Chapter 7: Africa

Sylvia struggled with the large suitcase, her shoulders and biceps straining with exertion as she tried to wrestle it down the stairs. Finally, she reached the front entrance, and sure enough, there was a car already waiting for her. The driver spotted her, quickly coming to the front door to relieve her of the luggage she’d packed in a whirlwind of activity last night.

Her final exam had only been two days ago, and the time since then had been spent entirely on shopping and preparing for the trip. Mr. Thompson had given her a list of all the things she would need, and Sylvia felt thankful for it. WIthout the list, she knew it would have been nearly impossible to get everything she needed in time. It’s nice to have someone tell me exactly what’s expected, she mused. It was a great departure from dealing with family, and Cynthia of late. Sylvia’s roommate had feigned excitement upon hearing about the position, but Sylvia knew it was only out of courtesy. Cynthia barely woke this morning, offering Sylvia only a half hug and kiss on the cheek before padding back into her bedroom.

The drive to JFK went exactly as expected, right up until the point where the driver bypassed the regular departure gate. Instead, he drove to a different terminal entirely, where access was barred by a gate with a security guard posted. They conversed quickly, and the gate was opened to allow the Mercedes to roll through. The area beyond was exclusively for private owned aircrafts and charter services. To the left and right were rows of hangars, each filled with learjets and G5s. They drove all the way to the end, where a plane was already idling on the apron, it’s tail-wing featuring the Pinnacle Holding logo. Parked next to it was another Mercedes, which their own pulled next to.

Sylvia slipped out from the backseat before the driver could get to the door, but he quickly stopped her before she could open the trunk to retrieve her luggage. “I’ll take care of that, ma’am. Mr. Thompson is waiting for you on board.” She sighed, things like this would take time to get used to. Pulling on her sunglasses, Sylvia crossed the short distance to the staircase that led to the bulkhead. At the top there was a TSA officer waiting, who took her passport, quickly checked it, and then added a departure stamp before handing it back to her. “Enjoy your flight,” he chimed cheerfully before leaving to head back to the main terminal.

Stepping onto the plane, Sylvia realized this would be nothing like any flight she’d taken before. The interior only had two seats in each row, one on either side, with a pair of oversized couches taking up the rear to allow for passengers to sleep if need be. The first few rows were occupied by the security team, all men in their mid-thirties, with body armor and assault rifles laid across their laps. “Don’t you have to check those?” Sylvia asked with a smile, pointing at the guns. All she received in return were stoic looks, their eyes refusing to betray any emotion.

Before she cold say anything more, Mr. Thompson arrived, looking entirely too chipper for such an early flight. He was dressed down, for him at least, wearing a pair of tan chinos with a button-down tucked into the waist. Surprisingly he wore no shoes, opting only for a pair of white socks. He noticed her look and tossed her a wry grin, wiggling his toes in response. “Might as well be comfy, right? I’m happy that you dressed down as well. Come, I’ll introduce you to the team.” Sylvia blushed at the praise, happy that her simple outfit had made the cut.

Mr. Thompson led Sylvia to the rear of the plane, where there was a table, with two commander’s chairs installed on either side. Two seats were already occupied, and he quickly made the introductions to Sylvia. The first gentleman was Darryl Cook, the COO of Briarcliff. Beside him was Okumbe, a native of the Democratic Republic of Congo whose expertise in the area and its inhabitants was key. After the introductions, Darryl continued the conversation from earlier.

“My team has already secured the entire area, but we’re still having issues with insurgent activities in the surrounding towns,” Darryl began.

“You should not be surprised. These warlords have had dominion over the DRC for countless years. It doesn’t matter how much money you give them, they think these lands are rightfully theirs.” Okumbe chimed in.

“I don’t give a shit what they say. They’ve squandered the land and people for the last half century. This project is a chance to turn all of that around and I won’t let them get in the way.” Mr. Thompson’s voice was low, each word dictated perfectly to ensure he was completely understood.

The men all nodded in turn and as the conversation ended, they each got up to tend to their own matters. Mr. Thompson turned to Sylvia, his voice suddenly softer. “I trust you read through the paperwork I sent you?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes sir, I got everything on your list and also read about the project. It’s ... it’s ambitious. Do you really think it’ll work?” Her eyes were bright, the excitement in them undercut by her words of caution.

Mr. Thompson paused for a moment before answering. “It will. Africa has spent far too long being manipulated and exploited by foreign interests. It’s up to us to give them the power to join the rest of the world, on a level playing field.”

Sylvia could detect the pride in his voice, and it excited her. To be close to someone with so much passion was intoxicating and she found herself wanting to help in anyway she could.

The plane took off after only a short taxi to the runway. Once they were in the air, a large map was placed across the table. It showed a five square kilometer area, with contour lines indicating terrain, and landmarks named as needed. There were already several markings on it and as the discussions continued, more appeared. Sylvia watched all of this quietly, her eyes darting from person to person, but in the end always coming back to Mr. Thompson. He led the discussion, his dominance seeping out. Sylvia found her eyes starting to droop, the late nights of days past quickly catching up with her. She awoke a few hours later, curled up on one of the couches, a blanket wrapped around her small frame.

Mr. Thompson stood over her, a goofy smile crossing his handsome face. “You fell asleep, so I carried you over here. We still have a couple hours before we land, though.” She nodded sleepily, stretching languidly as her thoughts wandered. She couldn’t help but think about Mr. Thompson carrying her, being cradled in his strong arms. A sense of security washed over her, and she tugged the blankets tighter, hoping to replicate what she thought it would feel like to be held by him.

Stephen moved around the plane efficiently, stopping to speak with every individual member of the team before returning to the table. Sylvia was curled up in the seat, her head resting on her arms as she dozed. Stephen considered leaving her there for the briefest of moments before changing his mind. He bent over, scooping her up into his arms to carry her to a couch. She quickly settled into his embrace, pushing her chubby cheeks into the crevice between his arm and torso, her shock of curly hair splayed out around her. Stephen’s heart jumped at the sight, and for a moment he considered keeping her there forever.