Wings of the Morning (44 page)

All in all, David thought to himself on Christmas Eve, the only disappointment was the continued silence from his old friend Connie, who remained out of contact.

CONRAD AVELING — 1998

David’s resolution for the New Year was to recover his relationship with Connie. He had been troubled about it all over the holiday period and had received no comfort
from Aischa. Quite the reverse, in fact, and she had been very stern in her judgements. He had been thoughtless and unfeeling in the way he had used Seb Mantel to find his key new man, and if that
wasn’t enough, they had proceeded to pinch Rory Trollope as well, whom Connie had recruited in the first place. Was it really a surprise to him that his old friend had taken such serious
umbrage?

David noted that he hadn’t seen any olive branches coming his way from Conrad, but even so he was chastened by Aischa’s observations. He was also hurt by the rift and he really did
miss Connie for all his good company and especially now when he could really do with his expertise.

As soon as they were all back at work in the first week of January, David rang the Bastion office in Farnham and was put through to Conrad without difficulty. He didn’t have to try hard to
arrange a lunch together in London. They agreed on Connie’s military club for that Friday and it all seemed to go very well. They both managed to stay away from the subject of Zero and
instead updated each other on family news and gossip. David asked about Bastion business and Connie was keen to hear news of Pente, his relatively recent retirement from Africa and the reasons for
it.

It was when they had moved to take coffee in a secluded corner that things went disastrously wrong. Conrad asked how matters were progressing at The Mansion House. David gave him a run down and
concluded with a dig at himself.

‘Honestly, Connie, I do feel a dinosaur when it comes to computers and so much revolves around them these days. I really struggle to keep up with what Felix is telling me, but still,
I’ll be out of it soon enough I suppose.’

Conrad looked up sharply.

‘You are retiring then?’

‘Well. Look, Connie, you know what I’m doing. We don’t have to discuss it again.’

‘I see. Well, I must say that’s a disappointment, David. I was thinking you’d ask to meet so you could tell me that you’ve abandoned that idea.’

‘No. No, I certainly haven’t. In fact, we’re doing pretty well with the detail plans.’

‘We?’

‘Well, Felix and I, plus Pente and King who are now with us. And Hugh Dundas of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Conrad with a curl to his lip, ‘which means Alexa too.’ He said it as a statement.

‘Look, Connie,’ said David trying to retrieve a situation which he felt slipping from him, ‘would you let me tell you more of where we’ve got to. I think you’d be
interested. I would certainly value your opinions and I would appreciate the chance to introduce you to Fergus Carradine, our military man. He’s asked to meet you and says he has a great
respect for your reputation. It was Seb who ...’

‘Yes, I know well enough. Seb found him for you and Seb nicked young Trollope for you as well.’

‘Connie, ...’

But Conrad cut him off again.

‘David, you don’t seem to have got the message from the two times I’ve told you already. I want absolutely nothing to do with this project of yours. So far as I’m
concerned, it’s mad, bad and barmy. It’s also immoral. It’s just fucking wrong.’

It was very unusual for Conrad to use such language and his state of upset was reinforced by the high colour in his face as he spoke and the clatter with which he set down his coffee cup. He
made an attempt to recover himself, apologising and then adding,

‘We’ve just got to agree to differ on this, David, but not on everything. You’re getting our reports on that contract.’

Again, he made it a statement and David, already distressed by the turn in the conversation, allowed himself to be riled by what he saw as a pretty high handed comment. He made a bad mistake,
hearing himself say,

‘Oh sure, I’m getting help from you on that one. But of course, you’re being paid for it.’

Conrad went a mottled puce as he stared at him. Then he stood abruptly.

‘I’ll settle the bill here. I suggest you get on your way.’

He turned on his heel and stalked out.

David sighed deeply. He went through to the porter’s desk and collected his coat and scarf. They called him a cab and he brooded on the short journey back to The Mansion House. He was not
looking forward to recounting that grim incident to Aischa and knew she would be angry at his insensitivity. But he had been provoked, by God. He knew himself and he knew what he would do now.
He’d stay angry for a while, then he would be maudlin sad. Then he’d put it behind him. Conrad was his first and special friend. But things change, and so do people.

In another cab on its way to Waterloo, Conrad was steaming. It wasn’t just the arrogance of David which got to him, although that was bad enough. He remained hurt also at the way David had
gone off to Sebastien behind his back, and the way Seb had accommodated him, not once but twice. There was something else which he kept to himself. He had taken payment from The Mansion House in
the matter of Ginger McCabe and he arranged for regular billing thereafter. He even assigned a member of his staff to the file which was properly opened. And then put on hold. Connie told himself
that if David Heaven was able to withhold information which he knew would wound, then he would do likewise.

DAVID HEAVEN — 1998

They met in the middle of October, a Thursday, and gathered in the dining room at The Mansion House. The time was twelve noon and there was a buffet lunch, set out against the
back wall, leaving people to help themselves. Present were David and Aischa, Martin Kirchoff and Ruth, Hugh Dundas with Alexa, Pente Broke Smith, King Offenbach, Felix Maas and Fergus Carradine.
There was no seating plan, no order of priority. Smiling around them all, David felt proud, happy, stimulated: also painfully conscious of who was not here, Connie Aveling, the one whom he had most
expected to be with him this day.

