mercenaries and corrupt governments. It was a boring job, sifting through tons of financial data that had to be meticulously examined, cross-examined and compared with other sources. It sapped her energy, and she missed being in the field.
The best thing about it was the level of information at her disposal. In the wake of increased terrorist threats, the government had introduced a policy that gave intelligence agencies and defence forces extended powers. If a person existed, they had the best chance of finding them.
Looking through his phone book, Bill found Janelle’s number. It was a while since they’d seen each other and he hoped she hadn’t been transferred to another department.
‘Janelle speaking.’
‘Hello, Janelle, it’s Bill, how are you?’
‘Bill? Oh my God, it’s the elusive man of my life! I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’ve you been up to?’
‘I’m okay, still a PI, chasing around married men who can’t keep their willies in their pants.’ Although Bill was being flippant about his work, he couldn’t help memories flooding in. It felt strange talking to someone from the past, especially one from his unit. Janelle had always supported him over the Indonesian incident. The two of them had spent many nights together sifting through a mountain of files over strong coffee. They had shared the same views on many issues, but where Janelle wanted to make changes gradually from the inside, he’d plunged right in, receiving unwanted attention from those higher than him.
‘How’s the job going? Are you keeping them busy?’
‘You know how it is, the Cold War ended and now we have the war on terror. Not much has changed. Shut down a cell here and another crops up over there. They grow like mushrooms, in dark places where the fungus of humanity encroaches.’
‘And they called me the negative one.’
‘Even your favourite managers are around, still brown-nosing in the hope of recovery from political impotence.’
That was one thing Bill didn’t miss: he’d hated the gameplaying and manipulation that went on higher up in the ranks. Unfortunately for him, when he had tried confronting the problem he’d been frogmarched all the way out the door.
‘Janelle, I must admit this is not a catch-up call.’
‘Really? Here I am thinking I’m special. What can I do for you, Bill?’
‘I need you to look something up. I’m doing a job for a guy called Saeed and I need a check on the company he works for.’
‘You know I can’t give you confidential information, Bill. That would be illegal.’
‘Come on, I know you. Janelle doesn’t leave tracks. I just need to know if this company is clean – details aren’t necessary.’
She sighed. ‘What’s it called?’
‘The name is Aust Global Fund and his full name is Saeed Hammoud.’
‘Okay, let me look it up.’ Janelle had a link to the police mainframe and other agencies that collected a range of data. It didn’t take her long to search through it.
‘We don’t have anything,’ she murmured. ‘Apart from a missing persons report for some employee there I can’t find any criminal records on this Saeed guy. Actually, we do have something on a Saeed but it doesn’t show a surname.’ Bill heard the sound of keystrokes before she continued. ‘It’s for a gun-smuggling connection outside of Australia and the case has been shut for years. That’s all I can tell you from this data, only vague entries in here.’ He could hear her striking the keys rapidly as she continued the search.
‘I owe you a pint, Janelle. We should catch up one of these days.’
‘I just might take you up on that offer, Bill. Hope you can afford it.’
Chapter 6
When he was living in the poor districts of Paris, Sam had felt he was neither French nor Algerian. He wasn’t white enough or dark enough to be officially accepted into the racially divided gangs. Because he was forced to fend for himself
The best thing about it was the level of information at her disposal. In the wake of increased terrorist threats, the government had introduced a policy that gave intelligence agencies and defence forces extended powers. If a person existed, they had the best chance of finding them.
Looking through his phone book, Bill found Janelle’s number. It was a while since they’d seen each other and he hoped she hadn’t been transferred to another department.
‘Janelle speaking.’
‘Hello, Janelle, it’s Bill, how are you?’
‘Bill? Oh my God, it’s the elusive man of my life! I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’ve you been up to?’
‘I’m okay, still a PI, chasing around married men who can’t keep their willies in their pants.’ Although Bill was being flippant about his work, he couldn’t help memories flooding in. It felt strange talking to someone from the past, especially one from his unit. Janelle had always supported him over the Indonesian incident. The two of them had spent many nights together sifting through a mountain of files over strong coffee. They had shared the same views on many issues, but where Janelle wanted to make changes gradually from the inside, he’d plunged right in, receiving unwanted attention from those higher than him.
‘How’s the job going? Are you keeping them busy?’
‘You know how it is, the Cold War ended and now we have the war on terror. Not much has changed. Shut down a cell here and another crops up over there. They grow like mushrooms, in dark places where the fungus of humanity encroaches.’
‘And they called me the negative one.’
‘Even your favourite managers are around, still brown-nosing in the hope of recovery from political impotence.’
That was one thing Bill didn’t miss: he’d hated the gameplaying and manipulation that went on higher up in the ranks. Unfortunately for him, when he had tried confronting the problem he’d been frogmarched all the way out the door.
‘Janelle, I must admit this is not a catch-up call.’
‘Really? Here I am thinking I’m special. What can I do for you, Bill?’
‘I need you to look something up. I’m doing a job for a guy called Saeed and I need a check on the company he works for.’
‘You know I can’t give you confidential information, Bill. That would be illegal.’
‘Come on, I know you. Janelle doesn’t leave tracks. I just need to know if this company is clean – details aren’t necessary.’
She sighed. ‘What’s it called?’
‘The name is Aust Global Fund and his full name is Saeed Hammoud.’
‘Okay, let me look it up.’ Janelle had a link to the police mainframe and other agencies that collected a range of data. It didn’t take her long to search through it.
‘We don’t have anything,’ she murmured. ‘Apart from a missing persons report for some employee there I can’t find any criminal records on this Saeed guy. Actually, we do have something on a Saeed but it doesn’t show a surname.’ Bill heard the sound of keystrokes before she continued. ‘It’s for a gun-smuggling connection outside of Australia and the case has been shut for years. That’s all I can tell you from this data, only vague entries in here.’ He could hear her striking the keys rapidly as she continued the search.
‘I owe you a pint, Janelle. We should catch up one of these days.’
‘I just might take you up on that offer, Bill. Hope you can afford it.’
Chapter 6
When he was living in the poor districts of Paris, Sam had felt he was neither French nor Algerian. He wasn’t white enough or dark enough to be officially accepted into the racially divided gangs. Because he was forced to fend for himself
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