The Chronicles of Amon book 2 The Sea of Marmara
Chapter 5.
Amon had arrived with the entourage of King Abdullah of Tunisia just after sunrise. Only a select few knew of their arrival. There was a small dock behind the hotel that was used for off-loading freight and other supplies. It wasn’t easily seen from the casino or the marina. It was, after all, a service dock. It just wouldn’t do for anyone to see the mundane day-to-day operations of the facility. Even if someone were able to observe, they wouldn’t see what lay eighty feet beneath the dock.
The land on which the buildings stood was actually a man-made island. Before the island was created, a deep under-water trench had been dug and lined with concrete. The superstructure of the hotel was then built right over the top of it. The trench was wide and deep enough to accommodate two small tactical submarines. The subs could ‘surface’ enough to expose their conning towers inside the expanse under the hotel.
Amon was the first to exit the sub. Seeing that all was clear, he stepped aside and held the door as a majestic-looking man stepped out. Then, one step behind, he followed the man up the short ramp to the dock. Cuffed to his right wrist, he carried a thin attache’ case. Inside were passports, letters of introduction, a small hand-held radio, and a 9 millimetre semi-automatic pistol.
“Welcome, your Highness.” The concierge bowed as he spoke. The king nodded in acknowledgement. “Your excellency, your suite has been made ready; if you will please follow me. Accommodations for your staff are still being inspected and will be ready quite soon. My assistant will take them to their rooms when they are ready.” He bowed again, as did the young and obviously nervous young man at his side.
“Thank you.” The king nodded toward Andre. “My secretary will accompany me.” He gestured for the concierge to lead the way.
“Your Highness, you are among the first to arrive. Her majesty, the Duchess of York asks that you be informed her husband, the Duke will not be in attendance. He has been delayed in Huanong and informs us that his wife the Duchess will speak in his behalf. President Grismon of the North American Conglomerate arrived only hours ago and sends his regards. He requests that you receive him as soon as you are settled in your rooms.”
“Please inform the president that I am quite fatigued after my long voyage and wish to rest. I look forward to meeting with him in the morning when the conference begins.”
“Very well, sir . . . er . . . your Highness, the man said nervously. “Will you please follow me?” The three men moved off toward the elevator, leaving the remaining entourage behind with the assistant.
The king’s suite was on the 19th floor, indicative of his standing among the delegates who were to attend the conference. Two guards standing at the entrance saluted and opened the doors at his approach.
“Please inform the Director we have our own security. They will arrive in moments to replace your men.” Amon spoke sternly, freezing the hapless man with an icy stare.
“But mister secretary, our security is. . . .”
“Thank you. That will be all for now.” The king interjected condescendingly. Nodding for Amon to lead the way, he turned his back to the man.
“As you wish, your Highness. I will send a maid to prepare your bed immediately.”
“That will not be necessary,” Amon said dryly as he closed the two heavy doors.
The concierge remained motionless for another moment, standing alone there in the hall, facing the door which had just been closed in his face. His jaw muscles tensed. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Anger at being reproached vied with fear of what his employer would do when he found out his orders had been over-ridden.
Amon slid the locking bolts into place, pausing for only a moment to gather his thoughts. He felt badly that he had treated the servant with such rudeness. His actions with the concierge were typical of the duties he was expected to perform as the kings “man.” He had spent much of the last year insinuating himself into the good graces of this, the most powerful remaining monarch on the planet. To step out of character at any time would almost certainly bring disaster.
Amon was by nature a gentle person. Over his many years he had learned that a soothing word went much further toward maintaining good relations than did harshness. His natural inclination when confronting the concierge was to speak kindly, but persuasively. But he knew he must not let his guard down. He must remain in character continually so that the king’s suspicions would be allayed. Though Abdullah pretended not to notice, Amon knew his every move was being watched. His strong words with the hapless servant had been for the king to see.
As for the king himself; It was imperative, at this late date, that he be guided slowly and carefully. He was, by general agreement, one of the most influential people on the planet. Amon must be careful how he influenced the chain of events that was about to unfold.
Abdullah watched with thinly veiled amusement as his “man” closed the door in the servants face. He liked to watch power being wielded, especially when it was he who was doing the wielding. But he also enjoyed watching others wield it in his behalf. He and they both knew that he could take away that power at any moment. It gave him a feeling of perverse pleasure to watch as people came to the stark realization that they were powerless in his presence.
Still, there was something not quite right about this man Amon. He couldn’t put his finger on it. It was only a minor concern really. In the year that Amon had been at his side, he had never given the king reason to doubt him. His words and actions had always been consistent. Even when Amon left to go to the Johannesburg ruins, he had requested a contingent of Abdullah’s elite guard accompany him, not so much for his own security, but rather to assure the King that he was loyal and could be trusted.
What was it then that made Abdullah feel so uneasy? His mind pondered these things as he watched Amon dismiss the concierge.