Chapter Thirty-Nine
In Transit
“Would you please come with me, Mr Jenkins?” the customs official said as he beckoned Ben towards a side office.
Ben felt a twinge of panic. His flight had been long, tiring, but uneventful. And now that he was in Sydney Airport, he felt very hot and sweaty. Everything had gone along without a hitch until the customs official had called him aside. Ben felt like making a run for it, but the official still had his false passport, and so Ben felt he had to comply.
There was a desk and two chairs in the office. The customs official pointed to one of the chairs. “Please sit down, sir.”
Ben did as he was told. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
“Nothing that we can’t straighten out right here and now.” The customs official reached into his pocket as he spoke.
Ben hurriedly got to his feet, but it was a large envelope that the official produced, and thrust into his shaking hands.
“I’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready, sir. Just tap on the door.”
The customs official left, and Ben sank down in the chair. He took a deep breath and sighed, mopping his brow. He waited for his nerves to settle, staring at the large envelope. Finally, he tore it open.
Inside was Ben’s real passport and a first class flight ticket to New York. There was also a letter. Ben read it slowly.
By now you will realise that if I wanted you dead, it would already have happened. So to business. Casarotto and Tyler are both dead, the MedTec and Exchange Quay facilities have been shut down, and Middleton and Hall have evaded us. Middleton has now managed to breach the security of our computer systems. She is our number one priority. You are the only one alive who has been in contact with her. She is your responsibility from now on. No expense will be spared in the funding of your new project. Get back here at once.
Grant.
Ben shook his head in surprise. Casarotto dead. He felt like Christmas had come early. He read the letter again, then picked up the flight ticket and stared at it. Grant must be really worried by the threat Jayne Middleton posed. Ben wondered how she had managed to do that. Killing Casarotto was certainly a good start, but there had to be more to it than that. She must have frightened him, and Grant didn’t frighten easily. That all meant one thing, and it was guaranteed by the second to last line in Grant’s letter. Ben would have a licence to print money.
His mind made up, Ben stood up, stuck his passport and tickets in one pocket, and the letter in another. He walked calmly to the door and tapped on it.
The customs official was waiting outside, and quickly opened the door. “This way, sir. The flight’s been held for you.”
“Good!” Ben said confidently. “Lead the way!”