consulted with Russell, who nodded that he could go ahead.
‘Number twenty-three on the expedition is Mr Raymond Kayn.’
All conversation stopped.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ one of the hired soldiers asked.
‘It means that the boss is going on the expedition. As all of you know, he came on board a few hours ago and he’ll be travelling with us. Does that seem strange to you, Mr Torres?’
‘Jesus Christ, everybody says the old man’s crazy,’ Torres replied. ‘It’s hard enough protecting the sane ones, but the locos . . .’
Torres appeared to be from South America. He was short, thin, dark-skinned, and spoke English with a strong Latino accent.
‘Torres,’ said a voice behind him.
The soldier shrank back in his chair, but didn’t turn around. Dekker was obviously going to make sure his man didn’t continue to stick his foot in his mouth.
In the meantime Forrester had sat down and Jacob Russell had taken the floor. Andrea noticed there wasn’t a single wrinkle on his white jacket.
‘Good afternoon, everyone. I want to thank Professor Cecyl Forrester for his moving presentation. And on behalf of myself and Kayn Industries, I want to express my gratitude to all of you for being present. I don’t have much to add, except for two very important points. First, from this moment on, all communication with the outside world is strictly forbidden. This includes mobile phones, e-mail and verbal communication. Until we’ve accomplished our mission, this is your universe. You will understand in time why this measure is necessary to safeguard both the success of such a sensitive mission and our own security.’
There were a few whispered complaints, but they were half-hearted. Everyone already knew what Russell had told them because it had been specified in the lengthy contract each one had signed.
‘The second point is a great deal more unpleasant. A security consultancy has given us a report, not yet confirmed, that an Islamic terrorist group knows about our mission and is planning an attack.’
‘What . . .?’
‘. . . must be a hoax . . .’
‘. . . dangerous . . .’
Kayn’s assistant raised his arms to calm everyone down. He was evidently prepared for the avalanche of questions.
‘Don’t be alarmed. I just want you to be alert and not to run any unnecessary risks, much less tell anyone outside this group about our final destination. I don’t know how the leak could have happened but, believe me, we’re looking into it and will take appropriate action.’
‘Could it have come from inside the Jordanian government?’ Andrea asked. ‘A group like ours is bound to attract attention.’
‘As far as the Jordanian government is concerned, we’re a commercial expedition doing a preparatory study for a phosphates mine in the Al Mudawwara area of Jordan, close to the Saudi border. None of you will go through Customs, so don’t worry about your cover.’
‘I’m not worried about my cover, I’m worried about the terrorists,’ said Kyra Larsen, one of Professor Forrester’s assistants.
‘You needn’t worry about them as long as we’re here to protect you,’ flirted one of the soldiers.
‘The report isn’t confirmed, it’s only a rumour. And rumours can’t harm you,’ said Russell with a broad smile.
But confirmations can , thought Andrea.
The meeting was over a few minutes later. Russell, Dekker, Forrester and some of the others went to their cabins. At the door of the meeting room were two carts with sandwiches and drinks that some crew member had discreetly left there. Evidently, the expedition members were already being isolated from the crew.
Those who stayed behind in the room talked animatedly about the new information as they attacked the food. Andrea spoke at length with Dr Harel and Tommy Eichberg while she wolfed down roast beef sandwiches and a couple of beers.
‘I’m glad your appetite is back, Andrea.’
‘Thanks, Doc. Unfortunately, after each
‘Number twenty-three on the expedition is Mr Raymond Kayn.’
All conversation stopped.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ one of the hired soldiers asked.
‘It means that the boss is going on the expedition. As all of you know, he came on board a few hours ago and he’ll be travelling with us. Does that seem strange to you, Mr Torres?’
‘Jesus Christ, everybody says the old man’s crazy,’ Torres replied. ‘It’s hard enough protecting the sane ones, but the locos . . .’
Torres appeared to be from South America. He was short, thin, dark-skinned, and spoke English with a strong Latino accent.
‘Torres,’ said a voice behind him.
The soldier shrank back in his chair, but didn’t turn around. Dekker was obviously going to make sure his man didn’t continue to stick his foot in his mouth.
In the meantime Forrester had sat down and Jacob Russell had taken the floor. Andrea noticed there wasn’t a single wrinkle on his white jacket.
‘Good afternoon, everyone. I want to thank Professor Cecyl Forrester for his moving presentation. And on behalf of myself and Kayn Industries, I want to express my gratitude to all of you for being present. I don’t have much to add, except for two very important points. First, from this moment on, all communication with the outside world is strictly forbidden. This includes mobile phones, e-mail and verbal communication. Until we’ve accomplished our mission, this is your universe. You will understand in time why this measure is necessary to safeguard both the success of such a sensitive mission and our own security.’
There were a few whispered complaints, but they were half-hearted. Everyone already knew what Russell had told them because it had been specified in the lengthy contract each one had signed.
‘The second point is a great deal more unpleasant. A security consultancy has given us a report, not yet confirmed, that an Islamic terrorist group knows about our mission and is planning an attack.’
‘What . . .?’
‘. . . must be a hoax . . .’
‘. . . dangerous . . .’
Kayn’s assistant raised his arms to calm everyone down. He was evidently prepared for the avalanche of questions.
‘Don’t be alarmed. I just want you to be alert and not to run any unnecessary risks, much less tell anyone outside this group about our final destination. I don’t know how the leak could have happened but, believe me, we’re looking into it and will take appropriate action.’
‘Could it have come from inside the Jordanian government?’ Andrea asked. ‘A group like ours is bound to attract attention.’
‘As far as the Jordanian government is concerned, we’re a commercial expedition doing a preparatory study for a phosphates mine in the Al Mudawwara area of Jordan, close to the Saudi border. None of you will go through Customs, so don’t worry about your cover.’
‘I’m not worried about my cover, I’m worried about the terrorists,’ said Kyra Larsen, one of Professor Forrester’s assistants.
‘You needn’t worry about them as long as we’re here to protect you,’ flirted one of the soldiers.
‘The report isn’t confirmed, it’s only a rumour. And rumours can’t harm you,’ said Russell with a broad smile.
But confirmations can , thought Andrea.
The meeting was over a few minutes later. Russell, Dekker, Forrester and some of the others went to their cabins. At the door of the meeting room were two carts with sandwiches and drinks that some crew member had discreetly left there. Evidently, the expedition members were already being isolated from the crew.
Those who stayed behind in the room talked animatedly about the new information as they attacked the food. Andrea spoke at length with Dr Harel and Tommy Eichberg while she wolfed down roast beef sandwiches and a couple of beers.
‘I’m glad your appetite is back, Andrea.’
‘Thanks, Doc. Unfortunately, after each
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