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 Andrew Watson

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ISBN-13: 978·1·4240-4891 ·5
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Pri11ted in tbe United States of An1erica

2 3 4 5 6 7 - 14 13 12 11
 Contents

People in the story ............................................................... ... ................. 3

Chapter 1 Tl1.e man in the park ...................................................... 4
• • f or th e news ....................................................
Chapter 2 Wa1t1ng 8
Chapter 3 The interview ................................................................... . 17
Chapter 4 The begin11ing of the e11d? ......................................... . 23
Chapter 5 NL) escape ...................... ··--··· ................................................. . 28
Chapter 6 Wl1y me? ............................................................................. 33
Chapter 7 Tl1e truth ........................................................................... . 38
Chapter 8 Calling for help ............................................................. .. 45
Chapter 9 The story of a lifeti1ne ................................................ . 49
Chapter 10 Run and hide .......................................................................... . 55
Chapter 11 Time to die .......................................................................... . 62
Chapter 12 Rescued? ................................................................................ . 66
Chapter 13 Hunting for evidence .................................................... .. 73
Chapter 14 vValking into danger .................................................... . 79
Chapter 15 Out of the darkness ...................................................... 86
Chapter 16 Ru11 ning from b1-1 Ilets ................................................. . 92
Chapter 17 An empty victory .................................. ....................... . 97
Chapter 18 Forced to give L1p ............................................................. .. 103
Chapter 19 The final broadcast ......................................................... 109
Chapter 20 Trutl1 and justice ............................................................... 117

Review
Chapters 1-7 .............................................................................................. 124
Chapters 8-14 ............................................................................................. . 126
Chapters 15-20 .............................................................................................. 128
A11swer Key ....................................................................................................... . 130

Background Reading
Spotlight on... Investigative Joumalism ...................................... 13]
Spotlight on... The International Ar1ns Ind11stry ................... 133
Spotlight on ... Oil in Africa ................................................................ l35
Glossary ............................................................................................................. 137
.....
 People in the story

Peter Booker Sarah Fulton

a senior news journalist at also a senior journalist at
The Enquirer newspaper in Trze Enquirer and, until
London recently, Pete's girlfriend

David Strauss Paula Jansen

the senior editor at a senior member of MI6,
The Enquirer and Pete and Britain's secret intelligence
.
Sarah's boss service

Sir James Boyd

the wealthy new ow11er of
The Enqitirer

The story takes place i11 London, in England.

3
 Chapter l

The man in the park

I was approaching Brompton Cemetery's north gate when
the man suddenly appeared. His legs were shaking as he
walked out of the thick bushes and past the gravestones.
He looked terrible, as if he had been sleeping on the streets
for days; his clothes were dirty, his hair was a mess, and he
badly needed a shave.
It was half past seven in the morning, and I was hurryi11g
to work. That meant I would have to walk past him; my
bus stopped just beyond the gate. And I felt sure he was
going to ask me for money.
Normally, Brompton Cemetery is peaceful; the high walls
keep out the noise of the London traffic. The park is huge,
over forty acres, and covered in trees and bushes. Because
there are no high buildings, it feels more like the country
than the city; it's full of birds and butterflies, and it's
common to see animals like squirrels and even foxes
playing in the grass around the graves. There's a small
church in the middle and long paths leading to the gates in
every corner.
I could see that he was going to try to speak to me. As we
came closer, I looked away and tried to walk around him.
But before I could get past, the man fell into my arms.
I couldn't catch l1im properly; I had my briefcase in one
hand and a large, plastic bag with Sarah's birthday present
in the other. It was a rose plant for her garden, and pink,

4
her favorite color. Although she had ended our relationship
two weeks before, I had bought her the rose anyway. I
wasn't sure if it was the right thing to give her, and I knew
it wouldn't make her change her mind. But after four years
together, I had to get her something.
The weight of the man's body made me step back, but he
held on to me tightly. He smelled of sweat. I noticed that his
face was brown, probably from living outside through the
summer, and there was something in hjs eyes tl1at shocked
me. He looked like he had just woken fron1 a nightmare.
''Please!'' he said, and his voice was so weak it was like a
sigh. ''Help me!"
Disgt1sted, I pushed him away. It wasn't a hard push, but he
fell and landed on his back on the grass beside the path. He
was hardly moving. His hair was wet with sweat and he
was trying to say something.
I wanted to continue to the bus stop. I had to get to work-
after all, there was a chance it would be the most important
day of my career.
But it was obvious that the man needed a doctor. I
paused, wondering what to do. I was beginning to feel
very uncomfortable.
I looked around. A couple jogged slowly past listening to
music. Up al1ead, an old woman was walking her dog. One
man wandered along the path, talking into his cell phone;
another man with long black hair appeared from a.round a
corner, beyond the bushes, walking away witl1 a newspaper
in his hand.
The man was still lying on the ground. His lips were
moving, but he was making no sound. I hesitated. My bus
stop was less than thirty meters away, and I had no time to

5
J
waste. But the man clearly needed help. Unwillingly, I
started to bend down toward him. And then I saw my bus
at the end of the street. If I missed that, it would be at least
another ten minutes until the next one arrived.
''I'm sorry," I said, and I ran toward the bus stop, leaving
the man lying on the grass. Besides, there were plenty of
other people around. I didn't really need to get involved. If
the man needed help, I knew that someone else would soon
find l1im.
Within minutes, I was sitting on the bus and thinking again
about the day's big announcement. As I looked out the
window at the busy streets of central London, I had already
forgotten all about the man in the park.

7
 Chapter 2

Waiting for the news

''Here it is, everyone," shouted David, our boss, as I ran into
the building. ''The Enquirer's new TV studio!''
We had been waiting for tl1is moment for two months. I
hurried to join the group at the studio door. At last we were
going to discover exactly what our new roles would be.
Ever since the new owner of The Enquirer newspaper, the
super rich British businessman Sir James Boyd, had
announced his decision to launch a live international TV
news channel, we had been waiting for this announcement.
I forced myself to breathe slowly. I was one of the favorites
for the m.ost important job: principal news presenter.
Whoever got it would become one of the most important
people in the industry. It meant security, a great income
and, perhaps most importantly, far more editorial control.
''Before I announce your new positions," said David with a
smile, ''let me show you around your new work place. As
you can see, the studio is a very good size, and very
adaptable. There's space for an audience of one hundred
and twenty . . ."
That was typical of David. He knew we all wanted to hear
the annou11cement. But he liked to keep secrets to himself
for as long as possible. We had no choice but to follow him
around the studio.
''As you would expect," he said, stepping up onto the stage,
"the lighting can be used in many different ways. It can

8
light up the displays, and can automatically follow the
presenters around the stage . . ."
As David spoke, I noticed Sarah standi11g opposite. Four years
ago, when we first met, she was a researcher, and one of the
best. Now she was likely to be Tl1e Enquirer's new TV
producer. And although she was officially no longer my
girlfrien.d, as I looked at her I couldn't help feeling proud.
Because it was her birthday as well as the day of the big
announcement, she had obviously made an effort to look
nice. Her long, brown l1air was pulled back off her face
with a ribbon, and she was wearing a stylish suit that I
didn't recognize. She looked good. But then she always
looked good.
''Behind the presenters," said David, still talking, "are
floor-to-ceiling screens for showing the usual films or
charts. They're the best that money can b11y, and show
beautifully clear pictures . .."
I tried to concentrate on David's tour. After years of hard
work, I was desperate for the presenter job. As far as I
knew, there was only one other person being considered, a
journalist at a different newspaper. So for the last two
months I had done all I could to prove to Sir James that I
was the best person. Once I'd gotten the job, then I'd do
whatever was necessary to win Sarah back. But for just one
1nore day, I had to focus on work. I couldn't let my attention
wander to other things. Somehow I had to ignore the rush
of feeling every time I saw her. I had to be professional.
''These cameras," David continued, pointing at the three
machines standing ready by the stage, "are the best that
money can buy. They can be operated traditionally, by a
cameraman, or remotely from the control room. And
whatever you see on their screen is automatically recorded

9
 to the hard drive of the co1nputer. That means that all
material is instantly available for editil1g."
''Automatic recording to hard drive," Sarah commented.
"That's new!''
David turned to a large computer beside the stage. "The
processors i11 this machine are amazing! They're very,
very powerful. They not only allow us to present our
stories exactly the way we want them, but tl1ey can also
control every inch of this space, from security access to
studio temperature."
''Right," said David, turning to face us again. My heart
jumped. At last, I thought he was going to announce our
new roles. Instead, he just pointed to the back of the studio.
''Let's go and see the place fro111 where we control tl1is
computer-my favorite part! Follow me!''
The control room would be David's new office. The door
was thick and, like the walls, was covered in material to
soften the sound of his voice. He had to be able to gi,re
orders without disturbing the recordi11g on stage.
As I approached to follow David inside, I found myself
beside Sarah. I stepped back to let her go through the door
first. At the same time, she stepped back for me.
''After yot1,'' I said.
"Thanks," she smiled, and walked througl1 tl1e door,
leaving the smell of her perfume behind her.
And though her smile had been warm and friendly, I felt a
brief moment of bitterness. Because, altho11gh for years we
had shared everything, we were now suddenly acting
formally, as if we didn't know each other. I still loved her
but, despite the fact that she said we wot1ld remain friends,

10
she had made us into strangers. In fact, we were worse than
strangers; we were uncomfortable in each other's company.
David was still talking. "That's for the sound engineering,"
he said, pointi11g through a window to another, smaller
room next door. ''And this,'' he sat down on a big black
chair with a happy smile, ''is where I will be sitting."
We all stood i11 silence around his big chair, waiting.
''OK," he laughed, enjoying his secret. ''I'll tell yot1 wh.at I
know. Mike," David pointed at one of the guys beside me.
''You're going to be helping me in here as assistant editor.
Congratulations!''
Mike smiled. A few people clapped.
''Francesca?''
A senior engineer stepped forward.
''You're in charge of the sound."
''Thanks, David!'' said Francesca, obviot1sly delighted.
''Thank Sir James; I just make reco1nmendatio11s. Derek?''
For the next few minutes, David went round the group and
revealed everyone's roles. At last there was just me and
Sarah left.
''Sarah?'' smiled David. ''Happy Birthday! You're
senior producer."
Everyone else cheered, but I was too nervous to speak.
Had Sir James chosen me? Or the other journalist?
Everyone was now waiting to h.e ar the answer, and
watching for my reaction.
''Now," said David, ''that just leaves the n1ain presenter role.
A11d I know you'll all be anxiot1s to hear about that,

11
 especially you, Pete. But I'm sorry to say that Sir James
hasn't decided yet.''
1
'What?'' I shouted. I couldn't stop myself.
''I'm sorry, Pete. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything.
And don't worry; even if he decides you're not right for this
particular job, you'll still have a place here as senior
reporter. OK, everyone," he turned to the rest of the room.
''Feel free to have a look around, familiarize yourselves
with your new equipment . . ."
Slowly, everyone left the control room. No one looked at me.
I knew that they were all thi11king the same: if Sir James
had chosen me, he would surely have told me by now.
Through the thick glass window separating the control
room from the studio, I could see that everyone was busy.
Sarah was inspecting the stage and all the machines. As
senior producer, she would have to know everything about
tl1e studio to make sure it worked smoothly.
I turned to our boss. ''David? 1
'

''I'm sorry, Pete," he answered immediately. ''Like I said, I'll

let you know as soon as I know."
''But we launch tomorrow!''
David smiled. ''I think we're all aware of that."
''It doesn't look good. for me, does it? Has Sir James give the
job to that other guy, the one from KPG News? 1'
''I really don't know, Pete. You have to hold on just a little
longer. I'm sure Sir James will make the right decision. You
deserve it more than anyone." He turned back to the desk
and pressed a button. ''OK, everyone,'' he said, and his
words rang around the studio. ''When )rou've had a good
look, it's back to work."

12
I looked up at the row of screens on tl1e control room wall.
If I did get the job, it would be my face on all of them. I
would be one of the most famous people in London. And
people all around the world would turn on their televisions
and look to me for all the important information on which
they based their lives.
''How are you feeling?''
I turned. The room was now empty ex.c ept for Sarah. She
was standing by the door, as if she was unwilling to step
into the room.
''Fine," I a11swered. But of course she knew I was lying. Sl1.e
knew how desperately I wanted the presenter job. That was
one of the reasons why she l1ad ended our relationsl1ip.
''You want that job too much," she had said when she broke
up with me. ''You care more about your career than the
truth behind your reports."
Of course, I had denied it. I had told her she wasn't being
fair. But she was insistent.
''You've changed," she had told me. ''You're no longer the
man I loved."
It was a terrible accusation, and I couldn't understand it. I
had thought that we were perfect together. I had thought
we shared the same goals. Obviously I was very wrong.
But as I looked at her now, standing by the control room
door, I saw a look of genuine sympathy on l1er face.
''What did David say?" she asked., and her voice was ki11d
and un.d erstanding.
I sigl1ed. "J11st that I have to keep waiting."
''He's right. Sir James has got all day to make his decision.
He could still choose you. Do11't give up yet."

