The Liberian Agenda Page 4

  Joseph returned to his seat. “As you wish, my lady. I wouldn’t want to make you nervous. Tell me -- why does my giving you a simple shoulder massage make you so nervous?”

  “Never mind that.” Sonia suppressed a wince. Her tone was sharper than she’d intended it to be. “Now, where were we?”

  “Paragraph 107 on page 36.” Joseph said.

  “Good. We're almost done.”

  “You sound happy about that. Has it been such an ordeal working with me?”

  “No. Actually, it’s been kind of nice. Your father was right. We work well together. I just want to get this done for him. He said he wanted the deal closed by the beginning of next month. I’m just trying to keep us on track. Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because the more time we spend together, the more tense and nervous you seem to get,” he said.

  “Sorry about that. I always get a little tense this far into a deal. I think it has something to do with seeing the finish line and wanting to get across it,” she said.

  “You need to find time to relax,” he said.

  “Look who's talking. From what I recall, you worked around the clock for your father's company while being a full-time student.”

  “But I made time to be with you, didn't I?”

  “True,” she said. “You did manage to find time to do that.”

  Memories of the time they’d spent together came flooding back. They were never very big on conversation. She looked up to find Joseph grinning at her. She released her bottom lip from the clutches of her teeth and shook her head. He was impossible.

  “Okay,” she said, deliberately making her tone brisk. “Let's finish this up so we can get some sleep before tomorrow morning’s conference calls.”

  “Together or apart?”

  She sent him a stern look. “Joseph, this is not the time or place for that. Besides, we went that route and failed a long time ago. Cultural differences. Remember?”

  “Yes, I do remember. But who is to say we haven't grown and changed since then?” he asked.

  “Look, there are ethical rules and firm policies against attorneys having romantic relationships with clients and I like my job very much. So let's focus on the deal. Alright?”

  “Yes. For now.”

  Sonia frowned at him. It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but it would have to do. They had a lot of work to do. She’d worry about the rest later.

  Chapter III

  Dwe and Saye met with the vice president of the shipping company at their offices in Newark, New Jersey. They’d agreed to meet without counsel to see if they could work out the last few deal issues. Saye said little during the meeting. It was his job to intimidate the executive. He stared menacingly at the man while his father exuded charm and grace.

  The executive kept throwing nervous glances in Saye’s direction. Saye wanted to laugh. Americans. If a few mean glares was all it took to intimidate them, he could rack up here.

  “So you see,” Dwe said, “it is very important to us that we obtain full control of the company after closing. You and your father will be provided with generous retirement packages in addition to the buyout price for your shares.”

  With a visible effort, the executive tore his eyes away from Saye and turned to face Dwe. “We thank you for your very generous offer Mr. Saytumah, however, you must understand that my father built this company from scratch more than forty years ago. He spent most of my childhood -- hell, most of my life -- working to turn it into the successful company we are now. You can’t just expect him to immediately cease all involvement with the company after the closing. Couldn’t you find some way to ease him out gradually? You could, for example, let him serve on the board of directors or keep him on as a consultant. Why not take advantage of his very considerable knowledge and expertise?”

  “I am afraid that will not work. It is inconsistent with both my company’s business practices and those of the Liberian government. As I have explained to you, Liberia has worked very hard to obtain some measure of self-determination and independence. Having the old guard still in place after the closing would not serve to fulfill those goals. It would be a shame for this deal to fall apart over so small an issue. Why don’t you take a little time to fully evaluate this new proposal with the revised compensation figures and get back to us?” Dwe asked.

  “We will certainly do that,” the shipping company executive said. “I am not so sure, however, that this is not a deal breaker. My father can be rather stubborn. It’s the trait that’s made him so successful. He never gives up.”

  “Then your father and I have something in common. I am sure we will be able to work this out. Not being able to close this deal would result in dire consequences to both parties. Of course, we want to avoid that at all costs,” Dwe said.

