and kissed him passionately.
“What are you doing?” he asked between
kisses. “Not that I’m complaining, but you know…”
“We’re supposed to be madly in love,
remember? Greenwood is looking at us. Kiss me back, hold me tight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He held her snugly against him and ran
his hands down her back. Her body felt simply wonderful and in spite of the situation
he was getting aroused.
“I know we’ve been biblically introduced
already, back in the Netherlands, but you think when this is over we can go out
on a real date?”
Olivia grinned. “Sure, you’ll be flush
with reward money by then.”
He smiled as well and they kissed some
more.
When they broke the embrace, she took his
hand and they walked into the village until they reached Greenwood.
“You two lovebirds sleep well?”
“The time we
did
sleep, yes,”
Olivia said while winking at Rick.
Rick hadn’t been in love with anyone in a
long time but he was certain they were selling it adequately. They were
supposed to be two young anarchists in love and he supposed that’s how they
should act.
Greenwood spoke in Bemba to one of the
women and climbed to his feet. He motioned with his head for the guests to
follow him. They began strolling through the village.
“Do you guys agree with what I’m doing?”
“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t,” Rick
replied.
“Oh I’m sure you agree with my methods,
but do you agree with my cause?”
Olivia said, “Globalization is a mean
thing. It’s hard to accept it.”
“Globalization is the politically correct
equivalent of electing Hitler to power. They mean well, I’m sure of that. In a
perfect world it would bring countries closer together, uniting everyone into a
brotherhood of mankind. Peace would be at our gates, poor countries would have
a chance to prosper. It’s a noble goal, really.”
He nodded emphatically as if he was a
university professor.
“But you have a problem with that?”
Olivia asked.
“I have a problem with the means our
so-called leaders are using. They’re opting for economic alliances instead of
political or cultural. What they’re doing is writing a blank check to
multinational corporations to do as they please. Do you know what’s going to
happen?”
Rick bent to grab a few strands of grass
to play with.
“All low-income manufacturing jobs will
move out of rich countries to the Third World. The rich countries will only
keep the high-level brain workers.”
Greenwood nodded. “First consequence:
discrimination between the brainy workforce and the unemployed. Second
consequence: the rich will get filthy rich while the poor will starve to death.
It’s already started, as you’re already well aware.”
“Don’t you think that’s just a shift of
power that was long overdue? The Third World has been waiting on the sidelines
for a long time.”
“If we wanted to help them we’d send them
money, pay off their national debts, build roads for them. What’s happening is
that companies are moving there to pay the workers fifty cents a day, to avoid
paying taxes in America, in the UK, everywhere in the West. But consumers will
still pay their products the same price. And these Third World workers are not
getting any richer. They’re being exploited more than ever, in fact.”
“It’s already like that,” Rick said
before throwing away the grass.
“And it’s getting worse. One Fortune 500
corporation makes more money than half the world. The employees don’t benefit,
the population doesn’t benefit. The goddamn stockholders barely benefit!”
Greenwood took a breath to calm down. Then he continued. “Let me tell you what’s
gonna happen. In ten, 15 years, the world is going to be American.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
Olivia shot Rick a disapproving look. He
shrugged. He was only beginning to realize that being a proud American wasn’t
necessarily a virtue outside of his native country.
“Those companies?” Greenwood said. “They’re
pushing Western products to anyone who can fork over a credit card at 27%
interest. Everybody dresses the same, speaks the same, listens to the same
music. Tribes like these will be gone soon. Meanwhile, it’s all these same
companies getting richer. Governments are passing laws that please
multinational corporations, that’s no secret.”
He stopped walking and faced them, as if
what he had to say next was of vital importance.
“Mergers, acquisitions, the number of
these companies is shrinking every year. In 50 years, there’ll be five
companies ruling the world. Cross that, there will be
five people
ruling
the world. Say goodbye to your governments, to the rule of law. Governments will
be virtually powerless and obsolete by the end of the century.”
“You really think that’s how it’ll go
down?”
“I’m sure of it. People don’t want to
listen now, they don’t see the bigger picture. They want to go on living their
own little lives, to consume their cheap little products. In 50 years it will
be too late. There will be uprisings, revolutions, civil wars, but with entire
armies against them – their own country’s armies – it won’t matter. It’ll be
too late. People have forgotten how to protest. Oh how I would’ve liked to have
been there back in ‘68.”
Greenwood took a fork in the path and
they headed toward a little grassy knoll. They all sat in the shade under a
tree.
“I’m sorry about that little rant,” he
said with a short chuckle. “I know it’s not really your cause. It gets me wound
up when mom-and-pop shops close down because a superstore opened next door,
operating at a loss just to annihilate their competition.”
“It reaches our goal too,” Olivia said. “Nobody’s
going to take care of Mother Nature when they’re fighting for their own
survival.”