13
I tried to smile. ''Thanks. And Happy Birthday, by the
way!'' I stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek and saw
her hesitate, just for a second. Then, more relaxed, she
turned her face toward me. It felt strange to be kissing her
just as a friend.
''I've got a present for you," I said. "It's on my desk."
''Thank you."
Just at that moment, Francesca walked past. ''Happy
Birthday!''' she said, seeing Sarah. ''What time are we
meeting tonight?''
Sarah looked at me quickly, then back at Francesca. ''Eight
o'clock."
''Great!'' nodded Francesca. ''See you then!"
There was a short and uncomfortable silence. I recognized
the look on Sarah's face. She was making up her mind
about something. ''Look, Pete," she said at last, ''it will just
be a few of us from work. But do you want to join us? I
didn't ask you before because, to be honest, I wasn't sure if
you'd want to come ..."
''Of course, I'd love to come," I interrupted.
Again, I was lying. I didn't really want to go out with
everyone else. I would have to pretend that we were both
just good friends, and that everything was OK between us.
And yet I did still want to be a part of her life. If she was
celebrating something like a birthday, I wanted to be there
with her.
Again, of course, Sarah noticed my lie. "Well, if you decide
to come, we'll be at Lazio's. But you don't have to ..."
''Lazio's?'' I said, surprised.
''Yes."

15
 I paused. Lazio's was 11.er favorite restaurant. We had dined
there together many times, just the two of us.
Sarah must have known what I was thinking. "I'm sorry,
Pete. Maybe that was inse11.sitive. You don't have to come
1"f . . .//

''Don't worry," I interr11pted. I forced a smile. ''It's a good

restaurant. You like it. So it's the perfect place ..."
''It's just tl1at I've booked a table and there's ..."
".. . the food's good .. ."
''... just a small group of us and it's ..."
''... great atmospl1ere."
''. . . not far from my flat."
We both stopped talking at the same tin1e, and stared
across the control room in another uncomfortable silence.
The situation was looking impossible. With the way things
were, whether I got the presenter job or not, l1ow would we
ever be able to work together again?
Just then, David shouted from tl1e newsroom next door. We
hurried through.
"Listen, everyone!'' he was saying. ''I've j11st heard: the oil
protest in Parlia1nent Square is much •bigger than expected.
There are thousands of people there, so I want one of us
down there now!''
''I'll go!'' I said quickly. It would be my last opportunity to
prove myself to Sir James.
But David hadn't finished. ''We'll m.ake this our lead story
in the evening edition,'' added David, ''so let's have the
interview on tape. You should take someone with you.
Sarah, will you go with Pete?''

16
Chapter 3

The interview
''Sixty-eight pounds, twice a week!'' a man shouted. ''That's
over five hundred pounds every month just to fill my van
with petrol! And my customers aren't going to pay the
extra. I can't afford to keep working!''
Sarah and I were pushing ot1r way through the crowds of
central London. The streets leading to Parliament Square
were full of people. No vehicles could get through; even
Westminster Bridge was closed to traffic.
''My husband's not well," an old woman called out. ''He
needs to keep warm, but it's too expensive to heat our home."
The name of our newspaper on the side of my briefcase
made it clear that I was a reporter, so everyone wanted to
talk to me.
''High oil prices mean high food prices," shouted a woman.
1
''I can't afford to feed my family. '

''And what about the people running the petrol

companies?'' called a young man. ''Every year, they get
ricl1.e r and richer because we have to pay more and more!''
1
'What do you think?'' shouted Sarah, over the noise. ''We
should interview some of these people."
I continued to push through the crowd. ''I want to find
someone in the Government who'll talk to us," I shouted back.
''But we should interview some of these people!'' called
Sarah, following me. ''They're the victims of this story!"

17
 ''We'll get a few members of the public later," I told her.
''Let's start with the people wl10 create policy."
At last, using my case to pusl1 a path through the crowd,
we reached the enormous fence surrounding the Houses
of Parliament, beside the security gate. I stood up on the
concrete base of the fence, and was able to look around.
''Half the country must be here!" I called down to Sarah.
And then I saw someone I knew walking out of the
Parliament building.
1
''Look!'' I pointed. ''That s Gordon Macleod." I pointed to
where the man was walking toward a smar(, black car. A
driver was holding the rear door open. ''He's in charge of
the Department of Trade. He'd give a great interview. Mr.
Macleod?'' I called through the fence. "Mr. Macleod?''
Gordon Macleod looked up and saw me. But tl1en he just
ignored me. He climbed into the back of his car and, with
help from the police, it slowly drove away through the
crowds. I was annoyed, and was wisl1ing that I already
had that presenter job. Then everyone would have been
happy to talk to me. I turned to see that Sarah was closing
her cell phone.
''That was David," she said. "He's arranged a meeting for
us on College Green with Dr. Edward Mawle. He's an
official in tl1.e Department of Energy."
''I know who he is," I said. I was impressed. ''Dr. Mawle
does.11't usually give interviews."
''He's not going to talk to anyone else. And David needs
the report by six o'clock if he's going to get it into the
evening edition."
I looked at my watch. ''That gives us ninety mint1tes. Let's
get going!"

18
''Shouldn't we speak to these people while we're here?''
1
' We don't have time now. We'll come back later."
College Green is at the south end of the Houses of
Parliament, on Abingdon Street. By the time we got there,
Dr. Mawle was already waiting at the edge of the crowd.
''Dr. Mawle. I'm Pete Booker, from The Enquirer."
The man shook my hand. ''I'm afraid I've only got a
few minutes."
''Then we'll get started.'' I pulled out my digital recorder
and began the interview. ''Dr. Mawle, oil prices have
reached a record high. All over the country, people are
struggling. What is the Government's response?''
''Energy efficiency is the key; we're asking the public to
improve their homes and vehicles so that they use less oil.
And we're encouraging businesses and. industry to invest in
alternative power sources. We need to decrease this
country's depe11dence on foreign supply."
''That's clear. But n1any would argue that you should be
doing these things anyway. What's your specific response to
this crisis?''
''This country has a good relationship with many
oil-producing countries around the world," answered
Dr. Mawle. ''They have agreed to provide us with oil for
a good price. And we're holding emergency talks with
many more countries. We're trying to agree on even
better prices for the future."
''But what about the present? What about tl1e people who
can't afford to heat their homes or feed their families today?''
''I mentioned the measures we're taking to encourage
energy efficiency . . ."

19
 •

r.

· • ~ s-
•

.
• • '• .
'

~ '
...,
•'lt·

;;,~>';/ {-f

f
''What about tax cuts?'' I interrupted. ''Far more than half of
what the public pays for petrol in the UK goes straight to the
Government! Why can you not do what other governments
around the world are doing, and reduce taxes?''
''Unfortunately it's not that simple. It's the job of
Government to balance a wide variety of respo11sibilities.
But the people of this country have a responsibility too.
Cutting taxes is not a practical solution; the answer lies in
reducing oil consumption. And that 1s something that we all
need to work on together, as a nation. This is an
opportunity to work toward a better, more environmental
future. The world is changing, and we must change witl1
it." Dr. Mawle looked at his watch. ''And now, Mr. Booker,
I'm afraid I have to go."
''Well done," said Sarah, as Dr. Mawle left. "He gave us
some good quotes. Although I don't think these protesters
would be happy with his answers."
''I think you're right," I said, looking for my briefcase.
''We're almost done here. You can go, if you want. I'll see
you at Lazio's later."
''OK," she smiled. ''And you'll speak to the protesters?''
I nodded. ''Have you got my briefcase?''
''No."
1
''But it was here, on the ground beside me!' I could11't see it
anywhere. ''Someone must have taken it!''
''There are too many people here. You'll never find it now.
Was there anything important in it?"
''Not really. And I suppose it's a small price to pay for that
interview. I wonder how David arranged it?''

21
 11
1 think he said that Dr. Mawle is a cousin of Sir James
Boyd," said Sarah.
''A cousin?''
''Yeah." She waved good-bye. ''See you at the restaurant!''
Before I could reply, she had disappeared into the crowd.
I watched her go, thinking carefully.

22
Chapter 4

The beginning of the end1

It was nearer half past eight by the time I got out of the
newsroom and arrived at Lazio's. I wasn't looking forward
to the evening. But I was determined to at least look like I
was enjoying it. And Sarah still had to open her present. In
the rush for Parliament Square, she'd left it behind.
As I hurried into the restaurant, I could see her sitting with
the others around one of the larger tables. They already had
their food and were enjoying their dinner.
''Sorry I'm late," I called across the table.
Sarah's smile disappeared the moment she heard me.
Conversation around the table died. She wiped her mouth
with a napkin, and then stood up to walk around toward me.
Instantly, I thought I understood. Sarah looked unhappy
because I hadn't got the job. My heart sank. ''Sir James has
chosen that other guy to present the channel, hasn't he?''
But Sarah didn't answer. ''Come here," she said quietly, and
led me away from the table.
''What is it?'' I asked nervously. ''Tell me! I need to know."
''It's not about the job, Pete. I just need to ask you something."
''What?''
Sarah paused. She looked uncomfortable, as if she didn't
know how to start. ''I saw your report on the oil crisis."
''Yes?''

23
 ''You didn't speak to any of the protesters."
''There wasn't enough time. David needed the story for the
evening editio11."
She nodded slightly, biting her lip. ''And so you reported
everything Dr. Mawle said. You didn't challenge a
single word."
I looked bel1ind her at the table. Everyone was sitting in
silence, pretending 11ot to listen. ''Why are we discussing
this now?'' I smiled, trying to change the subject. ''It's your
birthday! We shouldn't be talking about work."
''This is important, Pete," said Sarah, quietly. ''Think about
it. Our names are on that paper as well. We're all proud of
The Enquirer. It's famous around the world for balanced
reporting. And I'm sorry to say it, but your report read like
an advert for the Government."
That just made me angry. ''If it was such a terrible report, it
wouldn't be on the front page! David would never have
approved it."
Although her voice was still quiet, Sarah's reply was fast.
''Perhaps David is as eager to please Sir James as you are."
''What's that supposed to mean?''
She sighed. "It's obvious why yot1 didn't speak to the
protesters, Pete. It's because I made the mistake of telling
you that Dr. Mawle is Sir James's cousin."
I took a deep breatl1. ''Look, I don't want to argue with you,
Sarah. Let's just forget about the story. Let's just enjoy the
evening. We can talk about this tomorrow, if you want. It's
just one story. Don't . . ."
''But it's not just one story! It was the same last autumn,
when we reported on those countryside floods. Hundreds of

24
people lost their homes, and instead of really listening to
them, you only talked to the local politicians-the
supposedly important people."
''We talked about that, Sarah. Reporters need to make
good contacts."
''Not at the expense of the truth!''
''Let's not go through this again. Can't we just enjoy ..."
''You're right," she interrupted. ' This isn't the time or the
1

place to talk about this. I'm sorry, but I think it would be

better if you leave."
11
Sarah, please, it's your birthday! I want to celebrate
with you."
''I made a mistake inviting you tonight. Why don't we just
forget about this? I'll see you in the office tomorrow.''
Everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to leave. There
was nothing I could do. Sarah just did11't understand. She
seemed to think that ambition was a bad thing. But in any
organization, it's the people at the top who can make the
most difference. If I could get the news presenter job, I
would have security and greater control over my own
future. And I would be able to offer all the benefits of that
to her.
Slowly, I turned toward the door. I was miserable as I
walked home that evening. And I was halfway back to my
flat before I realized I was still holding th.e bag with Sarah's
rose. I'd carried it half way across London for nothing. I
threw it angrily into a public rubbish bin on the pavement.
Not long after, I stepped out of the lift onto the fourth floor
of my building. I couldn't escape the image in my mind of
Sarah standing in Lazio's, angry and disappointed.

25
 • .. ..
V
:::,,,,,_ d I

't
:~
,
But seconds later,, in the instant that I opened my front
door, I forgot all about her. Even in the dark, I could see
that the place was a mess. All my belongings had been
thrown on the floor. Pictures had been torn off the wall. I
thought someone must have broken into my flat and robbed
me. I was about to reach for my phone when I noticed, on
the coffee table, my briefcase-the bag I had lost in
Parliament Square!
I couldn't understand how it had gotten there. Puzzled, I
turned on the light. And then I froze. Because sitting in my
armchair in the shadows beyond the table was a man with
a gun.

27
 Chapter 5

No escape
''Shut the door!''
The man's voice was deep and rough. I did as he said.
''Put your hands up and step forward to the table."
''What do you want?" I managed to ask.
''Do as I say, and don't ask questions, or I'll put a bullet in
yot1r stomach."
I could feel my legs getting weaker, but I stepped forward.
"Now take off your coat. And throw it on the floor
beside me."
I watched as the 1nan picked up my coat and searched the
pockets. Did he think I had a gun? He fottnd nothing but
my cell phone.
''Empty your pockets."
''I don't have ..."
"Empty your pockets!'' he interrupted.
I emptied out my pockets onto the table: my keys, wallet,
and a stick of gum.
"Where's the tape?'' said the man.
"What?"
1
' The tape. I know you have it. Where is it?''
''I don't know what you're .. _,.,

28
 ''Don't lie to me," the man said. His voice was so calm it
was frightening. Slowly, he stood up, keeping the gun
pointing at me. ''Where is it?''
''Honestly," I said, and I could hear my voice shaking, ''I
don't know what you mean. You've made a mistake. If it's
money you want, I've ...''
''Either you can tell me where the tape is," said the man,
raising his arm to point the gun at my head. ''Or I can
shoot you and continue to look for it myself."
He was standing in the light now, and I could see him more
clearly. He was in his thirties and had long black hair. For a
moment, I thought I had seen him somewhere before. His
eyes looked determined and dangerous. I believed that he
would shoot me without a thought.
''OK!'' I said. ''Wait!'' I was thinking quickly. ''I know where
the tape is. But it's not here." Of course, I had no idea what
he was talking about, but I had to pretend that I did. It
seemed the only way to stop him killing me immediately.
''Where is it?'' he said, threatening me still with the gun.
''Downstairs," I lied. ''It's downstairs. In the basement. In
my locker in the basement."
''And have you made any copies?''