  He stood up. The executive stood as well. They shook hands.

  Dwe and Saye left the building and stepped into the Lincoln town car waiting for them at the curb. Dwe turned to Saye. “The president of the company needs a little persuasion that it is in his best interests to close the deal on the terms we propose.”

  Saye nodded. “I can think of a couple of ways to accomplish that, Father. Do you have something specific in mind?”

  “Yes, I do.” Dwe opened his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. He opened it and extracted some photographs. He leafed through them until he came to one depicting a cute little blue-eyed blonde girl of no more than six years of age. He tapped the photo. “This is a picture of the president’s granddaughter, Karen. She is adorable is she not? She also happens to be the daughter of the man we just met. I want you to devise a plan to convince the father and grandfather of that beautiful little girl that it is in her and their best interests to have this deal go through,” he said.

  Saye’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, father. I believe I can do that.”

  Dwe looked at him sternly. “But son, make sure that you do not harm a hair on that little girl’s head. Americans are very protective when it comes to little girls with blue eyes and blonde hair. We do not need to bring the full wrath of the U.S. Government down on us for overkill. Start out slow and escalate only if you need to.”

  Saye felt his hands curl into fists. He was so tired of being treated like an incompetent fool. His father never treated Joseph this way. “Of course, father. Must you berate me like a child? I know what to do.”

  Dwe nodded and patted Saye’s hand. “I know, son. This is one of your specialties. That’s why I saved this role just for you.”

  Saye smiled, pleased to finally get some acknowledgment of his abilities and the opportunity to play a role in the transaction. He would do a good job. By the time he was done, the executive would give them anything they wanted.

  ***

  A few days later, the president of the shipping company sat at his kitchen table reading the New York Times and sipping a cup of coffee. As she did every Saturday morning, his wife walked through the front door with a basket full of unopened mail. She sat down and sifted through the envelopes, dividing up the bills from the junk mail. She picked up a manila envelope and frowned at it. “Honey.”

  He sighed. Can’t a man read a newspaper in piece?

  “Hmmm?” he asked.

  “This is for you.” She held out the envelope.

  “Okay, just leave it there, dear. I’ll open it later.”

  His wife shrugged and put the envelope down on the table in front of him. She finished sorting through the mail, discarded the junk mail and took the invoices into the den.

  After she left, the executive put down the newspaper and picked up the manila envelope. He studied it and frowned. There was no label on the envelope and no return address. His name and address were neatly handwritten across the front. He opened the envelope and looked inside. There was no letter – only a few photographs. Curious, he pulled them out and looked at them.

  His breath caught in his throat. They were pictures of his granddaughter – in the schoolyard, a
t the park, in the supermarket, in the front yard of her best friend’s house. In the background of each of the photos was the same black man staring menacingly into the lens of the camera. He didn’t recognize the man, but the message was clear. Those African bastards could get to his granddaughter anytime, anywhere, anyplace. He knew he couldn’t take that chance.

  He quickly stuffed the pictures back inside the envelope, took it to his study and shoved it into his briefcase. He then picked up the telephone to call his son.

  ***

  Joseph, Dwe, Saye, Sonia, the shipping company executives and their counsel sat at a large wooden table in the law firm’s main conference room. Bottles of champagne chilled in buckets on the credenza. Platters of fruit, cheese, shrimp, and crudités rested on ornately designed metal trays next to the champagne buckets.

  The president of the shipping company executed the agreement then slid it over to Dwe and handed him the elegant gold pen. Dwe executed the agreement with a flourish and set the pen down onto the table.

  “And so it is done,” Sonia said. “Congratulations to all. Now let's celebrate.” She signaled to the butlers standing by. They popped the champagne corks and handed out glasses of the bubbly golden liquid.

  Dwe raised his glass. “I propose a toast to the future of Liberia Enterprises and the executives of Portside Marine who were gracious enough to make it possible for us to realize our dreams of owning our own shipping fleet.”

