Dangerous Deception - A Short Story (2 page)

Tom greeted her with a warm handshake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gwen.”

Evelyn welcomed her with a hug, and Celeste merely nodded before returning her attention to the paperback book she was reading.

“Take a seat anywhere,” Jack said before disappearing into the cockpit.

Gwen chose the seat closest to Evelyn.
After a quick glance at the luxurious surroundings, she turned to the silver haired woman. “I’ve never flown on anything as nice as this,” she admitted nervously. She had never liked flying. “Most of the planes I’ve been on, aside from airliners, were rickety prop jobs. The kind where you never know if the landing gear is going to hold or not.”

T
he woman reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Marco is an excellent pilot. You’ve nothing to worry about, the good Lord is watching over us.”

A tinge of guilt hit her and she suddenly wished she had been more honest with her host.

“Has Jack told you anything about the purpose of our trip?”
Tom asked.

“No.
We didn’t really have a chance to talk.”

“We’re delivering Christmas gifts to the children in
Lerato. Our organization has a small orphanage there, and for the past six months partnership churches from across the U.S. have collected clothing and toys for us to distribute.”

“We’re also going to look at some property to be purchased for a bigger orphanage and vocational school that Jack is financing,” Evelyn added.

“I can’t think of a more wonderful way of celebrating the birth of our Savior.”

Gwen merely smiled.

“Your family must be awfully disappointed you won’t be with them for the holidays?”

“I’m afraid they’re use to it
, sir.” Gwen hadn’t seen her family since she moved to London. If it weren’t for the weekly telephone calls they’d probably think she was dead.

“Please, call me, Tom.
I know it won’t be the same, but you’re welcome to join us in all the festivities we have planned.”

“Thank you
. I’d like that.” Gwen glanced up at their other guest who seemed engrossed in the book she was reading. She had yet to speak a word to them. “Is she a part of your organization?”

“No.
Her sister, Candice, who is a nurse in one of the refugee camps, is a member of our church back home. Celeste came along to try and talk her sister into coming home with us. Except for embassy personnel and a handful of missionaries and aid workers, non-civilians have been evacuated due to the instability of the country.”

“Then you do realize we’re entering a very volatile situation?”

“Yes. But we’re confident the Lord will take care of us.”

Gwen admired their faith.
There was a time, not so long ago she could have used their faith. Had she been able to trust in an all-powerful God, maybe she wouldn’t have fallen apart in Liberia.

Her smile
faded at the image of a young boy’s bloodied corpse who only moments earlier had been running and playing with his friends in the compound. His screams still echoed in the back of her mind.

Forcing the memory aside
, she stood. “I think I’ll go see if I can find something to drink. Can I get you guys anything?”

“No
, thank you,” they spoke in unison.

Gwen found a cola in the refrigerator and was about to take a seat on the sofa when Jack joined her.
“I see you found the refreshments.”

“Yes, thank you.
This is quite a plane you have here. I think it’s bigger than my entire apartment back in London.”

“Actually
, I’m only leasing it. We’ll be dropped off at Lerato and in a couple of weeks they’ll come back to get us.”

“As long as they don’t forget to come back.”

“They won’t. So did you have a chance to get acquainted with the others?”

“Celeste wasn’t in a talkative mood, but Tom & Evelyn seem real nice.”

“Tom’s a pastor and Evelyn is a registered nurse. They’re both very spiritual people.”

“I sensed that.
Look, I have to be honest with you…I didn’t come along just to do a story on your organization. I mean I want to do that, but...”

“I know
, Gwen. You came because you want a story on the RFAGC. I sort of figured that out already. According to my sources you used to be an investigative reporter.”

“You had me checked out?”
Not really that surprised. She had gathered from their first meeting he was a well-organized man on a mission.

Jack nodded.
“This trip was my idea, so I’m responsible for the welfare of everyone on it. I suspected from the start your friend Mr. Garrison wasn’t being completely honest with me.”

“I can imagine the sales pitch.
He can be very persuasive.”

“Actually
, he brought up some very good points. With everything going on in other regions of the world, very little attention is being given to the conflict in Dewana.”

“We can change that, Jack.
I still want to do the story on your organization. I think what you guys are doing is great. I just want to go beyond what you’re doing to the source of the problem. I want to report the whole story, not just a part of it.”

“I know what you’re trying to do
, Gwen, you’re trying to find a solution where there is none. At least not a simple one. War and poverty is all these people have ever known, much like most of Africa.”

“You think I’m naïve
?”

“
Maybe for an investigative reporter,” he answered with a smile.

“I’ve seen too much to be naïve, especially when it comes to war.
All I want to do is expose the pigs that are supporting the rebels. Countries like Liberia for instance. I want the whole world to know of the atrocities that are taking place. With global awareness comes global aid.”

“You think
Liberia is financing the rebels. Why?”

“Partly
because Chidike and Kanneh have supported one another for years, their friendship goes way back. And Kanneh reportedly helped broker a deal with the governments in neighboring countries on behalf of the RFAGC for the supply of mercenaries, with payment to be made in Dewana diamonds.”

“How do you know this?”

“I spent fourteen months in Liberia trying to expose Kanneh for the war crimes he committed while seizing his presidency. Six of those months were spent in a village filled with ex-RFAGC rebels who gave eyewitness reports of how diamonds were being mined and traded for arms supplied by the government of Liberia.”