That seemed to be the right answer. ''Good," he smiled.

''Take me downstairs."
Slowly, I turned toward the door.
''You go first," he said. ''And remember, I can shoot you and
disappear before anyone knows I'm here."
I walked back into the hall and pressed the button for the
lift. The man stood just behind me; because we were going

30
out of the flat, he had hidden the gun in his belt, u11.der his
jacket. I didn't know what I was going to do. When he
realized there was no tape in the basement, he could kill
me just as easily.
''Get in,'' ordered the man when the lift doors opened. His
hand never left his side, only inches from his belt.
Slowly, I stepped inside.
1
'Press the button for the ground floor," he said, following
•
me 1n.
I knew what he was thinking; he didn't want to take his
eyes off me to press the button himself. To reacl1, I had to
step in front of him again, nearer the door. I pressed the
button and waited, without moving.
Perhaps he thought I would try to jump out the lift at the
last second as the doors closed, because he stepped up close
behind me. That gave me an idea. It was a desperate and
very risky idea, and probably very stupid. But I didn't 11.ave
a choice. I felt sure that the man was going to sl1.oot me
whatever happened, in my flat or in the basement.
So, as the doors started to move, instead of jumping
forward, I suddenly threw myself backwards. I knocked
into the man with the gun witl1 my full weight. I felt him
begin to fall. From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach
out to stop himself falling over. And then, jt1st as the doors
were closing, I jumped forward and through.
I knew that he would be only seconds behind me, but I
didn't stop to look. As I ran toward the stairs, I could hear
him pulling the lift doors open again. And the11 he was
running after me.
I could imagine him just behind me with the gu.n in h is
hand. As I flew down the stairs, I expected to feel a bt1llet

31
 in my back at any moment. Our footsteps were loud in the
s.m all space. I threw myself round every corner, desperate to
be 01,1t of his line of fire . I was out of control, and could
easily have fallen, but it didn't matter. I had nothing to lose.
Within a few seconds, I had reached the ground floor. The
hall was empty. As the sound of the gunman came closer, I
charged out the front door. Without stopping to look
around, I ran up the street, terrified, and turned down the
first corner I could find. I knew the gunman was only
seconds behind me.

32
Chapter 6

Why me?
It was abot1t ten o'clock at night. The street was empty. My
cell phone was still lying on the table upstairs; I had to find
another phone. I l1ad to call the police.
I ran toward a row of shops a few streets away: some
restaurants, cafes, and a newsagent. They would be open
S()On, and I k11ew I'd find a phone tl1ere. Up al1ead, I could
see two men walki11g toward me through the street light.
They were talking and joking. Perhaps they were rett1rning
from a night out. I rar1 toward them.
''Please!'' I cried. "Please! Someo11e's chasing me."
''What?'' said 011e of the men. He was smiling, as if he
tl1ought I was joking.
I grabbed him by the coat. ''Help me!'' I begged. "He's
trying to kill me!''
The man started laughing. ''What are you talking about?''
"He's got a gt1n. He's trying to kill 1ne. Please, help!''
''That's enough,'' said tl1e other man, tryi11g to push 1ne
away. "That's 11ot funny."
1'You don't l.1nderstand! Someone is trying to kill me!''

''Let go of me!" said tl1e first man. He seemed scared and

angry. "Get off!''
With a. big push, the two of them knocked me backwards
onto the pavement.

33
''Let's get out of here!'' 011e of them said, and they began to
run away.
"Please!'' I shouted. ''Call the police!''
But they didn't stop. As I sat on the grou11d, I watched them
cross the road and turn out of sight. And then, at the far
end of the street, the gunman appeared. He m.u st l1ave
heard the shouting. He began run ning toward me.
In desperation, I got to my feet and conti11ued to run. I
thought I'd be hit by a bullet at a.ny second. Soon I tt1rned
a corner and was outside the row of shops. The first, a
restaurant, seemed too obvious. The second was closed. I
ran on, past another few restaura11ts, a wi11e sl1op, and a
newsagents with newspapers outside. Near the end of
the row was a cafe. With a quick look behind me, I
stepped inside.
The place was busy, which was good. Lots of people were
sitting at tables or standing by the counter. I walked quickly
to the back of the cafe and sat down at an empty table.
There was a nevvspaper beside me; I picked it up to hide
behind. I pretended to read. But really I was looking
carefully across the cafe and out of the window.
Only seconds later, the g11nman appeared on the pavement
outside. I could see him looking arou.11d. He was wonderi11g
if I had gone into one of the shops, or had contir1ued
running. He turned one w ay and then the other, undecided .
I was terrified. The sweat was pouring down my face. If he
came inside the cafe, I would be trapped, with 11owhere
to go.
At last, the man walked away and disappeared from my
sight. Still I waited. Perhaps it was a trick? Perl1aps he was
waiting on the street for me to reappear.

35
 For what seemed like half an hour, I sat at that table,
pretending to read the newspaper. Fortunately the cafe
was so busy that none of the waiters bothered me. At last,
when I thought the gunman must have left, I began to
look around.
I was certain there would be a phone somewhere in the
cafe. I wouldn't need to go outside at alli I could call the
police and wait for them there. I would be safe!
I was just going to ask one of the waiters for the phone
when my eye was caught by a story in the newspaper. It
was about a dead body found in Brompton Cemetery. And
there was a pl1oto- of the man I had pusl1ed away just that
morning! Increasingly amazed, I read the article.

''The body of Kevin Brown, 34, was discovered just before

nine o'clock this morning. He had been shot in the back.
Mr. Brown was a journalist. According to his employers at
ADC News, he had recently returned from Africa. Police
suspect his murder was related to drugs; just over four
hundred pounds' worth of illegal drugs were found on his
body. Witnesses are asked to contact the police."

It was only then that I realized. The m.an chasing me with

the gun-I did recognize him! I'd seen him in the cemetery
that morning; he was the one with tl1e long hair. He had
appeared from behind the same bushes and watched as
Kevin Brown fell into my arms!
Suddenly, it was clear. Kevin Brown was killed because of
the tape! Maybe he had filmed somethi11g secret about the
drug world. Maybe that's what he was investigating in
Africa. And whatever secret Kevin had uncovered, the man

36
with the gun l1ad killed him to keep it quiet. And 110w that
san1e man with the gun thought that I had the tape!
My mind was working very fast. He must have thought that
Kevin gave it to me in the cemetery before he died. The
gunman wanted it back, and he was willing to kill me to
get it!
As I sat there in the cafe, I knew that I had a choice. I could
call the police and tell them everything. Or I could try to
find the tape first and discover its secret.
If it was a secret worth killing for, I knew that it would
make a big news story. And if I could get it to Sir James in
time, it would be the sort of story that would make sure I
got the presenter job. And there was no real risk now-if I
stayed away from my flat, the gunman would never find
me. When I'd sent in my story, then I could go to the police.
I had made up my mind. Now I just had to find the tape.

37
 Chapter 7

The truth
'

Was it possible that I did actually have the tape? If Kevin

Brown was carrying it in the cemetery, he might have
dropped it on the ground. Or he might have slipped it into
one of my pockets without me knowing. But the gunman
must have checked the cemetery already. And he had made
me empty my pockets.
Then I remembered my briefcase. Perhaps the gunman stole
it from Parliament Square because he thought the tape was
inside? But obviously it wasn't. So where could it be?
And then I realized. If the tape wasn't in my pockets and
wasn't in my briefcase, there was only one other place it
could be: the plastic bag with Sarah's rose!
I was calmer now. And I was thinking more clearly. Within
minutes, I had found a back door to the cafe and was
several streets away. I was confident that I had escaped the
gunma11. And only ten minutes later, I was standing in the
same dark street where I had thrown away Sarah's present.
The rubbish bin was full to the top. Without thinking, I
began to dig hurriedly with my bare hands. I emptied the
contents onto the pavement.
It was past eleven o'clock at night, but there were still a few
people around. A man walked by and saw me. With a look
of disgust, he crossed the street. I kept digging.
I threw out old cigarettes, dirty tissues, and empty bottles. I
picked through newspapers and magazines, old pieces of
fruit, and half-touched sandwiches. I was beginning to

38
 think that I was looking in the wrong bin. And then, at last,
I found the plastic bag.
Excited, I opened it. And inside, hidden at the bottom
amongst the leaves of the rose plant, was a small digital tape!
But where could I watch it? It wasn't safe to go to the
studio-there might have been others waiting for me there.
And I couldn't go home.
I thought about calling Sarah. Despite our argument, I was
sure that she would help if I asked. After all, she was as
hungry for a good story as I was. But it was my story! I
didn't want to share it yet.
There was only one place I could think of: Tottenham Court
Road. The street is in the West End of London, near all the
theaters. It's full of electrical shops that sell computers,
video cameras and recorders, DVD players, and televisions.
And many of the shops are open almost twenty-four hours
a day. If I could find a shop that was still open, I could
probably find a machine that could play the tape.
My wallet was with my cell phone, on the coffee table in
my flat, so I had no money for a bus. It took me forty
minutes to walk to the West End.
"Can I help you, sir?'' asked a man when I stepped into the
first open shop.
1
'I'm interested in your digital cameras,'' I told him. I was
pretending to be a normal customer.
11
Then you've come to the right place!'' the man smiled.
''Over here, sir."
I followed him to the back of the shop where there was a
long line of cameras on display.
''Do you have any particular function or price in mind?''
he asked.

40
''Not really."
''Then why don't you start with the best?'' He pointed to one
of the machines. ''This is the most advanced camera we have
at the moment. Professional quality."
''Do you mind if I try it?''
''Of course not, sir. You can see that it's attached with a
wire to the counter, so you won't be able to move far. But
try it. If you have any questions, I'll be at my desk."
''Thank you."
The man returned to the front of the shop. I found the
button to open the camera, and the tape fit perfectly. I had
to guess how to operate it, but, at last, a picture appeared
on the little screen. In case the shopkeeper returned, I lifted
the camera to my eye. I was pretending to trial it. But really
I was watching what was on the tape. It showed a
countryside that was half desert. All around were dead
trees and sand.
''This is Mapula,'' said a man's voice. 'A region of Bonande, on
the west coast of Africa." The picture showed more of the
surrou11ding land. "For years, the minority people of Mapula have
sought independence from Bonande. But the Bonandan Government
refuses to give up control, and has sent soldiers into t}ze Mapulan
countryside. And those soldiers are killing everyone without pit_lf."
I was puzzled. I had been expecting something about
drugs. But this seemed to be about something very
differe11t. The picture now showed a remote African
village. The huts were very primitive and made of mud.
All around, dead bodies were spread across the ground.
''This is just one of many, many similar villages all over Mapula,''
continued the voice. ''No one Jias been left alive. Men, women,
children, the sick and the elderly-they've all been shot, mitrdered,
by well-arm.ed Bonandan soldiers."

41
 The sight of so many dead people was horrible. The dry,
dusty earth was red with blood.
"With no arms manufacturers in this country, the United Nations
has tried to stop the killing. It's now illegal for anyone to sell guns to
Bonande. So the question is this: where are the guns coming from?''
Suddenly the picture showed a dusty gun lying i11 the dirt.
"This is an AK-47, a very common, and very deadly, zveapon.
This particular one is broken. A Bonandan soldier has tltrown it
away because it's not worth fixing. There are so many AK-47s in
this country that a new one costs just thirty American dollars."
The film cut quickly to reveal the man talking. It was Kevin
Brown, the journalist killed in the cemetery just that
morning. His face was brown from the African sun.
11
So where are these guns coming from?" asked Kevin. "Nearly
one million AK-47s are made every year in over a dozen
countries around the world. They are used by the armies of over
eighty countries. Any one of those countries could be selling
them illegally to Bonande. And becaitse these guns are
unmarked, it has been impossible to discover wlzere they come
from . . . until last week, when a mechanic . . ."
''Everything OK, sir?''
The voice, so close to my shoulder, made n1e jump. I
hurried to stop the film. Standing beside me was the
shop assistant.
''Yes!'' I said, trying to smile. ''Yes. Everything's fine,
thank you." I held up the camera again. ''I thought I
should try this out with an old tape. I had one in my
pocket anyway."
''That's fine," nodded the man. ''Do you want me to run
through the camera's main functions? It's an extremely

42
clever piece of equipment. So much of it is automatic. This
ro1v of buttons controls the . . ."

