37. The Flight
The Flight
Amir was restless as the flight progressed over the Atlantic.
He had spoken earlier to some associates back in France, and things had taken a turn for the worse.
Government linked buyers pulled out of the auction he had planned, and although several interested parties remained, the prospects of securing the most money for the hard drive were dwindling.
He needed something tangible. Weapon schematics.
Intelligence data that he could sell. Anything.
But Amir didn’t know what was inside the hard drive.
And so, his men could not promote it properly to interested parties; no one wants to spend billions on a mystery box.
Or, in this case, a mystery hard drive. For all they knew, it could be filled with bad karaoke songs.
Amir, frustrated by their lack of faith, grabbed the laptop from its carrier and placed it on his lap; he opened it and stared at the screen.
Then, he reached down to a cable and gently pulled it towards him.
He passed his fingers across the bold gold letters on the device before placing it down next to the laptop.
“Well?” Nazim asked, watching Amir mess with the laptop.
Amir was desperate to find out what was inside the hard drive.
The DIANA folder. What secrets lay within and, more importantly, how much cash he could get for it.
APOLLO was known for making some of the most advanced weapons in the past two decades; their technological breakthroughs were equally impressive.
“What do you think is inside?” Omar asked. “Diagrams for new weapons? Or maybe a new tank design?”
“This is broken,” Amir said in frustration.
“You’re no computer expert, huh?” Salim quipped. Amir, irritated by his comment, handed Salim the computer.
“Let me see you do better,” Amir said. Salim moved the cursor to the folder and opened the options tab. “Copy, rename, extract? What does that mean?”
“Extract?” Salim said.
“What’s this word?” Amir said.
“It means to take out,” Salim replied, hovering over the option.
“Click it! That’s what we want,” Nazim said excitedly.
“Okay! Okay!” Salim said, clicking on the option. Amir watched anxiously as a little timer appeared on the screen. He waited and waited as the cursor turned back to normal and then into a clock. Nothing seemed to happen for the longest time until suddenly a message appeared on the screen.
“Internet connection required. Battery too low,” Salim read aloud. Amir slammed the lid down on the laptop and pushed it away in frustration. The drive hanging from the USB cord went with it.
“Monaco. We’ll try again in Monaco,” Amir said.
“Why does it need internet access to open the file?” Ahmed said.
“I don’t know. But if that’s all it needs, we will connect it to the internet and see,” Amir said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s valuable.”
“The company specializes in cutting-edge technology. Whatever it is, we’ll profit from selling it,” Nazim added.
“What’s the first thing you will do after you sell it?” Omar asked.
“I know what I want. There is this beautiful woman,” Ahmed said, smiling brightly. “Her name is Paola. She has hair like silk and the face of an angel.”
“You are going to buy her?” Salim said.
“I cannot buy her. She is no slave!” Ahmed replied.
“A gift, you imbecile,” Salim said, and bit into an apple. “Buy her a gift.”
“Yes! I will buy her the most wonderful things,” Ahmed said, trailing off as he went.
“What a lucky woman she is,” Amir said. “I hope she rewards you well, my friend.”
“And you, Amir?” Salim asked.
“Me? Ah!” Amir said. “What a question! What can a man who has it all want in this world?”
“Power!” Omar said.
“A beautiful home,” Nazim quipped.
“All good answers, my friends, but no. Loyalty,” Amir said. “Loyalty is all that I desire. And it is something that cannot be bought with silver nor gold.”
“You have ours,” Ahmed said, raising his drink. The men erupted in cheers and celebrated their friendship, which had grown stronger since their arrival.
“Will you leave this behind once we sell the drive?” Omar said suddenly, as the talking subsided.
“Maybe I will find a pleasant woman and bed her. And start a new life back in our village. But there will always be war. It is all I know to do. How I make a living,” Amir said.
“Everyone else profits from war. Why not us?” Salim said. Ahmed and Omar looked at each other.
“And the village?” Nazim asked.
“Right! We will all profit in the end,” Amir replied, his voice trailing off. “The village included.”
Amir looked out the window and smiled as the clouds parted under the jet, revealing the beautiful moon reflecting off a serene ocean.
The flight had made it to the halfway point by now; it was close to midnight, and in several hours, he’d be arriving in Monaco to conduct business as he did every year.
But this time, Amir had caught the attention of large players in the black market with deep pockets and deeper ambitions, which he planned to exploit for his sole benefit.
Amir had become insatiable. And it was his greed that guided his actions.
One so powerful that it blinded him to the very reasons he chose this life in the first place. To help others back home.