  “Hear hear.” They raised their glasses in a toast and took sips of the champagne.

  “I'd like to propose a toast to our beautiful and talented attorney who made this all possible,” Joseph said. He turned to look at Sonia and raised his glass. She felt her cheeks warm as everyone else in the room followed suit.

  Sonia raised her glass. “I'd like to toast my legal counterpart, Judd Nelson, for also helping to make this happen.”

  One of the junior lawyers from Nelson’s law firm turned his laptop to face the former president of the shipping company. “The wire transfer has cleared.”

  The shipping company executive cleared his throat and rose from his chair. “Okay then, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you very much for everything. My daughter's engagement party is tonight and my wife will kill me if I don't get home soon. It’s been a pleasure dealing with all of you.”

  “And you as well,” Dwe said. He walked over to shake the executive’s hand.

  After the executives and their counsel left, Dwe turned to Sonia. “I cannot thank you enough for your guidance and leadership on this deal. You are indeed a beautiful and talented lady. I am having a grand celebration at my house this weekend to celebrate my seventieth birthday. You must come and be my guest.”

  “Mr. Saytumah, thank you very much for your kind words. It has been a pleasure working with you and your family on this matter. Thank you also for your gracious invitation, but I couldn’t possibly take off to Liberia this weekend. Now that this deal has closed, I must turn my attention to other matters,” Sonia said.

  “Nonsense! You have worked very hard for us these past two months. Surely you can take a few days off to have some fun. Joseph will send his car to pick you up and take you to the airport. You will fly on my jet. It is a very long flight, but hopefully you will be comfortable enough on the plane. You will stay at our home in Monrovia,” Dwe said, “for as long as you desire.”

  “Oh, Mr. Saytumah, I couldn’t possibly impose on you to fly me to Liberia and put me up ---.”

  Dwe waived his hand, cutting her off. “It is no imposition at all, my dear. Any friend of Joseph is a friend of the family. You don’t want to disappoint an old man, do you? It would bring me much pleasure to have you at my birthday celebration.” He walked over to Sonia and gave her a hug. She hugged him back. The old man had grown on her.

  “There,” he said. “It is settled. I will see you this weekend. Saye and I must go now. We are leaving for Liberia this afternoon to take care of some business we have been neglecting and to make last-minute arrangements for the celebration.”

  It was Saye’s turn to hug Sonia. “It has been a pleasure meeting and working with you Sonia. I look forward to seeing you at the family compound this weekend.”

  “Have a safe trip,” Sonia said.

  Dwe and Saye said their goodbyes to Joseph and left.

  Sonia shook her head. “Is your father always so hard to say no to?”

  Joseph smiled. “You have no idea. So, where shall we go tonight to celebrate the successful culmination of this deal?”

  “I thought we just finished celebrating,” Sonia said.

  Joseph twisted his lips. “You call this a celebration? Oh no, my lady. To celebrate properly, there must be dinner at least.”

  “We don't need to go out to dinner. I need to spend tonight figuring out how to gracefully let your father know that I won’t be attending his birthday celebration,” Sonia said.

  “There is no getting out of that gracefully. If you don't come, I will never hear the end of it -- for the rest of my life. Joseph put his palms together in a prayer position in front of his chest. Please, please do not back out of the trip now that you have agreed to go.”

  Sonia laughed. The man was practically begging. She didn’t doubt Dwe would ride Joseph if she backed out, but she couldn’t just take off to Liberia for the weekend. “I didn't actually agree to go. I just stopped protesting.”

  Joseph pointed a finger at her. “That is the same thing, and you know it. You cannot back out now. My poor father would be devastated. It would ruin his birthday celebration. You cannot back out of dinner tonight, either. So, once again, where do you want to go? Or shall I surprise you?”