''I'm fine, thank you," I interrl1pted. ''Really. I'm happy

to explore for myself. I'll come and find you if I've
any questions."
The man nodded, but I could see he was disappointed. He
wanted to show me everything the camera could do. But
at last he turned around and walked back to the counter
by tl1e door.
When I was sure he wouldn't hear the tape, I started it
again. Kevi11 had just n1entio11ed something about a
mechanic, and now the filn1 showed a huge building full of
at least forty lorries.
"This is a bitilding near the docks at U1r1tare, Bonande's largest
international port. Jitst last zueek, a 1nechanic 1.LJorlcing at Umtare
was able to take this film.'1

As I watched, tl1e picture moved in on the 11-earest lorry. I

col.1ld see me11 working on it. The engine was open; it
looked like the lorry had broken down.
"These lorries," conti11ued Kevin's voice, "were sent to Bonande
as aid vehicles. Officially, they are intended to carry drinking
water aroitttd the coiLrztry."
The picture 1noved closer, but it was still from a dista11ce.
Ob,riously tl1e mechanic l1olding the camera didn.' t want to
be seen filming. The lorry had bee11 taken apart. The water
tank on the back had been completely removed.
''But this clearly shozvs that these lorries are carrying something
11
far more dangerous than water.
As I watched, I could see one ma.n clin1b onto the lorry. He
reached into a hole beneath wl1ere the tank had been. Then

43
 he passed something down to another man. They were
talking happily; they seemed relaxed about their work. And
then, as the first man reached down into the hole again, I
saw what he had passed to his friend: an AK-47. It looked
new. Within minutes, there was a pile of about a dozen new
guns on the ground.
''These guns are being used to murder th.e Mapulans. And the
Mapulans have no soldiers and rzo weapons to defend
themselves . . ."
As the men moved away to work on another lorry, the
camera moved quickly closer. The mechanic seemed to be
running quickly toward the vehicle. When he arrived at the
lorry, the picture turned to the engine. And there, stamped
into the metal, was a row of numbers._The picture froze on
the numbers as Kevin's voice continued.
"Tlzat same 'manufacturer's stamp was on more than twenty of
those vehicles. They all came to Bonande by ship, directly from the
manufactitrer. Several people who traveled on the same ship have
confirmed that they met no one else on the journey. They also
traveled direct, without stopping along the way. That strongly
suggests that the rnanufacturers tlzemselves are responsible. And
now we know where the lorries have come from. These numbers
reveal that. much.''
Whatever Kevin had discovered, it had been enough
to get him killed. And now I was about to learn
the secret.
"These guns are being used to mur{,ier thousands of innocent
people. They've been hidden in these lorries to avoid detection by
the United Nations inspectors. And the identity stamps ma!ce it
clear: these lorries were made in Britain."

44
Chapter B

Calling for help

Suddenly, the story had the potential to be enormous. It
wasn't about drugs at all; perhaps the drugs had been
hidden in Kevin's pockets to deceive the police. This story
was about international weapons trading. And if the guns
were hidden in the lorries by the manufacturers, then that
meant that a British company was involved. So someone
i11 Britain was deliberately helping to murder thousands
of Mapulans!
I had to tlse the numbers on the lorry's engine to trace the
manufacturers. Perhaps then I could find out exactly who
was responsible.
I carefully removed the tape from the camera,
thinking hard.
First, I had to find out which British companies sold aid
vehicles abroad. But how? A search on the Internet might
have provided answers. I could go to an Internet cafe. I
knew there wot1ld be one open somewhere.
But then I remembered. I didn't have any money! And I
couldn't go back to my flat or to the office; the gunman
might be waiting for me.
I had no choice. I put the tape carefully into my pocket a11d
then approached tl1e shop counter.
11
Excuse me," I said.
11
The man turned to me with a smile. Yes, sir?"

45
''I'm very interested in that camera."
''The Storm C70 is our best model, sir.''
''Yes. The problem is, I have to check a few details with my
work colleague first. And unfortunately I've left my cell
phone at home. Do you mind if I borrow your phone? I
won't be long."
''Of course, sir," replied the man, smiling happily. ''It's
through here."
Seconds later, I was alone in a back room, and the phone in
Sarah's flat was ringing. At last, she answered. ''Hello?'' She
sounded sleepy.
''Sarah! It's Pete."
''Pete! Why are . .. ? It's the middle of the night!
Are you OK?''
''Listen, Sarah!'' I interrupted. ''I've got a story, and it's huge.
Someone tried to kill me this evening, and I know why. I've
got a tape. If what's on the tape is true, it suggests that a
British company is breaking the law. They're selling lor1·ies
to the Bonandan Government. And hidden inside each lorry
are guns: AK-47s. And those guns are being used to murder
the Mapulans."
There was a pause. ''So take the tape to the police!''
''But the tape only shows what's happening. It doesn't say
what company's behind it. I've watched it. It shows the
engine number of one of the lorries. If we can trace that
number to the manufacturers, we'll know the 'what' and the
'who'! And then we can publish the most important story of
the last ten years! The police will take it from there."
Sarah was silent. I could imagine her thoughts. I could go
straight to the police, of course. But I only had half the

47
 story. And she was a news industry professional; she knew
that the full story would be so much better.
At last she made up her mind. ''What do you want me
to do?''
''If a country sells aid vehicles to Bonande, they have to
report the sale to the United Nations. So there must be an
official register somewhere. That's the first place to look. I
need details of any British companies on that register. And
then I need to know if any vehicles have tl1is number . . ." I
gave l1er the number of the lorry <.)n the tape.
1'0K," she said. ''Where are you now?''

''I'm in an electrical shop on Tottenham Court Road."

''Are you safe?''
''I'm fine. Don't worry."
"OK. Meet
. me ,, at Cafe Bristol in one hour. I'll see what I
can d 1sc.over.

48
Chapter 9

The story of a lifetime

"I've fot1nd something!" said Sarah. She was sitting opposite
me, tired but excited.
It was one-thirty in the morning. The cafe was nearly
empty. There was only one old m an sitting in the opposite
corner, drinking coffee.
''Wl1at?'' I asked . It was good to be talking to her again,
withot1t arguing. But even though I had left the gunman far
behind, I watched tl1e cafe door nervously. I was worried
that I had put her in danger by involvi11g her.
1
'Just as you told me," she said, ''whenever a country sells
any sort of vehicle to Bonande, it must i11form the United
Nations. All the details of the sale are recorded in an
official register. I found that register online. And one of the
details recorded is each vehicle's engine number."
11
Go on."
''According to the register, three British companies have
sold vehicles to Bon.a nde duri.n g t.h e last ten years. I looked
through the records of those three companies. And I
found it!"
''You found the lorry on Kevin Brown's tape?''
"Yes. It was one of forty lorries sold just last month to the
Bonandan Government. It was a direct sale by the
mant1facturers. Like you said, they were listed as aid
vehicles for carrying water aro1i11d the countryside."

49
 "So who built them? What company?''
''They're called FCA Systems."
"I've never heard of them."
''They're a small company, based just outside London, in
Surrey. I found out a bit about them. Four years ago, they
were a small company making machines for farms. But
they had no money and lots of debt. Then suddenly, another
company bought FCA Systems. Soon after that, they got
their first ord.er for aid vehicles to Bonande. They bought
lots of expensive new machines for the factory. And from
that moment, they never had any money problems."
Dangerous or not, I was starting to be glad that I'd involved
Sarah. I didn't know anyone else who was so good at
research; it often seemed that she could get computers to do
or tell her anything she wanted. I knew she would already
have an a11swe1· to my next question. ''So what company
bought FCA Systems?''
1
'It was a legal purchase, by Libras International. They're
based in Holland."
''Holland?''
"That's right. But Libras is itself owned by another company
called Al Auri. And gt1ess where Al Auri is based."
''Bonande!''
1
'Exactly. The chairman is a man called Damu Jafari."
''Is he connected to the Bonandan Government?''
''Not directly." Sarah smiled. ''But he's a cousin of President
Diallo, the President of Bonande."
''So the Bonandans bought a British company to do their
work for them! Then they hid the guns in the lorries and
sent them home!''

50
1
'Isn't there a chance that the guns were hidden in the
lorries somewhere along the journey? The records show that
the lorries went by ship, directly from Britain to Bonande.
But maybe they picked up the guns at sea?''
''In the tape, Kevin says he talked to a few people who
traveled with the ship. And they were absolutely sure that
there was no contact with anyone else while at sea. Besides,
it makes sense to build the lorries in the same place as the
guns; that means there's less risk of discovery."
Sarah nodded. ''You think the gunman is workir1g
for Bonande?"
''He must be. So that's it! We've got the story!''
1
'There's something else. Kevin Brown always worked with
the same cameraman. They shared an office at ADC News.
They must have edited the film together."
''The cameraman must know that Kevin's been killed. He's
probably hiding somewhere. We need to find him. And
before the gunman finds him!''
1
'We're too late, Pete. There was a fire early yesterd.ay
morning at the ADC News offices. The cameraman's body
was found later. The official report is that he died in the
fire. And all his equipment was destroyed."
1
'So this tape is the only evidence we've got left?''
''Exactly. So what are you going to do?''
''Contact David. We need to get the tape to the studio
quickly. Once there, we can gather what information we can
about FCA Systems and those other companies. A11d we
need to learn as much as we can about the man behind it,
this Damu Jafari. And we can copy the tape for broadcast
and hand it in to the police. Thanks to you, we've already

51
got everything we need to publish the story: we know the
companies involved and we know what they're doing!''
I was delighted. I had no doubt that it would be the lead
story in The Enquirer the next day. And other newspapers
and networks would pick it up from there. Soon,
everyone would know my name. And the presenter job
would be mine!
But Sarah looked worried. ''What about the gunman?"
''He's trying to kill me to keep the tape a secret. He thinks
that I'm the only person who knows about it. But as soon as
the tape's published, there will be no reason to kill me. And
then he'll stop hunting me. We need to publish the story as
soon as possible!''
''OK. Let's go to the office now. But when we get nearer, you
should wait a few streets away. The gunman might be
1
waiting there for you. '

Saral1 a11d I stepped out into the empty street. We began to

walk, looking for a taxi.
I was excited a11d I could tell that Sarah was as well. We
had proved once again that we were a good team. "What a
11
way to launch a news channel!'' I said. This is the biggest
1
story of our careers. A11d it s goi11g to be great for
The Enquirer.-' 1

'½nd good for you, too. Sir James is sure to give you the
job now."
''I hope so."
''I just hope we're not too late to help the situation
in Bonande."
1
''They won't be able to send any 1nore gt1n.s after this.'

53
 We walked in silence for a while.
''Pete," said Sarah at last, ''whatever I said before, I know
that you're a good man. You've proved that in the past.
But I can't help how I feel. I do think you've changed.
And I can't help worrying that this job will change you
even more."
''How?''
''It's a huge responsibility. Promise me you'll be careful.
Careful of yourself. Careful of getting too comfortable.
Careful of being unwilling to criticize the powerful.
Because that's when you'll stop being a good reporter."
I smiled at that. ''You think I'm a good reporter?''
Sarah smiled. ''Of course." She stopped and took my hand.
''Pete, when you called earlier and told me that a gunman
was chasing you, I was terrified. Even if we're no longer
together like we were, I still care for you. You know that,
don't you?''
A taxi had appeared. ''We should talk about this later," I
said. I put up my hand as it approached. It began to slow
down, and I opened the door for her. ''Let's get the tape to
David. We've got a great story. And we got it together! It's
going to ...
• II

Suddenly, I stopped, in a panic. Because running down the

street toward us was the gunman!

54
Chapter 10

Run and hide

''Quick!'' I shouted. I pushed Sarah inside the taxi. ''It's him!
Get in!''
The taxi driver heard the panic in my voice. ''What's
•
going ....?''
''Drive!'' I shouted. ''That man's got a gun!''
The driver didn't wait another second. The engine made a
loud noise as he hurried to get us away.
A quick look out of the back window showed the gunman
was still over fifty meters away. But now we were moving
down the street and going faster. We were escaping! Then I
saw him raise his arm toward us. I pushed Sarah down
beneath me onto the floor of the taxi as I heard the shot.
Suddenly, the vehicle started to turn sharply. Before I knew
what had happened, we had crashed into another car
parked along the street. The driver had lost control! And
before I could say anything, he had jumped out and was
•
running away.
''Quick!'' shouted Sarah. ''Let's go!'' She had already opened
the back door and was climbing out as quickly as possible.
''Go that way!'' I pointed to the nearest side street as I
jumped out beside her. ''You'll be OK; it's the tape he wants.
Find a phone. Call the police."
''Pete!'' cried Sarah. Her eyes glanced to the gunman still
running down the street toward us. ''I'm not leaving you! I
can help . . ."

