Free Origin - Season Two by Nathaniel Dean James

threaten to reveal their complicity to the media. But for now we need to keep silent.”
    “You can count on me, dear leader.”
    “Good.”
    Rhee didn’t move. It took the despot a moment to understand why. “You may go, General.”
    “Thank you, dear leader,” Rhee said, then saluted again and quickly left the room.
    Rhee’s driver was waiting for him by the car. He opened the door as soon as he saw the general, but Rhee passed him and kept walking. When he reached the guardhouse at the entrance to the estate he shouted at the soldier on duty to get him an outside line.
    “This is General Seo-jun Rhee. I wish to speak to the minister right away.”
    A moment later the raspy voice of a much older man said, “General, what can I do for you?”
    “Actually,” Rhee said, “I was hoping we might speak in person.”
    There was a long pause. “Is that really necessary?”
    “There is something I would like you to see.”
    “Then perhaps you’ll join me for a drink this evening?”
    “I would be honored,” Rhee said.

Chapter 13
    Dubai
    Saturday 9 June 2007
    1600 GST
    Francis looked up at the cloudless sky and cursed the heat. Even at this late hour of the afternoon the sun appeared to have no intention of relinquishing its dominion over the desert kingdom.
    He had managed to make his way up to the roof of the building using the fire escape, although his first attempt had very nearly become his last when a security patrol came close to spotting him. Now, lying flat on his stomach to avoid being seen, he listened as the patrol car made yet another round. When it was gone he raised himself up again and peered over the edge.
    The only good thing he could say about the ship was that it was still there. In every other way it presented only problems. For one, it was too big to easily board at sea. Being a dry bulk carrier, it also provided very little cover for such an attempt, assuming there was any way they could even try. To make matters worse, Francis had already counted three armed men patrolling the deck.
    Francis spotted the patrol car returning and ducked just as his phone began to ring. “Where the hell are you? I’m literally baking up here.”
    “Actually,” Titov said, “I’m outside the Chinese consulate. Looks like you were right again.”
    “Then get back here as fast as you can. And be careful, there’s a security patrol covering the perimeter road. Call me back when you leave the highway.”
    By the time Titov called Francis was beginning to feel the onset of sunstroke. He had considered getting off the roof and finding some shade, but every time he made up his mind to get going the damn patrol car was there again.
    Francis crawled to the fire escape. He spotted the Porsche and began to climb down. Titov was less than ten yards away when the security patrol pulled out behind him. When Francis peered around the corner both cars had stopped and the guards were already getting out. One of them was talking on his phone.
    Francis stepped into the road, raised his arms and began waving them frantically. “No, no, no, we don’t have time for this.”
    The guard walking toward Titov stopped and lowered his hand to the holster on his belt.
    “I have a meeting to get to,” Francis shouted. “This is my driver. We need to leave right away.”
    The guard clearly didn’t understand. He turned to his colleague and said something in Arabic. The other guard ended his call and came over. “What is going on here?”
    “This is my driver,” Francis said. “He’s here to pick me up.”
    “And you are?” the guard said.
    “Mathew Landen.” Francis handed over his passport. “I’m an insurance broker.”
    The guard studied the passport, then handed it to his colleague. “And may I ask what business you have in Dubai?”
    “I’m here to conduct insurance assessments,” Francis said. “Now I have a meeting in twenty minutes, so if you don’t mind we need to get going.”
    “A meeting with who,