She took Rick’s hand and made sure
Greenwood noticed it.
“Exactly, our goals are intertwined. So
that’s why I’ve decided to help you.”
Rick beamed. “That’s great, you have no
idea how much this means to us.”
“All right, let’s talk business. What is
your specific objective with your retaliation force?”
“Save the planet!” Rick said as he shook
a victorious fist in the air.
Olivia rolled her eyes at his overacting.
“We would target known polluters, those that get fined but continue nonetheless.
We’re also very concerned with the fate of the Rain Forest. I think a few
well-placed bombs in Brazil could educate.”
“What kind of budget are we talking
about?”
“Somewhat limited at the moment but…”
Olivia interrupted her fictitious
boyfriend. “We have a few contacts down in South America who are prepared to
provide us with enough narcotics to get us equipped. It’s our safest source of
revenue.”
Greenwood nodded in agreement. “How many
members have you recruited?”
Rick was about to speak but he was
starting to learn that he was out of his element. He let the MI6 operative
answer.
“We have a few disgruntled members out of
Greenpeace who have pledged their loyalty to us and our methods. We’re also
acquainted with a couple of mercenaries who will do anything for the right
price.”
“Okay, great!” Greenwood exclaimed. “Looks
like you guys are ready to save the world, far out. Say, I wanted to ask. Has
this affected your relationship in any way?”
Rick put an arm around his partner’s
shoulders. “If anything, it’s brought us closer.”
“Yes, it has.”
She squeezed Rick’s hand and offered him
a smile which he promptly returned. He honestly couldn’t tell if she was acting
or not.
Greenwood surveyed them pleasantly. “It’s
not easy being in our line of work. I had a girlfriend, a serious relationship.
We broke up last year. She thought I was too distant. I never told her what I
did and I think it drove her away. Obviously, you guys don’t have that problem,
good for you.”
“We’re lucky to be so in love.”
“Good for you,” Greenwood repeated. “Let
me get a few ideas together, okay? Then I’ll teach you how to strike terror
into the heart of your enemies.”
Rick and Olivia were back in their room
as they packed their bags. He wanted to talk to her, anything to process
Greenwood’s heady conversation – more like a speech, really. It was a bad idea
though. The possibility of there being microphones hidden everywhere was real.
What bothered Rick the most was that he
agreed with what the man had said. It was hard to argue with most of it; the
world stage was in chaos with certain politicians and influential businessmen
jockeying for position. When it came down to it, Greenwood’s view was common
sense.
But did that justify blowing up banks and
killing people? Of course not.
That was where Rick drew the line, that
was how he knew he wasn’t cut from the same mold. Greenwood was an extremist,
he would go to any length to drive his point across. It was a small miracle
that the man had believed that they were potential terrorists as well.
So it was a relief that this was over.
The plan could now proceed to its final phase. As soon as Greenwood gave them
tangible advice, he would let them go and from there Rick would be in a
position to call Hertz and have the CIA pick him up. Or maybe Olivia would get
her people on it.
In any case, it was over.
Rick felt the tension drain away from his
body and he looked at Olivia. She was bent forward over the bed while folding
shirts. Not only was she breathtaking but he was reminded of their kiss earlier.
It had been to keep up appearances but he couldn’t help feeling that there was
more to it.
“I really like your outfit, you know.”
She turned and frowned. “Don’t be cheeky
now…”
“What, I can’t compliment my girlfriend?”
He knew she would play along because of
the likely bugs. Maybe if he played his cards right he could talk her into
slipping under the covers with him again.
This well-laid scheme was derailed when
there was a knock at the door. Before either one of them could answer, Sagan
opened the door and poked his head in.
“The boss would like to see you.”
Great
,
Rick thought with relief. They could finally get this over with and leave.
They followed Sagan through the village
and reached Greenwood’s house. He was in a little den and there was a young
African man standing next to him. He was about 20 years old and seemed tense.
“Guys, thanks for coming. This is my
friend Chamba.”
“Hi.”
Rick and Olivia introduced themselves and
shook his hand.
“We’re building an irrigation system for
the outer fields,” Greenwood said. “I’d like to get your opinion on it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Rick shrugged. “I can go
see if I can help, gardening is a passion.”
“Actually, I was thinking Olivia could
take a look. Chamba will take you. I’d like to say a few words to Rick.”
Olivia nodded. “Absolutely, I’d love to.”
“Wonderful.”
Chamba headed for the exit with Olivia in
tow.
“Come take a seat, Rick,” Greenwood
offered.
Not seeing any other alternative and
hoping to end this quickly, Rick sat down on what he guessed was a futon.
Greenwood sat on the edge of a plastic chair.
“Rick, you and I need to have a
heart-to-heart conversation.”