55
 "Tell them I'll try to lead him toward Fulham police station.
Now go!''
''But Pete . . ."
''Now!''
Without waiting to argue, I began to run away in the
opposite direction. Just before I turned the corner, I looked
back. Sarah had disappeared. And the gunman was
following me.
I couldn't work out how he had found me. But then I
realized. He must have seen me with Sarah in Parliament
Square when he stole my briefcase! He knew that I would
ask her for l1elp. So when he lost me, he must have followed
her. Now she was involved, and it was all my fault.
The plan was to lead him toward Fulham police station. But
first I had to lead him away from Sarah.
Cafe Bristol was 011 Fulham Road, near the Royal Brompton
Hospital. We'd met there because Sarah's flat was just a few
blocks away. I knew the area well. And as she headed
south, I began to run north.
The streets were e1npty. A few cars passed, but it wasn't
safe to stop them. The gunman was too close. If I stopped
one, I was worried he would simply kill the driver as well.
He had already shown that he was willing to use his gun
on innocent people.
At the first corner, I turned left. Then I ran to the next
corner and waited. If I could get the gunman to follow, I
would lead him south again, back toward Fulham Road,
and back toward the police station. It was almost three
o'clock in the morning, but I knew tl1at the station was
open through the night. It was another five minutes away
at least, but if Sarah co11ld make that call, they would be

56
ready for the gunman. They would trap him, and Sarah
would be safe.
Seconds later, the gunman appeared. He saw me and
continued chasing, so I hurried round the corner and
continued down the street. I was still wearing my work
clothes and my feet were beginning to hurt. But I had to get
closer to the police station.
When I reached the next corner, by Ft1lham Road, I stopped
again, waiting for the gunman. But he didn't appear. I
waited at least ten seconds. I kept my eyes on the last
corner, but there was no sign of him. Had I lost him? It
didn't seem possible. And it wasn't safe to just wait in one
place; perhaps he had already C<.)me round the corner and I
hadn't seen him. Perhaps he was even now coming closer,
hidden behind all the parked cars. Or maybe he'd gone
down the next street and was intending to catch me from
the other direction.
I didn't have a choice. I had to keep moving. The best plan
was to go to the police station anyway, so I contintied
running. It was still a few minutes away.
As I hurried along the pavement, I noticed a figure on the
other side of the road, moving in the same directio11. It was
Sarah! She must have called the police, and was 110,v going
to the station to meet me.
I didn't want to cross the street; if the gunman was nearby, I'd
be caught in the open. Instead, I hurried closer on the opposite
pavement and then quietly called her name. ''Sarah!"
She turned and saw me. Then she waved for me to cross
the street. I shook my head, a11d pointed forward, toward
the station. But she didn't understan.d, and began to cross
toward me.

57
 At that moment, a car appeared up the street. As it came
closer, I waved my arms for help.
''Hurry!'' I called to Sarah. ''We can get a lift to the station.
Did you speak to the police?''
''They're waiting for us," she said, as she hurried to my side.
''Where is he?''
"I don't know," I said, still waving at the car. ''I think I
lost him."
Then I noticed that the car's side window was broken. In
the darkness, I couldn't see the driver. But as the car
slowed, a hand appeared out of the window. And it was
holding a gun.
I looked around. Behind us was a high brick wall. It was
the only escape.
''Quick!'' I shouted. Within seconds, Sarah was at the top of
the wall and I was close behind. Small clouds of dust rose
around us as bullets hit the wall, and then we were over. I
fell to the ground on the other side and looked around.
Without the street lights, it was completely dark, but I knew
where I was. I was back in Brampton Cemetery.
I could hear the car stopping on the pavement on the other
side of the wall.
''That way!" I said, pointing deeper into the cemetery.
''Hide!"
''But the police won't know we're here; we have to
tell them!''
''He's too close," I said. I could hear the car door opening
on the other side of the wall. ''Quick!''
In seconds, Sarah had disappeared into the darkness. I
began to follow her. Behind us, the gunman was now

58
climbing the wall. We had to just keep moving, to hide
among the trees and hope that the police would find us
before the gunman did. Surely if we failed to arrive at tl1e
station, they would come out and look for us. But would the
car lead them to look in the cemetery, even if it was stolen
and parked on the pavement with a broken window?
As I hurried through the black, I looked behind me. Against
the lights of the street, I could see the gt1nman appearing at
the top of the wall. And then he dropped into the darkness.
I tried to breathe quietly. And I stepped carefully. I didn't
want to make any noise that would direct him to where I
was. But all around me were graves, and I co11ldn't avoid
them. I was afraid he'd easily hear me bumping into them.
At last I stopped. I hid behind a gravestone and listened.
But I couldn't hear anything. I imagined Sarah somewhere
up ahead, hiding in th.e darkness.
And then I noticed the sound of a police car. It was far
away, but it was slowly coming closer. If they saw the car,
tl1ey'd be with us in minutes. We just had to stay hidden
until they arrived.
At that moment, I looked back toward the wall. And against
the lights of the street, I noticed another shape appearing
on top. Someone else was climbing over!
My first thought was that the police were here already and
that they were climbing into the cemetery. But then I
realized the person on the wall was alone. And she wasn't
climbing in, she was climbing out. It was Sarah! She was
trying to let the police know where we were! The gunman
would be looking into the cemetery rather tl1an behind him;
I could only hope that he wouldn't see her.
But at that moment, the moon appeared from behind a
cloud. The whole cemetery was covered in a silver light.

59
And from behind tl1e gravesto11e where I was hiding, I
could clearly see what was happening.
Suddenly revealed in the light of the moon, Sarah was easy
to see. And the gunman was only meters away. Before I
could do anything, he saw her. And then he reached for
her. And just before the whole cemetery went dark again, I
heard her scream.

61
 Chapter 11

Time to die
''Sarah?'' I called. I knew that shouting was dangerous; it
would tell the gunman where I was. But I couldn't stop
myself. ''Sarah!''
At last, out of the darkness, I heard her voice. ''Pete?''
I tried to see her through the dark, but it was impossible. I
started walking in case the gunman was following the
sound of my voice. ''Are you OK?'' I called.
''She's fine-for the moment," shouted another voice. It was
the gunman. "I've got her. Now give me the tape, or I'll
kill her."
''If I give you the tape, how do I know you won't kill
her anyway?''
''That's a chance you'll just have to take."
In the distance, still far beyond the walls of the cemetery, I
could hear the police cars coming closer. But even if they
saw the stolen car, they were still several minutes away at
least. It looked like there was nothing I could do. The man
had a gun, and he had Sarah.
At that moment, the clouds blew away and the moon
reappeared. Everything in the cemetery was clear again. I
jumped quickly behind the nearest grave. There, not more
than twenty meters away, was the gunman. He had his arm
around Sarah's neck and his gun against her ear.
At the sight, I wanted more than anything to give him the
tape. I knew that, without it, the people responsible for

62
killing so many innocent Mapulans would escape. But I
didn't care. I loved Sarah, and would have done anything to
save her. But I also knew that if I gave him the tape, he
would kill us anyway.
''I'm over here," I shouted as I showed my face from behind
the grave. At the noise, the gunman turned toward me. ''I
1
don't have the tape on me anymore, I called. ''I've put it
'

down on one of these graves." I pointed at the rows and

rows of gravestones. ''If you let her go, I'll tell you which
grave it's on."
In reply, the gunman simply twisted Sarah's arm behind
her back. He waited until she had stopped screaming, and
then smiled. ''No," he said. ''Bring the tape to me now."
I could see Sarah crying with pain. And behind them both,
I could see lights approaching in the sky. It was a helicopter.
It was coming closer, and fast.
''There's a helicopter in the sky behind you. It's tl1e police.
They're coming. You've only got a few minutes before they
arrive. So this is the situation: if you hurt her, I won't tell
you anything. And if you shoot me, you won't find the tape.
You won't have time to find it. But later, when it gets light,
the police will.''
The man said nothing. He looked briefly toward the
approaching helicopter, and then, with his arm still around_
Sarah's neck, he stared at me in silence.
1
''Let her go," I continued. ' Let her walk away, and I'll tell
you where the tape is."
Finally, the gunman stepped back and pushed Sarah
toward me. She ran quickly forward to 1ny side, terrified.
Then, with his gun still pointing at us both, the man pulled
out a cell phone.

63
6
Seconds later, he was speaking quickly into the phone. B11t
he was talking quietly; I couldn't hear what he was saying.
He seemed to be explaining the sit11ation. It looked as if he
was receiving orders. At last, l1e nodded, and hung up.
''Have you rnade any copies?'' he asked.
''None,'' I answered. ''We haven't even watched it yet. We
haven't had time. So we don't know anything; I don't even
know who you are. Tl1ere's only one tape, and you ca11 have
it. And that will be the e11d of this. Just let her go."
But the gunman simply looked once more toward the
helicopter and smiled. Whatever he was planning, he
obviously thought he had plenty of time.
''Either you have the tape or you don't," he said, calmly.
''And unless you give it to me now, I have no 11se for either
of you. Give me the tape or I'll kill you both."
''If you shoot me," I shouted, ''you'll never find tl1e tape
before the police get here!'' I was desperate. Behind the
gunman's head, I could see the helicopter coming close.
''I'll take that chance1' ' he said, and I knew at that moment
that he was pla11ning to kill us both.
There was nothing I co11ld do. There wa.s nowhere to hide.
As the man pointed his gun at us, I stepped i11 front of
Sarah and tried to protect her body witl1 mine. But I knew
that this man would kill us. and never think about us agai11.
I held Sarah tight behind me. ''I'm so sorry," I said. ''This is
all my fault." As I waited for the bullet that would kill me, I
closed my eyes. All I could think of was Sarah. ''I love you,"
I told her.
I wanted to hear Sarah tell me that sl1e loved me, too. I
wanted
. the last words I ever l1eard to be hers. But there was
.

no time; the shot came first.

65
 Chapter 12

Rescued?
The few seconds after that gun shot see1ned to last so
much longer.
I couldn't feel the bullet. I couldn't even feel any pain. I
realized I must be in shock. Unless I died first, I knew that
the pain would come later.
I opened my eyes. The world was no longer dark, but
bright. It was brighter than a summer's day. It was as if I
was staring into the sun, and my body was shaking like I
was caught in a wild wind. The noise of it rushed all
around me. And still I could feel no pain.
I thought perhaps I was already dead. I looked down at my
body. I felt my chest and my stomach. Only then did I
realize that I'd not been hit.
And then I felt a panic like I've never felt before. I thought
he'd shot Sarah.
I turned around quickly. Sarah was still standing beside
me. Her face was pale in the bright light and her eyes were
wide with shock, but she was OK.
''Peter Booker?'' Somewhere, a. voice was shouting
my name.
I turned toward the light. It was softer now, and I could see
that it came from a huge lamp. The lamp was attached to
the helicopter that had landed beside us in the cemetery.
The engine was still running noisily. On the ground beside

66
the helicopter was the gunman. He was kneeling on the
grass, unhurt. Two men stood above him with guns in
their hands.
''Mr. Booker?'' shouted the voice again.
A woman was standing beside n1e. I held Sarah close
and nodded.
''Mr. Booker, my name is Paula Jansen. Are you OK?"
I looked at the woman. She was in her fifties and dressed in
a smart suit. At last I answered her with a nod.
''I'm sorry about the gun shot. We had to warn him." She
pointed at the gunman. ''We saw him preparing to shoot
you, and had no choice."
''Who are you?l' I asked.
''I work for MI6-national security." She pulled out an
identity card from her pocket.
''The tape," I said. ''He's after a tape."
''I know," nodded Jansen. ''Is the tape safe?''
I nodded.
''Where is it?''
''Here." I reached into my pocket.
''Have you watched it? You know what it contains?''
''Yes. British lorries are being used to illegally transport
guns to Bonande. And the guns are being used to murder
thousands of Mapulans."
''But does the tape make it clear where the guns at1d lorries
are coming from? Can it tell us who's involved?''
I nodded. ''It clearly shows an identity stamp on the
lorries. We traced the numbers to FCA Systems. They're a

67
 company based in Surrey, with strong connections
to Bonande."
''That's all?''
I nodded.
1
The wornan looked disappointed. ' We already know about
FCA Systems," she said. ''We've been watching them for
weeks. Are you absolutely sure this tape can't give us any
more information?"
''There's nothing else on it. Just that lorry's number."
Jansen took the tape from me. ''You were lucky, Mr.
Booker," she said, pointing to the gunman. ''This man is
very dangerous. He's a professional killer. We've been
after him for months. I'm glad we found you in time."
''Thank you. I'm grateful." I turned and put my arm around
Sarah with a smile. ''It's over-we can publish our story! We
can still make today's front page."
But Paula Jansen heard me and shook her head. ''I'm afraid
not. You can't publish this story today."
''What do you mean? Why not?''
''Because we haven't yet arrested the people at FCA
Systems. We need to be sure we get everyone involved. If
you publish your story today, you'll ruin our operation."
''But this story is important!'' I said. ''How long do we have
to wait?''
''Twenty-four hours at the most. I'll contact you as soon as
we've arrested everyone. And then you can have your story,
I promise." She held up the tape. ''Is this the only copy?''
''Yes. I was going to ..."

