stable condition. This brings the total to nine major political assassinations in the last six months…”
The television exploded as the solid crystal paperweight hit the screen. Doors flew open and the room filled with heavily armed men. Four of them made for the figure behind the desk, throwing him unceremoniously to the floor. Another two tackled the man in front of the desk, one placing a gun to his forehead while the other secured his hands. Confusion reigned as more men filled the room. Finally, the doors to the office were closed and secured.
“Mr President, are you OK Sir?” asked the Secret Service Agent in charge.
“No, I’m not! Get these damn idiots off me!”
“Sir, we have reason to believe that an attempt has been made on your life. An explosion was heard in your office.”
“Yes, caused by me. It was my TV. Now get off me and get out!” screamed the President. “Beaumont, where the hell are you?”
“I’m here Sir,” came a muffled response from the floor. His face was being pushed into the presidential emblem on the rug.
Ten minutes later and with order restored, the President and Beaumont were left alone in the Oval office.
“What’s the latest on the Russian Prime Minister and have we heard from the imbecile yet?” barked the President.
“Yes, he just called when I was outside. He assures me everything is fine, there’s no way the Prime Minister will survive. They’re just trying to calm people down by saying he’s stable. Our man’s already been approached by half the cabinet to take control when they announce the Prime Minister’s death. The plan worked perfectly, our man will be in power within 24 hours. Congratulations Mr President.”
“Excellent…Beaumont…Excellent!”
Twenty four hours later and under the gaze of the world’s media, the former Minister for State Security was sworn in as the new Russian President. His heroic defence of the country against the rogue General had assured him instant acceptance in Russia and across world.
The fact that he had been responsible for the cold blooded murder of the President, the Prime Minister and a very loyal General were known only to himself, Beaumont and the President of the United States of America. The coup d’etat and rogue General story were an elaborate ploy to elicit support for somebody who, up until then, had been a minor, second-rate politician.
Chapter 3
Four months later
“The Prime Minister of Japan has been assassinated, this is the twelfth assassination in the last year. We cross over now to our Japan correspondent who is at the scene…”
“DAD!” shouted Tom through to the kitchen. “Turn on the news, Mr Tanaka has been killed!”
Hearing no response, Tom got up and walked through to the kitchen. His father sat motionless, his head in his hands, the TV was on, the story playing in the background.
“Are you OK Dad?”
“Sorry,” he replied. “I just can’t believe it, I was speaking to him two days ago. We just agreed a major contract for Alba’s Japanese division,” said Donald shaking his head in disbelief.
Tom didn’t know what to say. Of the previous eleven assassinations, six were close friends of his father’s. Tom’s father was the richest man in the world and owner of the world’s largest company, Alba International. His father’s mobile phone rang. Donald didn’t move so Tom answered it.
“Hello, Donald Kennedy’s phone,” said Tom.
“Hi Tom,” came a solemn Mr Sakamoto.
“Hi Mr Sakamoto, how are you?”
“OK, under the circumstances. Are you looking forward to school? What is it, less than a week to go?”
“Yep, I’m counting down the hours.”
“Excellent,” he said ignoring the sarcasm. “Is your dad around?”
Tom looked across at his father who had heard Tom deliberately say Mr Sakamoto’s name so he knew who it was and nodded that he would take the call. Tom handed the phone to his father just as Lela came into the room. Tom put his hands to his lips motioning for Lela to stay quiet and pointed to the next room.
“What’s up?” said Lela as they walked into the lounge, concerned at the dramatic scene behind them in the kitchen.
“Mr Tanaka, the Japanese Prime Minister has been assassinated,” replied Tom bluntly.
“NO!”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God I can’t believe it, how many leaders have been killed now?” asked Lela, having lost count.
“It was eleven before today, the President and Prime Ministers in Russia and India, the Presidents of Brazil, Indonesia, Mexico, South Korea, Turkey, South Africa and the Prime Minister of Italy,” replied Tom counting them off finger by finger.
“Why can’t they stop it? I mean extra security or whatever, it just seems bizarre that they can’t protect these people.”
“I know but they’re being killed by people close to them, people they’ve always trusted, look at the Russians, killed by one of their most decorated Generals.”
“How’s your dad?” asked Lela, changing the subject.
“It’s hitting him hard. You know what he’s like about security. He’s not saying anything but I think he thinks he’s on the list of whoever is doing this.”
“What? Surely not, it’s only prime ministers and presidents who’ve been assassinated.”
“I know but didn’t you wonder why my birthday party was so subdued? Remember last year, we had friends jetting in from all over the world. Not this year, all we had were my grandparents and a pack of blood thirsty hounds patrolling the grounds day and night.”
Tom was referring to the latest addition to the world’s most secure private estate, which consisted, of over 20 square miles of beautiful Scottish countryside protected by the most advanced and expensive security system ever devised. A system recently supplemented by one of the oldest and most reliable security measures, a pack of 20 Rottweillers which patrolled the grounds, each the size and weight of a fully grown man with twice the power. Everyone in the Kennedy household had objected to their presence but Donald had been insistent. Tom’s mother, Rachel, still wasn’t speaking to his father for having bought the dogs.
“I just took it for granted that was your choice, you know, after last year’s fiasco in the cinema,” said Lela.
“No, it had nothing to do with you kicking the crap out of those idiots!”
Lela and Tom lived as brother and sister although they were from different families. Their parents had been thrown together fifteen years earlier as a team of assassins had tried to kill Tom’s parents. Lela’s father, Saki, had saved them. He was one of the most lethal fighters ever born. Unfortunately, Lela’s mother had died during the attack but thanks to Donald, Lela was saved. In gratitude, Saki pledged to protect the Kennedys forever and that is how the bizarre union between the Scots and the South China Sea islanders began.
Saki, like every islander, had been trained in a secret and extraordinarily powerful martial art from birth. This tradition dated back to his ancestors who first inhabited the island thousands of years earlier. They were the sole survivors of an elite tribe, the most feared fighters ever known, dedicated to the protection of an ancient empire and its emperors. Their island, ‘Penaraja’, was named in their honour and meant ‘Emperors’ Guard’.
Saki had begun Lela’s training shortly after birth, such was the complexity and intricacy of the movements required to master it. The art was the first pure martial art which, over the centuries, has been diluted by others into modern martial arts such as Kung Fu, Karate, Jujitsu and Tai Chi. Only the Penarajans, with their intense
