DAKAR: The Savoi Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 4)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4Within twenty minutes from letting the gear down to land in Dakar, Pierre came out of the cockpit. He looked down at his passenger. She was staring out at the clouds beyond the window. She looked absent. She appeared deaf. He sat in the same seat opposite Talya. “Madame Kartz, we’ll be landing in less than a half-an-hour—”

Talya looked up at him—their eyes locked. Almost mechanically, she gave him an answer. “I promised you the whole story, so here it is...”

When Talya finished telling him what she wanted him to know, no more, no less, she said, “I hope you believe me.”

“This is the first time something like this ever happened to me, and yes, I do believe you.” Pierre replied. “As for the trouble we may find waiting for us in Dakar, it’s no trouble at all. In fact, our company was quite annoyed with Monsieur Hjamal—”

Suddenly as if a voice called him from the blue yonder, Pierre got up and rushed to the cockpit, shouting over the engine’s noise, “Please buckle up, we’re landing shortly.”

Talya did as requested and relaxed. She was calm. No more fear. Just sheer determination was motioning her every thought. She was on her way to the place where all the missing pieces of this fantastic puzzle would be brought together and the picture revealed.

It was 14:15, when the Lear touched down. As soon as the plane came to a standstill in front of a hangar—not much better-looking than the shack they had left behind in Bamako—Pierre came back and sat down once again.

Facing Talya, he looked into her eyes. “The ambassador isn’t here, as you can see.” He pointed out the window. “But don’t worry, I still believe you. I gather you don’t want to go to the Terranga?”

What a silly question.

“You’re right at that. There is no way I’d set foot in that hotel. But, I have a reservation at the Meridien for tomorrow.”

“Well then, we’ll take you to the Meridien. I’ll put you up in the suite that my company maintains there. You’ll be safer there than if you take up your reservation. But Monsieur Hjamal will know that you’re in Dakar the minute I contact him.”

Talya grinned. “That’s alright. I’ll see him tomorrow..., as originally planned.”

By this time, the navigator had joined them. “Madame Kartz, my name is John—and let’s leave it at that for now. Pierre has told me briefly, what’s going on. As his co-pilot, I can’t go against his orders when we’re in the air, but when we’re on the ground, that’s another matter. Down here, I trust him as a friend. After hearing your story, I think you can count on my support as well. We don’t like con-artists and criminals in general, and we certainly don’t want to work for one.”

“All I can say, gentlemen, is thank you for coming back to get me out of the mine site.” Talya felt very relieved. “I really appreciate what you’ve done, believe me.”

Not expecting to find any support or a helping hand on the ground, now that the game had taken an unexpected turn, Talya was glad to have these two men to escort her to the safe haven that the Meridien should be.

John smiled. He then turned and left Talya and Pierre, to get the door opened and the stairwell lowered. John was a handsome young man, tall with a nonchalant attitude. Yet he seemed to have inner-peace that made Talya feel comfortable in his presence. He spoke French fluently with a slight African-English accent. His caramel complexion was smooth as a baby’s bottom. With his curly black hair and thin black moustache, light brown eyes and high cheekbones, he looked like a celebrated movie actor straight out of the 1930’s picture films.

Talya shot an inquisitive glance in John’s direction. “He said his name was John, but he didn’t want to tell his last name. Why was that?”

Pierre smiled. “We call him John.” He must have been asked the same question hundreds of times. “His last name is too hard for anyone to pronounce or to remember. He’s from Ethiopia but he was raised in a French boarding school. He did his training in England. And, I’ll tell you a little secret, when he’s out of uniform he’s quite a character.”

“What about you, where were you trained?”

“In France, at the Aeronautic School near Paris. I really didn’t enjoy the training—much too rigid for me. I could hardly wait to get ‘my wings’. I only did the schooling because without it, commercial flying would have been out of reach, and when I started flying, there was no holding me back. I was like a kid at Christmas. Every time I had the yoke in my hands, I was happy. Even now, it’s like that. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

They unloaded their luggage, and a few items that would remain at the airport waiting for their next flight. The ground attendants went deftly at their tasks and after gathering her meagre belongings, John directed Talya to the hangar where an immigration officer was waiting for them. After filling out the landing forms, having everyone’s passports stamped, John led Talya out of the hangar to a waiting car.

“We’ll wait for Pierre in the car.” he said. “He has to file the flight report and lock the engines. He won’t be long.”

“Thank you.” Talya replied, climbing in the back seat of the vehicle. “Pierre tells me you’re from Ethiopia?”

“Yes. My parents were fortunate enough to be able to send me away when I was a boy. I hope to return to my country someday soon, when I have saved enough money to buy them a nice house for when they get old.”