68
 •

69
 ''Good," interrupted Jansen. ''Leave it all to us. I'll be
in touch."
Above the sound of the helicopter, I could hear police cars
arriving on the other side of the wall.
"The police will take care of you from here," shouted
Jansen, as the helicopter prepared to take off. She nodded at
the two men and they pushed the gunman aboard. ''I'll be
in touch soon," she shouted, as she climbed in after them.
''How?'' I shouted back. ''You don't have my
telephone number."
Jansen smiled. ''We're MI6, Mr. Booker," she called back.
''We know everything about you."
As the helicopter slowly rose off the ground, Sarah and I
stepped back. Jansen waved, and then her face disappeared.
The helicopter began to climb into the night.
At that moment, half a dozen policemen with guns ran out
of the darkness.
''Get on the ground!'' they shouted. They were taking
no chances.
Sarah and I put our hands up and dropped to our knees.
Immediately, rough hands were running over our bodies.
They w.ere checking to see if we had any weapons.
''They're clear!'' shouted a man beside me.
''Identify yourselves!'' shouted another.
''I'm Peter Booker,'' I said.
''And I'm Sarah Fulton. I made the phone call asking for help."
''We're journalists with The Enquirer," I added.
The policeman in charge stepped forward. ''Any identification?''

70
I shook my head. My wallet was still sitting on my coffee
table in my flat.
''Here," said Sarah. She gave a small purse to the policeman.
He opened it and began to inspect the name on her bank
cards. At last he was satisfied.
''So where's the man you mentioned to the emergency
services, Miss Fulton?'' he asked, as he gave back her purse.
''Where's this gunman?'1
''It's OK," I answered. ''He's already been caught."
I pointed up toward the helicopter. It was now moving away
across the city. ''That's an MI6 helicopter. Paula Jansen's in
charge. And she's got the gunman under arrest."
The policeman turned to speak to one of his men. ''Radio
the station," he said. ''Tell them to check that helicopter,
registration G3496."
''Yes, Sergeant."
The policeman then turned back to us. ''So why was this
man after you?''
''It's just as I said on the phone," answered Sarah. ''Kevin
Brown-the journalist who was killed here in the cemetery
yesterday morning-was killed because of a tape. And when
Pete found that tape, he was almost killed as well."
''The gunman wanted to destroy it," I added.
''And l1e's the same person who shot that journalist yesterday
morning?'' asked the sergeant.
''Yes," I nodded.
''You're sure about that?''

71
 ''Absolutely sure. He also broke into my flat. He was
looki11g for the tape."
''And what's so special about the tape?''
''It's evidence, of an international crime ..."
Just then, one of the other policemen came running
forward. ''Are you sure you got that helicopter's registration
number right, Sergeant?''
''Yes. I saw it clearly as it was taking off. Why?''
''Because I spoke to the Civil Aviation Authority and the
Department of Defense."
''Well?''
''There is no helicopter with the registration G3496. It
must have been a false number. And the station spoke to
MI6. They know Paula Jansen. But she retired three years
ago, aged sixty-eight. And she died six months later."

72
Chapter 13

Hunting for evidence

I couldn't speak. As Sarah turned to me in st1rprise, I just
stood in silence. I was too angry to say anything.
''Oh my God!'' she said. ''They were all working together!
The helicopter must have been helping to follow us."
I shook my head. I was angry with myself for being so
foolish. Without asking any questions, I had just given away
the only piece of evidence we had-to a stranger! I had
thrown away my story, and with it I h ad lost a11y cha.nee of
helping thousa11ds of Mapulans.
''You didn't ask this woman for any identification?'' asked
the sergeant.
''She showed me a card," I mana.ged to answer. I was so
angry I was finding it difficult to speak. ''We were jt1st
going to be shot. But Jansen, or whatever lier name is, she
saved us. After that, I never thought to question her."
The policeman looked puzzled. ''So wl1y did she leave you
alive? If she was working with the gunman, why did she
save you?-''
I was wondering that myself. But then the answer was
obvious. ''Beca1-1se without the tape, we've got nothing
against her. And three dead journalists in the same place
within twenty-four hours would 011ly cause more
1
questions!'' I said. ' She's cleverer tha11 that. She told me
exactly what I wanted to l1ear to allow her to take what she
wanted. She promised me a big story, anything that wot1ld
allow her to escape with the tape!''

73
 ''So now we've got nothing!'' said Sarah. ''Without that tape,
we don't have any evidence."
''I'll get a team to look around here when it gets light," said
the sergeant. ''They may have left something behind that
will help us identify them. But right now you'll have to
come to the police station. We'll have to file a report. You'll
have to give us statements."
Twenty minutes later, Sarah and I walked into Fulham
police station. There, the sergeant handed us over to the
police officer on duty. We were led into a room and we sat
around a table.
''Please," I said to the police officer. ''You have to send some
men round to a company in Surrey immediately. The
company's called FCA Systems."
''Why?''
''Because you migl1t find the person who tried to kill me-
the same person who broke into my flat. And the same
person who murdered Kevin Brown in Brampton Cemetery
yesterday morning."
''And," added Sarah, '1the same person who probably
killed Kevin's cameraman and then set fire to the offices of
ADC News.''
1
'How do you know all of this?''
I had no choice. I had to reveal at least a little more. ''Kevin
Brown was killed because he had a tape. That tape showed
that FCA Systems is breaking international law."
The police officer scratched his chin. ''And where's that
tape now?''
''It was taken from me just now in Brampton Cemetery. It
was taken by a woman who called herself Paula Jansen. She
escaped with Kevin Brown's murderer just before the police

74
arrived. That's why you have to send some men to Surrey
now. Jansen knows that FCA Systems is the only link we
have. You have to search the company's offices immediately!''
The police officer sl1ook his head. "I can't se11d my men out
there in the middle of the night witho11t any evidence."
''But you can if you suspect that a crime has been
committed! If a delay risks the d.e struction of evidence, you
have the power to break into the building."
"Perhaps- if I believe that a crime has been committed. But
in this case I have no proof that that office is connected to
any illegal activity. I have only yo11r word for it."
''What about Kevin Brown?'' I asked. ''You know that he
was murdered. And now I'm telling you I know where the
murderer is!"
''No,'' replied the police officer. "You're telling me you think
you know where the 1nurderer might be!''
''And what if I'm right?''
The police officer was silent for a moment. ''OK," he said at
last. "I'll call the local police station in Surrey. If they've got
a free car, they can send someone round to have a look at
the office. But that's all I can do for the moment."
''Thank you," I said.
''Wait here,'' said the police officer as he walked to tl1e door.
''I'll be back in a minute."
In fact, he was gone almost an hol1r. During that time,
Sarah and I just waited at the table. We grew more and
more impatient. At one point, another policeman arrived
with cups of coffee and some sandwiches. We were hungry
and tired, but my a11ger kept me wide awake. I was still
feeling stupid. And Sarah could see it.
''Don't worry, Pete," she said. "I would have done the same.

75
And we're both still alive. That's the main thing."
At last the police officer reappeared.
''Did you contact the Surrey police?'' I asked.
"Yes, I did."
''What did they find.?''
''They drove out to look at the offices of FCA Systems, just
like you asked. A11d they fou11d nothing. The lights are off.
No one is there. If they have time, they'll go back in the
mor11ing. But for now, that's all we can do.''
I was very disappointed. But there was nothing more I
could say to convince him. "Can we go home now?''
I asked.
''So you're not worried about the gun111an?" he asked.
''He didn't want us; he just wa11ted that tape. And now he
has it."
''If that's what you want,'' said the police officer. ''I'll have
someone drive you hon1e. Then we can check your flat.
Perhaps the gunman left some form of ide11tification
by mistake."
"Would you mind sending someone over in the morning
instead?'' I aske.d. "I think I'd just like to get some sleep
now. And we'll be fine with a taxi.''
''Fine," he answered. ''Then you're free to go."
A few minutes later, Sarah and I were sitting in the back of
a taxi. Neither of us said anything. Although we had both
escaped alive, it felt like we had lost. Inside, I was
screaming with anger.
''It's over then," sighed Sarah, at last. ''If Jansen and the
gunman aren't at FCA Systems, there's no way of knowing
wl1ere they are. Or who they are.''

77
 ''The police can't help us find any evidence. They have to
follow their procedures. But there's something that we can
do that the police can't."
''What?''
I looked at my watch. ''It's almost four o'clock. Let's collect
,
your car. We could be in Surrey by five."
''Why? What are you going to do?''
''They broke into my flat. Now I'm going to break into
their office."

78
Chapter 14

Walking into danger

In the light of the moon, it was clear that the building was
more like a factory than an office. We had parked Sarah's
car further up the road and walked quietly through the
night toward the front gate. We stopped about forty
meters away in case there were security cameras. Even
from there, we could see that the gate was heavily locked.
And the office beyond was in darkness.
''I can understand why the police think no one's in there,"
said Sarah.
''That's because they didn't go any closer. But either Jansen
has already left, or she's in there now. Because she knows
that vve know about this place."
''So how are we going to get inside?"
I looked around. A high fence ran all around the grounds.
It seemed to be at least fifty meters from the building in
every direction.
''Let's follow the fence. Perhaps there's another way in."
Ten minutes later, we were on the other side of the building.
But there was still no sign of any entrance. Nor did we
notice any activity inside.
''Look!'' Sarah whispered.
At the back of the building, a door had opened. Someone
was steppi11g out.

79
 ''It's the gunman!'' I said. Against tl1e light from behind
him, I could see his long hair. ''That proves it! Jansen must
have come straight here!''
''Let's call the police, then," answered Sarah. ''We can tell
them to come back."
"We can't wait that long! If there's any proof, it's inside
those offices. Jansen knows that-she's probably destroying
the evidence right now!''
"So what can we do?"
I looked up at the fence. It was abo11t ten feet high and
made of wire. ''Help me up," I said. ''I should be able to
climb over."
''No! Even if you can climb over, I won't be able to follow
you. And you won't be able to get back by yourself."
''I don't need to get back," I answered. ''I just need to find
some evidence before it's destroyed. Help me over, and then
call the police. Tell them to hurry. They can let rne out."
''But what if Jansen's men catch yo11 and the police don't get
here in time? Do you think they'll just let you walk away?!
I'm not going to help you ru.n to your death."
''They won't do anytl1ing to me if they know the police are
on their way. Look, Sarah, we don't have any choice! If we
don't find some evide11ce of what Jansen's been doing, she'll
win this. A11d then no one will pay for all those Mapulan
deaths. We have to try!"
I could see that she knew it made sense. But sl1e
wasn't happy.
''Don't worry,'' I smiled, trying to reassure her. ''I'll be fine.
Once I'm over the fence, get back to the car and call the
police. Wait for them there. Jansen's not going to escape
this time."

80
With. only a slight hesitation, I stepped closer and took her
11.and. Then I bent to kiss her cheek.
At the last moment, she turned her head, and kissed my
lips. ''Be careful," she said.
''I'll see you in a few 1ninutes," I said, and turned back to
the fence. I pulled 1nyself up until I was standing on Sarah's
shoulders. I could feel 11.er struggling to support my weight.
But it gave me the heigl1t I needed, and, a few seconds later,
I dropped down onto the other side.
"Be careful!'' sl1e whispered again, through the wire.
''I'll be fine. Go and call the police."
As Sarah disappeared in the direction of the car, I turned
and moved slowly toward the building. I was looking for
places to hide as I approached. I couldn't see any security
cameras around the building. And althot1gh there were
security lights, they were turned off. I wondered if there
would be anyone left to watch the cameras anyway. But I
knew that the gunman was somewl1ere nearby.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps. The moon was still out, and
there was nowhere to hide. Trusting that no one was
looking for me, I could only drop to the ground.. Tl1e
gunman reappeared from around the co1·ner of the
building. Withot1t even a look in 1ny direction, he walked
back to the door.
As it opened, I could see more of what was happening
i11side. Tl1e office was a large industrial building with a
concrete floor.
I couldn't see a lock or security system on the door. But, just
in case, I rushed up to follow the gt1nman. As he stepped
inside, I held the closing door slightly open. Then I waited
and listened to the sound of the gunman walking away. A
few seconds later I heard another door opening. Someone
1

81
 was talking up ahead, but I couldn't hear what was
being said.
Slowly, I opened the door wider and looked inside properly.
It was a large space. The area was full of complicated
machines. They were all organized in a long line around
the building. All around were signs of industrial work:
engine parts, supplies of oil, tires, and lots of tools. And
there, at the end of the line, near to where I was standing,
were three lorries. They were exactly the same as the ones
on the tape. So this was obviously where they were built. It
looked like they had suddenly stopped production. But to
prove that the company was doing something illegal, I ha.d
to find proof that they had been making guns as well.
I needed to find technical drawings, or a store of guns,
or at least records of their sale to Bonande. Tl1at was the
only way to prove that the company was doing
something illegal.
About twenty meters ahead, I could see another door. And
in the wall beyond there was a glass window. It looked as if
there was an office behind the window; the window would
have allowed the bosses to sit in comfort but still watch
their workers. And from the sound of his voice, I knew the
gunman was just inside.
If there was still any evidence, that was where it would be. I
needed to see what he was doing in there. Then I could tell
the police where to look when they arrived.
Slowly, I stepped inside tl1e building. As quietly as possible,
I hurried over to hide behind the nearest lorry. Stepping
quickly up, I looked inside the cabin. Tl1e vehicle looked
completely finished and ready for sale; the key was in place
and the leather seats were shining.

