with his hands.
“I’m supposed to deliver the
keynote speech,” Sara said.
“I feel proud whenever I see
you on TV,” the old man said with a fond smile. “One time when I was out having
a drink with friends, someone spoke about you and I proudly told him that you
knew me. He looked at me as if I had said I was the Queen of England.”
“Maybe someone doesn’t want
you at the summit,” George said. “Did you plan to speak out against someone at
the summit? Did you plan to say something that could destroy someone’s political
career?”
“No, I didn’t plan to
criticize anyone.”
“Are you sure you did not
discover something that could seriously ruin someone’s reputation, political
career or economic interests?”
Sara’s eyes widened. “I
discovered something about satellite images. Someone is covering up something
big.”
“Something big enough to kill
you?”
“I think someone could
consider it big enough to kill for.”
“What did you discover about
satellite images?” Uncle Martin asked.
Sara told them everything
about the failure of NASA, ESA and six satellite imagery companies to livestream
a location in the Indian Ocean.
“This is too much of a
coincidence,” George observed. “Aren’t these companies supposed to be business
rivals?”
“Yes, the privately owned
ones are competitors.”
“Yet they all somehow agreed
not to show real-time images of a particular place at one particular time,”
George reflected.
“It seems someone has the
power to control the companies,” Uncle Martin said.
“And if they can control
satellite imagery companies they sure can control the police,” George said.
“You’re right, George,” Sara
said, chastising herself for daring to think that George had a hand in the
attempt on her life. “Phoning the police is out of the question.”
“Did you tell anyone about
your discovery?” Uncle Martin asked.
“Yes. I told my personal assistant
and my deputy.”
“One of them or both of them
are involved in the attempt on your life,” George said.
“If we don’t trust the
police, who are we going to trust to help us protect Sara?” Uncle Martin asked.
“Certainly not my workmates,”
Sara said.
“Which one of the two do you
suspect more?” George asked.
“It’s difficult to say. Wong,
my deputy, has been somewhat hostile toward me of late and he would be my
natural suspect but you never know. Nzue, my PA, could be the culprit despite
his affability.”
“So for now you’re treating
everyone as a potential suspect?” Uncle Martin said.
“Everyone except George and
you, Uncle Martin,” she said, blushing at the thought that George had been her
first suspect.
“It seems we’re up against a
well-organized syndicate,” Uncle Martin said with a sigh. “We’re obviously
going to need some help to fight this syndicate. If we can’t trust the police,
who’s going to help us fight these murderous bastards?”
Silence befell the room as
everyone pondered over Uncle Martin’s question.
Worry deepened the lines on
the old man’s face. “I hope they didn’t track you here. They got their hooks into
satellite companies and space agencies. I hope they didn’t track you with
satellites.”
“I don’t think they would
have used drones if they could track us with satellites,” George said, sounding
surer than she felt. “When they discover we’re gone, they may look at satellite
photographs of the area.”
“But that will only work if
they capture images of the point where we emerged from the woods and got into the
truck,” Sara said, her heart thumping as if she was back in the woods.
“We have to act fast before
they find us,” George said somberly. “We’re up against a big organization.
They’ll leave no stone unturned in their hunt for Sara.”
“I have a feeling that this
organization has some people in high positions in government,” Sara said.
“This whole thing makes no
sense.” Uncle Martin
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