“Did you report any of this to the U.S. Embassy or the UN?”

“Before we could get any real proof we were forced to evacuate.”

He pondered her proposal several minutes
. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said, “I’ll go along with you doing your story as long as there’s no danger to the others. Like I said, I’m responsible for everyone on this trip, including you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you probably can, but I won’t have the others at risk.”

“They won’t be,” she promised.

As he made his way toward the front of the plane to join the others, she stretched out on the sofa, continuing to keep her eyes on him. He was a handsome man. His dark locks of hair brought out the strong features of his face, from his narrow jaw line and clef in his chin, to perfectly groomed eyebrows and emerald eyes.

Dressed in blue jeans, a white polo shirt
, and cowboy boots, he seemed much too casual for a businessman. His appearance made her question if he was a self-made man or a trust fund baby who hadn’t grown up yet. Either way, he seemed to have an air about him that would make anyone take notice, including someone nursing a broken heart.

Michael had been the love of her life, or so she thought.
It wasn’t until she’d gotten to know the real man behind the image that she realized the horrible mistake she’d made. Both ambitious by nature, it wasn’t until she saw herself through his eyes that she hated the person she was turning into.

Their assignment in Liberia had been an awakening to her in more ways than one.
She had seen Michael for who he really was: a bloodthirsty shark that would do anything, or screw over anyone, to get a story. Afterwards, she had come to the decision she would do anything to prevent the same thing happening to her. Dewana was her restitution. She figured if she could document the atrocities and inform the world of what was taking place there the UN would be pressured to intervene. If not, countless more lives would be lost at the hands of two ruthless men who cared only about their own futures and the vast fortune they could acquire by stealing Dewana’s mineral resources.

Chapter Three

Gwen managed a couple of hours sleep before Jack announced they would be landing soon.
Glancing out the oval window above the sofa, she could barely make out the lights along the coastline.

Dewana
was divided into four regions. Lerato, the capitol city, was located in the Western part of the country boarded by the Atlantic Ocean.

After landing at
the Airport in Lerato, the group was met by a young couple in their mid-twenties. They introduced themselves as Robbie and Kay Harrison, missionaries with the World Friendship Foundation. They were then led to an old white extended van.

T
he couple talked nonstop as they gave a brief tour of the city. Judging from the lively nightlife along the main streets where several clubs were located, you would never know a war raged only miles away.

“We’re so excited about the new project.
I can’t begin to tell you how badly it is needed,” Kay commented as she held Evelyn’s hand across the isle from her.

“Are you talking about the orphanage?” Gwen queried.

Kay nodded. “Along with new training workshops for young adults, so they can become self-sufficient.”

“Incase you haven’t been warned, it isn’t advisable to travel outside the city limits.
Pockets of rebel forces are scattered throughout the country,” Rob advised, glancing over his shoulder.

“How long have you two been here?” Gwen asked.

“Going on two years,” Kay answered. “We first came over with our church’s youth group in high school. We fell in love with the place immediately. People are so friendly.”

“Are you getting a lot of refugees to the area?”

“Oh yes, from as far away as Chizoba. The destruction in that area is unimaginable.”

Gwen fell silent.
Some of the contacts she had made in Liberia had been from the area of Chizoba. They’d spoken of unspeakable crimes: widespread deliberate and arbitrary killings of civilians, torture, including rape and deliberate amputation of limbs, and abduction and forced recruitment of large numbers of people, including children. Survivors of some of the worst human rights abuses known to man, they had sought refuge in the small village of Kirabo, only to be massacred months later when the RFAGC rebels learned they had been talking to reporters.

A short while later they
stopped in front of a large three-story cement structure enclosed by a 7-foot wall with matching yellow paint, and it was announced they had arrived at their destination.

Gathering her backpack
, she scrambled out of the van behind the others and followed them to a large wooden gate. Inside the courtyard, there was a large cooking pit with stacks of wood positioned nearby and several metal chairs scattered throughout the yard. Following them up the walkway they came to a large metal door and were met by an elderly gentleman wearing tattered khaki pants and a bright red shirt.

“This is Omar, he is our groundskeeper and jack-of-all-trades,” Robbie informed as the old man held the door open for them.
“The bottom two floors are designated living quarters for our orphans, along with a kitchen and dining area on the first floor. Our living quarters are located on the top floor. There are two apartments, each containing two bedrooms, kitchens, and living areas. We did some shopping at the market earlier to stock your kitchen, but if there’s something else you want just let Omar or myself know and we can pick them up for you.”

“How many children do you have at the present time?” Celeste asked.

Shocked, Gwen glanced up at the woman. It was the first time she had spoken.

As if sensing her surprise, Jack snickered.

“We have twenty-eight, many three to a room. It’s a bit cramped, but at least they are off the street, and they don’t seem to mind.”

“Do they attend school?”

“At the present time most of the schools are closed down, but Kay works with those who were lucky enough to have attended in the past.”

“Most
parents can’t afford to send their children to school which is why the illiteracy rate is so high,” Jack told them.

Gwen heard giggles and turned to look behind her.
She caught a glimpse of two little black heads before they disappeared behind a closed door.