82
I went back down on my knees and listened. Still, the
gunman was talking on the other side of the door. But now
that I was a little closer, I thought I could recognize the
other voice. It was Jansen.
Holding my breath, I crossed over quickly until I
could kneel just below the window. From there, by slowly
raising my head above tl1e bottom of the window, I could
see them. But the window glass was too thick to hear them
properly. I could 011ly understand a few words.
Jansen was talking. I heard only a name: ''Jafari." Jansen
was sitting at a desk less than five meters away, and looking
toward the gunman. She was asking something about the
Bonandan behind FCA Systems.
In reply the gunma11 shook his head and mentioned
Bonande. Whatever he said, it made Jansen's face twist into
an angry smile, and she nodded. I guessed that Jafari had
already hurried back to Bonande. And, judging by Jansen's
reaction, he'd left her to clear up the evidence.
Then Jansen asked another question. The gunman nodded
and said something about software on computers.
''You're sure?'' asked Jansen.
Again, the gunman nodded, and now I tmderstood: the
gunman had been destroying any evidence left on the
office compt1ters.
Jansen smiled, pleased. And then, still talking, she held up
her hand. And in it was Kevin Brown's tape. So there was
still a chance! If I could somehow get that tape, I'd have the
evidence we needed. Perhaps it was the only bit of evidence
that hadn't yet been destroyed.
But then, before I could do anything, Jansen dropped the
tape onto the hard floor. And then she starnped on it again

83
and again. Soon, it was just a small pile of broken plastic.
Jansen said something about a fire, and the gunman bent
down and began to pick up the remains of the tape.
Jansen looked at her watch. ''Right," I heard her say, and
then she said something else. Her voice wasn't clear, but it
sot1nded like, ''I've got to go back to the village." Before I
could work out what she meant, she was moving toward
the door.
As qt1ietly as possible, I ran back the way I had come. Btit
just as I was approaching the outside door, it opened.
''Sarah!''
She was standi11g in the light.
"Quick," I wl1ispered, ''let's go! Jansen's .. ."
I froze. Standing behind Sarah was one of the men we had
seen earlier in the helicopter. And now he was pointing his
gun at me.
There was nothing I could do. Slowly, I raised my hands.

85
 Chapter 15

Out of the darkness

''Step back," ordered the man. He pushed Sarah inside to
follow me.
''I'm sorry, Pete," she said. ''He just came out of the
darkness. I didn't have ..."
''Quiet!'' said the man. At that moment, Jansen and the
gunman appeared behind me.
''The police know we're here," I said loudly. ''They're on
their way. They know all about FCA Systems."
Jansen said nothing. Her face showed no emotion at all. She
simply turned and walked back inside the office.
Seconds later, the gu11man reappeared. ''Empty your
pockets," he said.
The other man stepped forward. ''She was about to use
this," he said. He gave the gunman Sarah's cell phone.
''Anything else?''
Slowly, unsure, Sarah emptied her pockets. She took out her
car keys, her purse, and a small notepad. The gunman held
out his hand, but she didn't give them to him. She just
dropped them on the floor instead. The gunman just
smiled. Then he stepped forward and ran his hands down
her body to see if she had anything else. He was smiling as
he did it.
At last, he turned to me. ''Anything on you?''

86
I shook my head, but he checked me briefly anyway. All the
usual contents of my pockets were still in my flat.
Then the gunman picked up the car keys. ''They must have
parked near the gate. I'll bring the car inside. Take them to
the southeast corner, where the ground's rough. You know
what to do."
The man nodded.
''But keep it qtiiet," added the gunman, as he stepped out
the door. ''I'll be over in five minutes."
Had I understood properly? It seemed that the gunman had
just ordered- our deaths! And from the look on Sarah's face,
she thought the same. But there was nothing we could do.
With a gun pointing at us, we had no choice. The man
pushed us in silence back outside. It was still night, but now
the moon was hidden behind thick cloud; the whole area
was dark. He directed us along a path beside the factory.
''Wait!'' he said, as we approached the corner of the
building. Tl1ere was a switch on the nearest wall, and he
pressed it. A security light came on just behind us. It was
attached to the wall, and pointing out toward the fence
surrounding the factory. In the weak light, I couldn't see
much- just rough ground covered in grass and a few
bushes, and the thick woods beyond the fence. And I knew
then exactly wl1at was planned.
If the man was right and he'd caught Sarah before she'd
called the police, they wouldn't be coming to help. And
even if she had managed to use her phone, they would
arrive too late. We would be dead within minutes.
I wondered if I could stop the man, even just for a second,
to let Sarah escape. It seemed unlikely. He carried his gun

87
 like a professional soldier, and he was obviously ready to
shoot me without thinking. We didn't have a chance.
But I had to do something. Even if I couldn't get away
myself, I had to try to help Sarah. And I had to do it
quickly, before the gun.man came back.
We were now near the fence. It was a quiet cor11er, and on
the far side of the factory from the main gate. There was no
reason for anyone to walk this way; it was the perfect place
to bury two dead bodies. If they killed us here, no one
would ever know. And without any possessions, it might be
a long time before we were e·v en identified.
''Stop here!'' ordered the man.
1
We stopped. I turned to face Sarah. 'I'm so sorry," I said.
''This isn't your fault, Pete," she whispered. Her voice was
shaking but, despite her fear, her eyes shone with a calm,
inner strength. In that mo1nent, I found her more beautiful
than ever. But that only made me feel worse. I felt sick, not
because I was about to die, but beca11se I was responsible
for her death. I had gotten her involved in this.
''Kneel down," the man shouted. ''Put your hands on
your head."
I had to act. I knew that I wouldn't survive, whatever
happened. But I had to do something.
As Sarah bega11 to kneel, I moved slightly forward as
though I was helping her. I put otit my arms like I was
lowering her to the ground. But, at the last second, I pushed
her aside and jumped at the man with the gun.
''Run!" I shouted.

88
I knew that I didn't really have a chance. After all, he was a
soldier. I was just a journalist. I spent my days sitting at a
desk or talking to people over lunch. He probably spent his
days running up and down mountains, and learning how
to kill people quietly and painfully. But perl1aps he knew
that. Perhaps he knew the difference between us. And
perhaps that made him more relaxed than he should
have been.
As I jumped toward him, he stepped back in surprise. But
instinct made him also raise the gun. I put out my hands to
push the gun away. I was desperate to stop it pointing
toward Sarah, who was already on her feet and running.
But I missed the gun. And as the man swung his arm in
defense, the gun hit me on the head.
It wasn't a hard knock, but I felt dizzy. Still, I managed to
grab at the man, to stop him from chasing Sarah.
''Go!'' I shouted to her, throwing myself onto him. ''Get out
of here!''
From the corner of my eye, I could see her running. She
was heading back toward the building, away from where
we had come. And then, just as she disappeared behind the
corner, the man hit me hard in the stomach. I couldn't do
anything; instantly weak, I fell to my knees. I tried to pull
myself along the wet ground, into the darkness, away from
the gunman, but I was coughing and coughing. The man
stepped toward me. As he raised his gun to my head, I
thought only of Sarah. At least I had given her a chance.
''What's going on?''
I looked up. The gunman was walking across the grass
toward us.

89
''Wl1at the hell's happened?'' he asked.
''He jumped me," said the man, still pointing his gun at 1ny
head. ''The woman ran round there."
1
'Finish him," answered the gunman. ''Thert follow me. She
won't have gone far . . ."
That second, there was a loud crash. And in that instant,
the world turned black.

91
 Chapter 16

Running fram bullets

It was Sarah. She had broken the security light.
''Run, Pete!'' I heard her voice through the dark. And as I
threw myself to the side, I heard a sound like a cough.
The man had fired his gun. But although my legs were
shaking and I still felt dizzy, I had rolled far enough. He
had missed me. And seconds later I managed to get to my
feet. Then, before they could catch me, I was run11ing into
the darkness.
I didn't go straight toward the building, where Sarah had
been. And I didn't go straight toward the fence. I hurried
as quietly as I could toward the more open ground, away
from anyone. I knew it wouldn't be long until they turned
on more lights, so I hurried to get as far away as possible.
Even if Sarah's car was now inside the fence, the gunman
had her keys. And we all knew tl1ere was only one gate in
the fence, and that was locked. But they would also know
that we couldn't climb over the fence alone. I had to find
Sarah. Even if I was left behind, there was still a chance
that I could help her get away.
I was just wondering how I could find her when I tripped
over a bush and fell. I was lucky, because at that moment
the· moon briefly reappeared. If I hadn't been flat on the
ground, the men would have seen me. In the light of the
moon, I saw them moving in my direction. They had
spread out, and were walking slowly forward, guns ready.

92
And in that second before the moon disappeared and
everything went dark agai11, I saw Sarah. She had run
even further around the building and was now pushing
herself against the wall, trying to hide. As the men moved
slowly closer to her, I saw her looking anxiously around
for a11 escape.
It wouldn't be long before they found her. So, at the risk of
making a noise, I ran directly toward where I had last seen
her. Soon, I was beside the building. With one hand out to
guide me along the wall, I kept moving. A few steps later, I
felt her, and quickly gave her arm a squeeze to let her know
it was me. I was jt1st going to pull 11.er across tl1e grass
toward the fence when I had an idea.
Ch.anging my mind, I pulled l1er forward, further a long the
·w all. Together, we silently ran on aroun.d tl1e building, back
toward tl1e door. The men were somewhere behind us, not
far away. But I was hoping that they would never imagine
we would run straigl1t back toward Jansen.
Soon, we were back at the main door. Sarah looked
puzzled, but I nodded to calm her and then carefully
looked inside the building. It was empty. Either Jansen l1ad
already left, or she was inside the office.
I poi11ted toward the nearest lc.)rry, and waved at Sarah to
follow 1ne. Seconds later, I was helping her up into the
lorry's cabin. Soon she was sitting i11 the driver's seat. There
were the keys there, just as I had seen them earlier.
''Wait until I've got the door open, the11 start the engi11e," I
told her. "And then just drive. This lorry should be able to
break througl1 tl1e gate. It's l1eavy e11ough. I'll jump on as
you pass. Whatever you do, don't stop."

93
 At Sarah's nod, I ran back toward where we'd come in. The
door itself was a small part of a larger gate for vehicles.
Only the door locked; the gate was just shut from the inside
with a metal bar. As quietly as possible, I moved the bar
away. And then I began to swing the gate open.
Behind me, the building filled with noise as Sara.h started
the lorry's engine. There was a moment's pause as she tried
to get the lorry moving, and then it began to roll toward
me. It was getting faster with every second.
''Jump in!'' shouted Sarah, as the lorry rushed past and
through the gate.
I had just pulled myself up and opened the side door when
the gunman ran round the corner. If he hadn't reacted so
quickly, we would have run him over. He threw himself
backwards just in time, and then we were past him. As I
climbed inside, we went quickly down the drive toward the
front gate.
As Sarah concentrated on driving, I watched in the side
mirror. In the light from the factory, I could see that the
other man had appeared. He was firing his gun at us. I
don't know if he hit the lorry or not. It made no difference;
we were protected by the large water tank on the back.
The man began to run after us, but we were pulling
quickly away.
''Hold on!'' shouted Sarah. The engine made a loud noise as
we got closer to the gate, still going faster and faster. And
then, seconds later, we hit the gate.
The lorry shook a.nd there was a sound like tearing metal,
but we hardly slowed. Our large wheels ran easily over bits
of broken gate, and then we were out on the road.

94
 "We did it!'' I shouted. I couldn't believe we had escaped.
''Well done!''
Then I noticed that we were slowing down.
''What are you doing?'' I cried. ''Keep going! We've got to
keep moving!''
"We can't," answered Sarah. ''We've run out of petrol!''

96
Chapter 17

An empty victory
I looked at the petrol register. Sarah was right: the lorry was
totally empty.
1
'I guess they 011ly put enough in these vehicles to move
them around the factory line," she said.
I looked again in the mirror, but it was too dark to see the
gunmen. ''OK," I said. ''WeJve got to run. Let's go!''
Rather than run down the road, we rushed into the woods.
It was the only place we couldn't easily be followed. We
walked carefully throttgh the trees, alvvays in sight of
the road.
''Did you manage to call the police?'' I asked qttietly.
''I didn't have time. I'm sorry. He caught me only minutes
after I left you at the fence."
''It doesn't matter. Eve11 if we tell tl1e police everything we
kr1ow, there's still no evidence.''
''You didn't fin.d anything?"
''Jansen and the gt1nman were in tl1e office. I tried to hear
what they were saying. They've already taken any evide11ce
off the computers. And I saw Ja11sen break the tape into
little pieces. So that's it. There's no evidence left."
''011ly us."
''But we haven't any proof! There's nothing we can do.
We've no evidence of what FCA Systems has been doing.

97
 And we've 11othing to show that Jansen's connected to the
company. We don't even know who sl1e is!''
''At least we're alive."
''For the moment, maybe. But she knows exactly who we
are. She knows where to find us. We might have escaped
for the moment, but Jansen can send her gunmen after us
at any time. We can't get her, but she can get us whenever
she wants."
It was a frightening thought. Would we have to live with
that threat forever?
''Do you think they're still following us?'' asked Sarah.
''I'm not sure. It would be easier for them to simply wait for
us at our flats. Or at The Enquirer."
''So what are we going to do? Is there nothing more we can
tell the police? Or are we jt1st going to wait for Jansen to try
to kill us again?!''
I didn't answer. We continued to walk in silence. Above the
road, not far away, the sky was full of stars. It was really a
beautiful night.
''Pete?'' said Sarah at last. "I've been thi11king. You've done
tl1e right thing with this story, and I'm proud of you. But
the deal is done. The Bonandans already have their guns."
''What are yol1 saying?''
''We've lost. Jansen has won. I think that we should forget
this story, not tell anyone. If Jansen sees that we've not
published the story after a week or two, she'll know that
we're not going to. We have to convince her that we're going
to keep quiet. That's the only way to stop her coming after
us. We need to persuade her that we're not a threat."