“Okay. Anything in particular you want to
discuss?”
“I’ve been wondering…”
“What?”
Greenwood hesitated and made a tent with
his fingers. “Rick, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how well do you really know
Olivia?”
~ ~ ~ ~
Olivia and Chamba walked into the thick
grass. They had left the village and headed into a forest that took up most of
the north side. It became dense and Olivia was breaking a sweat from this hike.
She should have worn pants instead of
shorts, she decided. The branches and twigs were scratching her legs.
“Is it still far?” she asked.
Chamba didn’t reply. He simply continued
to walk next to her through the woods.
~ ~ ~ ~
Rick was beginning to understand that
something very wrong was happening. He worked on controlling his breathing and
wiped his hands on his jeans. He desperately hoped that Greenwood wouldn’t
notice.
Yeah, fat chance
.
“Rick, are you sure Olivia is really your
soul mate?”
The young American felt his hands began
to tremble and he clasped them before it became obvious.
“What’s going on, Willis?”
~ ~ ~ ~
In the forest, Chamba was now ahead of Olivia.
She knew something was off. She had seen
the agricultural layout of the village and it definitely didn’t extend this way.
So why was she being led this far?
Should she turn back as her instincts
were telling her to? If she did, she risked compromising her assignment. On the
other hand, staying was a scary prospect because she didn’t know what to
expect. After all, she was in the intelligence business and it was all about
foreknowledge.
She took too long to think about this.
Chamba stopped walking suddenly.
“Is anything wrong?” she inquired.
The boy turned around swiftly and aimed a
Beretta straight at her head. It was outfitted with a long sound suppressor.
“What are you doing, Chamba?”
He was shaking a little and he was on the
brink of tears. He was visibly an amateur, he’d never murdered anyone before.
What could she do?
His finger tightened against the trigger.
She was going to be his first kill.
~ ~ ~ ~
Rick blinked as the reality of the
situation set in. “God, no.”
“We both know she wasn’t your girlfriend,
don’t we, Rick?” Greenwood said in a patronizing tone.
“What have you done to her?”
“Does it really matter? What’s her story?
How did she come to leech onto you? That’s what happened, isn’t it? You’re the
true believer and she somehow snaked her way into your life?”
Rick gulped and balled his hands into
fists until the knuckles turn white.
“Tell me.”
He couldn’t stop the charade, he had to
keep going.
“When I was in Europe tracking you,
Olivia approached me. She said she’d provide some funding for my operations if
I led her to you. She told me her business with you was personal. She paid all
my expenses as a deposit. I couldn’t afford to turn her down.”
Greenwood nodded sagely. “I believe you.
From what I gather she was quite slimy, manipulative. Do you know who she
really was?”
“No,” Rick said.
“Neither do I, not precisely. But I do
know she worked for the British government, in what capacity I have no idea.
But you can rule out child care specialist.”
Rick stood up and began pacing. Appearing
rattled wasn’t so bad but he couldn’t let the terrorist know that he was aware
of a lot more about what was going on.
“Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry
I brought her here, that I put you in danger.”
“It’s all right, Rick. It’s not the first
time those zany Brits have sent me visitors. But you’ll have to learn to live
with that if you’re to enter my line of work. There aren’t many ways to deal
with them, you know.”
“You mean…”
Rick’s mouth went dry and he rubbed the back
of his neck.
“Killing doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Actually, it does. I’m prepared to go
all the way for my cause, don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t mean I have to
enjoy it. My goal is to re-educate the masses, not wipe them out.”
Greenwood smiled. “Good answer. I hate
killing, I think it speaks of the level at which the human race has sunken to.
But sometimes it’s a necessary measure. I have to show you something.”
The older man stood, went to a shelf, and
picked up a scrapbook from behind some snow globes.
“I’ve written down the names of everyone
who has died by the hands of my organization,” he said quietly. “I don’t think
anyone in that book deserved to die. Some had made wrong choices, some had
their priorities mixed up, but not a single one deserved what happened to them.”
Greenwood produced a pen and Rick saw
that he scribbled down Olivia’s name halfway through the book.
“Even those I personally targeted were
just victims of their choices, Rick. Same goes for Olivia. But they live on in
this book, they’re remembered in here. I read the list every Sunday.”
“You do?” Rick said just so he would have
something to say.
“Yes, every Sunday, I never skip it. I
also write a letter to everyone’s family six months after their death to offer
my condolences and explain my point of view. I’m not a monster. You have to
stay humane through all this. That’s how they would’ve done it back in 1968.”
Greenwood closed the book and put it back
in its place. It was solemn, like a treasured ritual.
Rick’s attention drifted away as he
caught movement outside the window. In the distance, Chamba was walking back
through the village. He was alone.
This meant Olivia was truly dead.