Chapter 522

I woke up when I heard the landing gear lock down. We were landing at an off-the-way strip in Cameroon to refuel and layover for the night. The idea at this stop was for the plane to be seen.

Sunday morning we flew to Rabat Morocco to refuel - to be seen - and then on to Caracas Venezuela - again to be seen. The Crown Prince had terrorist contacts there so a landing would not be out of the way when the powers started checking his email, if they found them. I was trying to make it look like the cartel was involved.

Monday I donned the burqa and getup again as the plane landed at the remote Atlantic banking island at noon. Burt had sent a text that everything was ready for me to pick up.

The pilot called a cab to come to the plane to pick us up. Abra, Ziva, Andy and Bill were going to the Island bank with me.

We were met in the lobby by Alfred Drake. Apparently, few wealthy clients actually made the trip to the island, depending totally on electronic banking.

“Ma-am may I ask your name and business with the bank?” he said.

I went through my name in Arabic then for good measure in broken English.

“I am Crown Princess Fayza al-Zahab. I am here to receive my withdrawal bonds. I am told they would be ready,” I replied.

“Yes they are ready; your treasury official was thorough. Everything was completed as he instructed.”

Ed and Bill each had a fancy leather business case with the Kingdoms seal inlayed in gold on them from a storage locker in the plane. They opened the cases on the counter.

“Do you wish to count the documents?” Alfred asked.

“No, if there is a problem someone from the King’s treasury will come and extract the variance in blood. You are the one who needs to make sure they are correct,” I replied.

“I can assure you they are correct. They are banded in lots of one hundred and we have counted them several times,” Alfred replied as he began putting the bonds in the two cases. I signed a scribble with my left hand; folded the paper and placed it in the case without bothering to read it.

From the island the plane was flown to a short remote strip of blacktop in La Jarita Mexico, twenty miles south of Laredo. This was one of those strips used by the cartels. It was nearly dark when we touched down. Ed and team 4 were waiting for us in four wheel drive SUVs.

After transferring everything, the pilot full throttled the jet and short hopped it off the end of the runway several hundred feet into the sand and gravel. That gave the appearance that the pilot had botched either the landing or takeoff.

Howie placed several incendiary charges at important places in the plane; one was right at the junction of all the fuel lines. We were five miles away when we saw flames in the night from that direction. With the circuit breakers tripped on the fire suppression system, the multimillion dollar plane would be a pile of melted aluminum in a matter of minutes.

We went through the border crossing with no problem and drove to Laredo General Aviation airport where my G5 was waiting with another of our pilots - who did the CIA flights - at the controls to take us to Morton.

I had faith that the CIA approved pilots knew how to keep their mouths shut. Just to make sure, Lorrie had ordered that there were to be no entries in the plane or pilot logs. It would be early morning Tuesday when we landed. I had two more Buds and went back to sleep. I slept until the tires touched the runway.

All the airport security cameras went offline as my G5 approached. I wanted no visual records of anything we off loaded. We had left the Russian guns in the belly of the Prince’s plane to be burnt.

I sent all the men home for two weeks of rest and recovery and to clean up. I went home with my mates; all of them were waiting as I got off the plane. Behind closed doors we made up for being apart. The boys seemed as glad to see me as the girls.

I needed the time to unwind, clear my head and put the things I had done into deep memory. Several large cups of coffee and time with my family did the trick; after all, the bastard had tried to kill me four times. He deserved what he got four times over.

After a quiet lunch we went over to the office via the tunnel. I carried the two fancy leather cases. In my office they went into safe without opening.

After a better job of labeling, the three mason jars joined the others. A thought flickered in my mind, a note to all men; never piss off a lady with a knife and a gun and an attitude. I wondered if I should have that made into a poster and put on my wall.

The jet carrying team 3 and the rest of the loot was in the pattern at Morton. I had Lorrie order it pushed into the hangar and locked down; we would go after dark and remove the valuables from the cargo hold.

It was almost 1600 when the crap hit the fan. ZNN as well as every major station was carrying the news.

BREAKING NEWS FROM POLOKWANE SOUTH AFRICA “Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab - the second in line to be king of Saudi Arabia - Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan- a reported middle Eastern arms dealer with all body guards - were killed by ISIS terrorists in South Africa. The beheaded bodies were covered with ISIS flags.”