Chapter 10

International airport of Nairobi.

Rebecca has just passed the police check and is waiting for her luggage.

“Good evening, Miss Johnson. Did you have a good trip?”

Surprised, Rebecca turns around. A man of color, very tall and elegantly dressed, holds out his hand.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jason Wallace and I am the executive director of White Inc”., he continues, showing her some papers.

“I extend a warm welcome to you on behalf of the company.”

Rebecca, somewhat surprised by this welcome, extends her hand to him in turn; unexpectedly, he kisses her hand reverently.

“The car is waiting for us. Don’t worry about your luggage. We take care of everything”, the man continues, like a man used to giving orders.

“Oh, you are very kind”, she manages to say.

A flashy limo waits outside. A driver in an impeccable uniform opens the door for her.

“Would you like something to drink, Miss Johnson?” The man courteously offers her.

“No thanks. I’m pretty tired and I wouldn’t want...”

“A cup of tea or coffee”, he insists?

“Very well ... A coffee, thank you”.

The limousine travels through the plantations and small overcrowded hamlets that surround Nairobi. Rebecca feels overwhelmed by the curious impression of well-being with which Africa welcomes its visitors. The blue sky, the red earth, the smells...

“I’m sorry to have to give you bad news, Miss Johnson,” said the man, presenting her with the coffee in what appears to be an expensive old porcelain cup.” Our CEO, Mr. MM, had to leave without notice ... It was so fast that we could not warn you.”

Rebecca squirms in her seat.

“Nonetheless,” Jason continues, “it will be a great pleasure for me to take care of you and answer your questions...”

“This is not acceptable, Mr. Wallace,” she said at last, barely concealing her anger.

“Believe me, I am very sorry, Miss Johnson, but the president is not in Nairobi.”

“When is he coming back?, she asks, putting down her cup irritably.

“Not before two weeks...”

“But... !”. Rebecca is exhausted. She had her story and Gary in her clutches and now...

“Wasn’t it possible to delay his departure for a few hours? She asks in vain.

.”Believe me, I’m so sorry...”,. is Jason’s only response. The limousine is caught in a huge traffic jam that is very common on the way to central Nairobi. Inside, the silence that continues is more and more tense. Rebecca, seeing that everything is ruined, decides to risk it all:

“Mr. Wallace, don’t take this for rudeness on my part, but I want to speak to Mr. MM.”

The young woman’s tone is friendly again.

“I hope you understand me ... I was supposed to do an in-depth interview, about the man, and not just a financial report.”

“I understand and I’m sorry, Miss Johnson.”

Jason leaves the initiative to the young woman.

“Is it possible? I mean ... would it be possible to do the interview where he is?”

For the first time, Rebecca looks him openly in the eye, with a big smile on her lips.

“I’m afraid, Miss Johnson, that it will be really difficult. The president is in a confidential meeting with the major shareholders.”

Jason is a professional, very diplomatic, with no particular accent.

“In addition, this meeting is being held several hours flight from Nairobi”.

“Please, Mr. Wallace. Her son, Ben promised me...”

She takes her gaze away from the man.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to learn that...”

.”Miss Johnson, Jason interrupts quickly, I think your idea is probably the best.”

He takes the phone decisively. “Wallace on the phone. Send an urgent cable asking permission for Miss Johnson to go to the Coconut Grove to interview MM.”

Rebecca’s eyes start to shine.

“I hope you don’t have too much trouble going over there,” said the man, taking her answer for granted.

“You can’t imagine how grateful I am to you...”, the young woman answers, smiling again.

“By the way, where is it?” The phone interrupts her.

“Wallace on the phone.” Silence ensues.

“Perfect. Load Miss Johnson’s luggage, we’re coming back to the airport right away.”

He gives brief, binding orders, like a man accustomed to responsibility.

“Congratulations, Miss Johnson. It’s arranged. Luckily, a company plane is ready to go there. The president will meet you at breakfast, Sydney time...

“But ... I have to call...”, adds Rebecca, overwhelmed by the speed of events, while the car, blowing a siren, turns around and rushes at full speed towards the airport.

“We have no time to waste. We have an air traffic control take-off slot and we cannot use the car phone for international calls. You can call as much as you want on the plane...”