Legacy. Jeff Edwards

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      Bree decided to take a different tack. ‘What would you do to fix it up?’ she asked the girl.

      ‘It wouldn’t take too much. Just a little work. You need to define your aims a bit better and then to put it all in writing. Get posters that reflect your aims. Sell yourselves to the public. You’ll never get donations the way you’re going. The logo is a great start though. I’ll give you points for that. It’s brilliant. Now you have to work on that theme.’

      ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to help us out? My partner and I have to go overseas today to attend a conference in Africa. We’ll be back in about a week. If you bring your ideas back to us then, we’ll be able to go over them.’

      The girl’s face lit up. ‘You’d let me do that? Greenpeace never let me do more than post out requests for donations. I’d love to help you. I know just what you need around here. It will be just brilliant.’

      Bree ushered the girl towards the door. ‘Well, the sooner you get started the better. We’ll see you, and your work, in a week’s time.’

      The couple had left and Bree finally managed to get the girl far enough out the door for Sam to close and lock it. The girl turned away, disappointed that she couldn’t discuss her ideas further.

      Bree and Sam headed quickly upstairs, grabbed their flight bags and headed out the back door, from where they took Bree’s car to the airport.

      Chapter Ten

      Prayers had finished. The men stood and filed out of the mosque. Outside, they collected their shoes and gathered in small relaxed groups to talk before moving off and returning to their jobs.

      Yashmar El Kalil watched from a distance as Ali Akuba returned to his taxi and drove away.

      Ali Akuba worried Yashmar El Kalil. Unexplained money always worried El Kalil and unexplained money this close to El Kalil’s operational base worried him very, very much.

      El Kalil’s people saw him as a freedom fighter but the Americans called him a terrorist. To El Kalil, however, it was only the opinions of his own people that mattered. He was a charismatic leader who drew in men, and the occasional woman, and turned them into dedicated fighters, totally willing to die for the greater good. He was successful because he knew what was going on around him. Ever vigilant, there was nothing too small for him to overlook.

      Selected from among the young men of the refugee camp in Palestine, he trained long and hard at his profession. Organising several successful assassinations had cemented his fame and young men flocked to him, willing to carry his bombs into the heart of the enemy’s cities, detonating them with devastating effect among its citizens.

      El Kalil’s suspicions of those around him had alerted him to the possibility of his cell being infiltrated, allowing him to escape moments before the Mossad attack. Forced to flee, he had entered Britain using one of his many false identities.

      It took him little time to establish himself in the local community, where he now commanded a small, but effective, cell of agents. All was in place for them to start operations. El Kalil was just waiting for instructions from the old men.

      Still, El Kalil was troubled by Ali Akuba’s new found wealth. The Nigerian had worked as a taxi driver for years, always the back-up driver for some other taxi owner. Never making more than enough to support his family. They were not destitute, but neither were they well-to-do.

      Suddenly, the men at the mosque had congratulated Akuba on his purchase of a taxi licence and taxi. Now he worked for himself and hired others to drive for him.

      No one knew where the money had come from. Akuba didn’t say. The man didn’t gamble and he had shown no sign of having any relatives or friends substantial enough to have loaned him the money, or rich enough to have left it to him in a will.

      El Kalil’s cell had checked with friends in Akuba’s bank. He had not borrowed the money from any source that they could determine.

      That left Akuba performing some sort of illegal activity or, as El Kalil feared, Akuba had received the money from selling information and the sort of information that would bring in sufficient money to buy a licence, would have to be important. Like the location of a terrorist cell, possibly his cell.

      If Akuba was selling information, he had to be eliminated. Quickly. If, on the other hand, he were up to something illegal to earn the money, it would be good for El Kalil to know what that activity was. With such information he could blackmail Akuba into supplying much needed funds to his cell.

      El Kalil decided Akuba should be put to the test.

      Two young men he knew were selected. They were expendable because they had expressed a wish to join the cell, but had yet to be accepted. They knew nothing, and could reveal nothing, if arrested.

      They were instructed to take a ride in Akuba’s cab. During their trip, they were told to discuss a ‘mission’ they were to take part in, giving the time and place it was supposedly due to take place.

      El Kalil and his men waited out of sight, observing the ‘mission’ site. Nothing happened at the time given. Akuba had not passed the information on to the authorities.

      ‘It looks like our friend is doing something else to make money,’ he thought to himself.

      Members of his cell followed Akuba as best they could and talked to his neighbours and friends. None of them had any idea where Akuba’s new found wealth had come from and it did not appear he was doing anything out of the ordinary.

      El Kalil was frustrated. Something was happening yet Akuba continued to act with utter normality.

      They would continue to keep a close watch on the man.

      Chapter Eleven

      Mrs Green waited until she saw Brian leave the office and drive off. With Toby and Suzie in London, she was alone in the gallery. She locked up and climbed the stairs to the office of Grant & Associates, where she asked the receptionist if she could talk to Brian’s assistant, solicitor Mark Scott.

      Mark welcomed her warmly, before escorting her into his office. They had known each other since he and Ellen had helped Brian and Lana move into their house.

      ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Green?’ he smiled.

      ‘I want you to do some work for me, but it has to be very confidential. I’d prefer it if Brian didn’t find out about it.’

      Mark moved in his chair as he absorbed what Mrs Green was saying.

      ‘I know how that sounds Mark, but it’s just that I want to keep what I’m doing secret for the moment. I want to surprise everyone later.’

      Feeling better about her request, he asked: ‘What is it that you want to do?’

      ‘I need to conduct some confidential business and I don’t want my name to be connected with it.’

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