  Sonia looked at him. He looked good, as usual, in his perfectly tailored business suit. She was so tired of fighting the attraction between them. He was wearing her down. And maybe a trip to an exotic land was exactly what she needed. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, really. When was she ever going to be offered a free trip to Africa in a private jet again? And now that the deal had closed, the ethical rules pertaining to intimate relationships with clients no longer applied.

  She shrugged. “What the hell. We only live once. I’ll go -- to Liberia and dinner.”

  Joseph’s smile lit up the room. “Excellent. I will pick you up at your place at eight.”

  “Okay.” She grabbed a legal pad, scribbled her home address on it, tore of the page and handed it to Joseph. “I’ll see you at eight.”

  Joseph reached over, lifted her chin with a finger, and kissed her gently on the cheek. He then turned and walked out of the conference room.

  Sonia stood there for a moment after he left, her hand covering the spot his lips had abandoned, and wondered why the kiss had moved her so much. Somehow, over the past few months, her old feelings for him had resurfaced. It was clear his feelings for her hadn’t faded either.

  She tried to weigh the pros and the cons of them getting together, but she didn’t have enough information. Had he mellowed out as he got older or was he still the jealous and impossibly possessive guy she’d kicked to the curb all those years ago?

  She had certainly mellowed out over the years. There was a good chance he had too. Except for a few instances of flirting and his attempt to give her a shoulder massage, he’d presented himself as a consummate professional during the time they’d worked together on the deal.

  She shrugged. Only time would tell if they were more compatible now than they had been in college.

  ***

  Tyrone, Tara, Naimah and Jared sat inside the dining room of the Nkrumah family mansion in Monrovia. Although Tyrone and Tara had been born in America, their family had lived in Liberia for generations. They were one of the first Americo-Liberian families to settle in Monrovia.

  Tyrone and Tara spent many a summer at the mansion over the years visiting their grandparents who were wealthy and moved in the same social circles as the Saytumahs. Upon their deaths, they had left the mansion to their only daughter who, in turn l
eft it to her children, Tyrone and Tara. Now, it served as the base of the CIA’s Liberian operations.

  Plans of the Saytumah family mansion were strewn across the dining room table, together with a model of the mansion and the outside grounds built to scale.

  “Okay,” Tara said, “we’ve gone over the plan and made a few operational changes. You won’t be going in as our new driver. Instead, you’re going in as one of the marines driving the embassy officials attending the birthday party.”

  Jared nodded his approval. “Smart. That way, if anything goes awry, your cover will remain intact.”

  “You just make sure nothing goes awry,” Tyrone said.

  “I got this,” Jared said.

  “Let’s go over the plan one more time,” Tara said.

  Jared groaned. “We’ve been over the plan a thousand times already. I could recite it in my sleep.”

  Tara raised her eyebrows. “Recite it to me while you’re awake.”

  “Okay. I wait for your signal. Once that comes through, I ask the servants for directions to the restroom. The second I’m out of their sight, I aim Naimah’s device at the nearest camera I see and press the button.”

  He pointed at the map. “I take this hall all the way to the end and make a right here.” He picked up a credit-card like device with a short wire extending from it. “I then use this little baby to bypass the keypad lock he has on the office door. Once inside, I turn on the computer and plug in the flash drive to upload the information.”

  Tyrone nodded. “The first device will enable Naimah to hack into the CCTV system and alter the video feed in the hallway outside the office so that it runs on a loop. It’s important that you wait for her to give you the all clear before you go down the hall. As far as we know, they don’t have a security camera inside the office.”

  “That makes sense,” Jared said. “He probably doesn’t want any of his private conversations recorded. Are we sure there are no additional security measures in his office like infrared sensors or some such thing?”

  “We can’t be a hundred percent sure. That’s why we provided you with the infrared goggles. You should be wearing them before you enter the office to check for any sensors,” Tara said. “You are to abort the mission at the first sign of trouble. I don’t want you playing hero. Do you hear me?”