David took a drink from his plain tonic water, cleared his throat and began to speak.

‘This is a momentous day for us. It’s time for me to tell you where we stand and you’re going to peer over a precipice. You may not like all you see, so this is your last
chance to pull back. It’s the point of commitment. That’s a lot to ask of you, but there’s no need to hurry. We can sit here for as long as it takes and there’s a big, fat
folder to take away with you.’

He paused briefly. There was no hint of interruption so he continued.

‘I’m going to start with a summary of Project Zero. It’s brief and I’ll set it out for you under a few headings.

‘First, WHO? Who are we? Answer. We’re close friends, some over many years, others more recent. We’re like minded with a common interest and a shared objective. We travel the
same road, but we won’t all end up in the same place.

‘WHAT? What’s the mission? What’s the purpose? It is to take control of an existing sovereign state on the continent of Africa, and therein found a new nation.

‘WHERE? We’ve not been short of alternatives. We considered every prospect and our research has been meticulous thanks to the efforts of Felix. Our target has to be neither too small
nor too large, and not too populous. It must not be landlocked. Our instinct preferred the West Coast and we compiled six possible targets from the nineteen countries which link the Mediterranean
to the Cape. I have made our choice and I will reveal this to you in a few minutes.

‘WHEN? The First of January 2000. What better day for a birth? And it provides the name for our new country and nation. It will be called Millennium.

‘WHY? ... This is the heart’s blood question. Why? Here’s my answer, and I hope it speaks for all of you. We are all touched by Africa. Aischa was born there, Alexa blighted
and Hugh impelled. Africa drives The Mansion House which is the way of life for Martin and Ruth. Pente and King have both devoted a working lifetime to this continent. Fergus is our committed
professional, and Ursula is my valuable assistant and constant friend.

‘And as for me? Well, I was captivated by Africa from my first visit and over the years, her countries have become my raison d’etre. But she has become also the nemesis of my spirit.
I have watched from a grandstand view to see Africa’s resources pillaged, her peoples impoverished, governance corrupted and prospects diminished. There have been reasons for the backwards
slide, any number of them: but not an excuse, never a justification, not an imperative or a force majeure. Rather, we have suffered endless examples of bad luck, bad management and vicious
greed.

‘It’s time for a change. Project Zero has developed into a clear strategy to reverse the tide of five decades. Saying that is not grandiloquence. We’re going to prove our point
and others will follow our lead. We’re not going to waste more time and energy in fruitless debate. We won’t take “no” for an answer: we won’t be listening for an
answer. We’ll arrive in strife, but we’ll settle in peace and growing harmony. Our new order will prove through demonstration rather than rhetoric the enormous capability of Africa,
given leadership and opportunity. Over the last fifty years of so, the world has admired the achievements of Japan, then Korea, the Indians and the Chinese. Now it’s the turn of Africa.

‘Nevertheless, our motives will be impugned. We have no legitimacy for taking the action we plan and we will be branded as latter day pirates. Comparisons will be drawn with the invasion
of the Falklands and Saddam’s annexation of Kuwait. We will be condemned for brutality and profiteering. Global reaction will be instant and most of it ill considered, but we can’t
complain at that. It is we who are making a pre-emptive strike and we must expect to be judged. We can win a battle, but we can’t sustain a war. If we are to succeed, we must win a welcome
and as always, actions will speak louder than words.

‘We have to strike fast and sure to take absolute control with minimum casualties. Then we must follow up with immediate help and succour. The city which is our first target is suffering.
The inhabitants are not at starvation level, but they grind through a tough life on low incomes, intermittent power and water, an absence of healthcare, practically no transport, ramshackle
housing, inadequate sanitation: the list goes on. Overarching this grim standard of life is an unforgiving dictatorship in which a few enjoy privilege and comforts while exerting iron control over
the less fortunate through arrant corruption and a brutal police force.

‘The capital is our first base but it’s not our preoccupation. Because of the general deprivation, there’s been urban drift with people flocking in from the bush and provincial
towns. Paradoxically therefore, the faster we bring improvement to the city, the more of a problem we create in the hinterland. We have to roll out the benefits of our takeover clear across the
country, and we are talking of a large land mass with dreadful road conditions.

‘It’s a huge task which requires people and equipment. Plus there’s the need for speed and secrecy until the moment of our arrival. How do you conjure up such assets in place,
on time and without warning?

‘Before I answer that, does anyone want to question what I’ve covered so far?’

David moved round the room to pour himself a cup of coffee, conscious of the shifting and stirrings behind him. It was King who found words for all of them when he remarked,

‘David, there’s a helluva lot to absorb here. Of course there is. But you made the point earlier that we’ve time and more for talking and going over things which are not
understood or which cause a problem. I suggest it’s better for you to finish first, then we chew it all over again. Agreed?’ He finished by looking around the table and there were
answering nods.

David resumed his seat and said, ‘OK and thanks King. Let’s move to my final heading.

‘HOW? For this, I’m going to get some help and let’s start with you Felix. Tell us how you went about the research and preparation.’