98
''Do you really think she'll take that risk? She could arrange
for us to be killed at any time, in any place. ,vhy should she
let us live? And anyway," I was angry now, not at Sarah,
but at the idea of defeat, ''if we give up now, that's not going
to help all those Mapulans who are being killed!''
''Maybe it's too late for them. But there will be others who
need help. And we'll be in a position to help even n1ore;
with the TV news channel, we'll be able to make even
more of a difference. Sir James has invested a lot of money
in that studio to make sure we can do the best job
possible. Those computers are the best yot1 can buy. And
the cameras alone must have cost a fortune-Storm C70s
are thousands of pounds each!''
''What did you say?''
''Those cameras in the studio-they're so expensive.''
''Storm C70s! The studio cameras are Storm C70s?''

''When I watched the tape in that electrical shop, I used a

Storm C70 ."
''So?''
''When David showed us around the studio, he said that
Storm C70s record everything automatically onto the
hard drive!''
''That's true. Whatever's on the scree11 ..." Sarah stopped,
realizing. "You mean we've got a copy of that tape after all?"
''Maybe."
Up ahead, I could see a small parking area by the road.
And in the parking area was a public phone box. We
started walking toward it.

99
 ''But Pete," said Sara.h, ''it makes no difference! You said
it yourself: we don't even know who Jansen is. If you
make that tape public, it won't change anything. Apart
from one man in Bonande, we still won't know who's to
blame here in Britain. And Jansen could still come after
us." She paused. ''Let's just forget about it. We'll pretend
this never happened."
The idea was appealing. But I couldn't just forget everything
I knew. I couldn't accept defeat. After all, I had seen the
pictures on that tape. I had seen the bodies of all those
dead Mapulans. And I just didn't believe that Jansen would
let us live.
"Sarah, we have to try to tell this story. That's the only
chance we have. If we broadcast Kevi11's tape, the police will
have to look into it. Perhaps they'll find out who Jansen is.''
'And if Jansen kills us because of it?''
''She's already trying to kill us! But at least we'll have told
the story first," I replied.
I picked up the phone and ordered a taxi. And then I began
to dial David's number. Beside me, Sarah was looking
anxiously back up the road.
Seconds later, I was speaking to our boss. ''David?'' I said.
''It's Pete."
''Pete! Where the hell are you? This is our big day! The big
1
launch. And I ve bee11 trying to contact you since last night.
Sir James called. He liked your report with his cousin in
Parliame11t Square. And at last he's confirmed it: he wants
you to be the presenter of the channel. Congratulations!''
I didn't say anything.
''Pete? Did you hear me? The job's yours."

100
/

r
'
 Suddenly, I felt more tired than ever before-not just
physically, but mentally as well. I had just been offered one
of the most powerful roles in the British media. But for all
that power, I still couldn't catch Jansen, or the other people
responsible for so many deaths in Mapula. For all my new
power, I felt useless.
''Pete?'' repeated David. ''What do you think? That's great
news, isn't it?''
"Great," I answered, without real enthusiasm. ''I'll see you
in the office." Then I just hung up the phone.
Ten minutes later, our taxi arrived. As Sarah and I sped
back into London, I stared unhappily out the window. The
presenter job was mine. And Sarah's behavior over the
previous hours had convinced me that our relationship
wasn't dead at all. I should have been delighted. But still I
felt like I had lost.

102
Chapter 18

Forced to give up
''This is proof, David," I said as he watched the tape. ''It's
proof that FCA Systems is breaking international law."
Sarah and I had arrived at the studio only minutes before. I
had insisted on going first to the electrical shop, and now
we had a copy of the tape that Jansen had been determined
to destroy!
Sarah wasn't happy. She still thought that Jansen would let
us live if we just kept quiet. But I disagreed; I thought we
should broadcast the tape on the TV news show. It was our
only chance to catch Jansen before she caught us.
''So who's behind FCA Systems?'' David asked. ''And who
is Jansen?''
1
''The company is registered to one man," I answered. 'A
Bonandan called Damu Jafari. We don't know who Jansen is."
David was silent as he thought. And then, at last, he shook
his head. ''No," he said. ''You can't broadcast this. Maybe
there's a story here. But without any idea of Jansen's
identity, it's not e11ough."
''But broadcasting the story now is our only chance of
finding out who she is!'' I argued. ''If we go public with
this, the police will be forced to investigate further. And the
longer we leave it, the more time Jansen will have to cover
her tracks. The more time she'll have to silence us forever!''
''Pete, I'm sorry. If you're in danger, you should go to the
police. But we're not going to run this story; we've got other

103
 things to worry about. Now go and get ready. We're
ope11ing with a report from the village."
''From where?''
'The village. Westminster! Our first report is a live link
1

with our reporter in Parliament Square about the oil crisis."

'0f course! The village! Westminster is sometimes known
1

as 'the village,' isn't it?''

1
David looked at me like I was mad. ' You know it is."
'
1
The village and the oil crisis," I said. ''That's it!''
1
'What?'' asked Sarah.
'1I heard Janse11 say that she had to get back to the village-
I'm sure she meant West1ninster!''
1
"Honestly, Pete!'' said David. 'It could have been any village."
''But think about it; it makes sense! Bonande is rich in oil. I
bet Jansen works for tl1e Government, probably the
Department of Energy or the Department of Trade. Britain
needs oil, and Bonande needs guns. I think Jansen has
arranged an oil deal with the Bonanda11s; she's giving
them cheap AK-47s, and they're giving us cheap oil. That
must be it!''
1 1
'That's a guess!" said David. ' And even if you're right, even
if Jansen does work for the Government, you still need
proof! How can you prove that Jansen-or whatever she's
really called-is mixed up in this?''
1
'Sarah and I would swear to it. Jansen's men tried to kill
us! And the police already know abot1t the gunman in the
cemetery. The rest would just confirm our story. Then
there's Kevin Brown's murder."
11
And the death of his cameraman in the ADC News fire,"
added Sarah.

104
''But none of that is related directly to Jansen!'' answered
David. ''If she takes you to court, it will be your word
against the word of a senior Governrrient official- if that's
what she is. And without proof, you "'rill lose. No, my
decision stands. You've not got enough e,1idence to run this
story yet. You need to confirm that Jansen does work for the
Government, and then use that information to keep trying
to find a clear connection."
''But David ..."
"Pete, listen! Sir James's cousin works at the Department of
Trade! If you start accusing Dr. Mawle's department without
any proof, we'll all be out of a job. So until you have solid
proof that connects Jansen to FCA Systems, I don't want to
hear anything 1nore about this."
As David disappeared into the control room at the back of
the studio, I turned to Sarah.
''We've still got half an hour until the launch. Will you do
me a favor? Help me to confirm Jansen's identity. Please? If
Jansen does work for the Government, that information
will be accessible to everyone. We should start with the
Department of Energy, then the Department of Trade.
They're the two departments involved in the sale of oil
and weapons."
''Why? That still won't give us the proof we need."
''Please, Sarah! I have to know who Jansen really is."
Sarah turned to the studio computer screen. ''Here you are,"
she said, only seconds later. ''This is the official website for
the Department of Energy."
''Is there any information about the people working there?''
''There's a long list of the senior employees," she nodded.
''With photos."

105
Thirty seconds later, we l1ad checked through them all.
None of them looked like Janse11.
''Try the Department of Trade," I said.
''Pete," she said, typing quickly. "We're wasting our time.
You should get ready." But she was already loading up the
website ior the Departme11t of Trade. And with a click of a
button, we were looking at the people in charge. And,
again, Jansen wasn't among them.
Very disappointed, I turned away. Ja11sen had won.
''Hang on,," said Sarah. ''There are more employees here."
She clicked on another button. "The senior team."
And there in front of us was the woman we knew as
Jansen. The woman who had ordered our deaths was
smiling at us from the computer screen.
Sarah turned to me with a smile. ''You were right! Janet
Tomkinson is her real name. She's a senior official at the
Department of Trade!''
We had identified Jansen at last. But the discovery only
made me angry. I felt disgusted, with Jansen and also with
myself. Jansen was part of the Government. And it was
part of my job to question our Government, to make sure
that our politicians behaved correctly. Instead, in my
newspaper report the night before, I had pri11ted everything
that Dr. Mawle said, without question. I had been so keen
to please Sir James that I had stopped acting like a
professional reporter.
''This doesn't help us, does it?" said Sarah, looking at the
photo. ''We still ca11't connect her to FCA Systems."
''You heard what David said," I answered. ''It's ridiculous!
But without proof, we can't run the story. We know what's

107
 happening, and we know who's involved. But still we have
to keep quiet!''
And yet, although I was angry, I also knew that David was
right. I was a professional, and now the presenter of a major
news channel. And professionals do not make accusations
without proof.
Besides, even if we did broadcast the story, that didn't mean
that we would succeed. Jansen was a powerful figure. And
she had already started to destroy the evidence. If I went
public with what we knew, I would lose my job. And I
would make Jansen all the more determined to kill us.
''So what are you going to do?'' asked Sarah.
''There's nothi11g we can do," I answered. ''We haven't any
choice. We have to try to forget about the Mapulans and
Bonande. And we have to hope that Jansen will let us live."
I could see that Sarah was relieved by my decision.
''OK," she smiled. ''Good luck, Pete." She gave me a quick
hug. "Tl1is is what you always wanted."
Sitting at my desk in front of all those cameras for the first
time should have felt like a victory. After years of hard
work, I was 110w one of the most important people in
British broadcasting. So why did it seem so worthless? And
why did I feel so bad?

108
Chapter 19

The final broadcast

''Good morning, viewers!'' I tried to smile, but I felt empty
inside. "Welcome to The Enquirer's live news channel. My
name is Peter Booker. We start today with a report from
Parliament Square. The world oil crisis continues and, here
in Britain, public opinion is strong. We'll now go live to our
reporter on site . . ."
The face of our reporter appeared on the large screen
behind me.
''Thanks, Peter," he said. ''I'm down here in the
heart of Westminster, where the crowds are still
surrounding Parliament . . ."
The reporter continued talking, but I had stopped listening.
I felt sick. In my mind, all I could see was so many
dead Mapulans.
I looked aroLind the stt1dio. David was in the control roon1.
at the back; Sarah was sitti11g by the computer. Behind the
cameras, the room was dark. And witl1 tl1e bright lights on
my face, I couldn't see far. Bt1t I could see enough to 11otice
a figure standing behind. Sarah like a shadow. Whoever it
was, wasn't n1oving. And then, as I watched, the figtire
slowly raised an arm. toward her ltead.
I should have shouted. I should have screamed. I should
have jumped into tl1e dark11ess and done anything I cot1ld
to save Sarah's life.

109
 Instead, I froze. I hated myself for it. But I couldn't move. I
watched as the figure stepped closer to her, and closer to
the light. I saw her turn, and I waited for the sound of the
gun. I was hot with sweat, my body aching.
And then Sarah turned toward the front again, and I could
see that she was smiling. And now, nearer the light, it was
clear; the figure behind her wasn't a gunman at all, but a
studio assistant.
At that moment, I felt more disgusted with myself than
ever. Whether I broadcast our story or not, we would
always be afraid for our lives. I knew that. Until Jansen was
caught, we would always be at risk.
For those few seconds when I thought Sarah was about to
be attacked, I had frozen. I had done nothing. And now
was I going to sit and do nothing while thousands of
Mapulans were murdered? Was I really going to keep quiet
about what I knew, just for the sake of a job?
Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. As the reporter continued
to speak, I waved for Sarah to come over to my desk.
''I need your help!'' I whispered.
"Pete! We're in the middle of a report! The camera will be
back on you in just a few minutes."
''So just do as I ask. Please!''
"What is it?''
''Here!'' I gave her Kevin Brown's tape. ''Get this ready
1
to play.'

''Please. I'll take the blame. I have to do this."

110
The report from Parliament Square was coming to an end.
The reporter was finishing an interview with an energy
expert. A few seconds later, he turned back to the camera.
''That's it from here, Peter. Back to you in the studio."
''Thank, John. And now ..." I hesitated. This was my last
chance to just forget about Jansen, and to keep my job. I
looked across at Sarah. She nodded-the tape vv as ready.
Behind her, I could also see the studio assistant, looking
again like a threatening shadow.
''Before we go to the next story," I said to the camera,
''we've got n1ore for you on the oil crisis."
''Pete?'' Through the wire in my ear, I could hear David's
surprised voice. ''What are you talking about? It's the
business news next!''
At the back of the studio, I could see him in the control
room. He stood up suddenly from his big, black cl1air. And
as I continued, his surprise turned to panic.
''We at The Enquirer have discovered that a company here in
Britain is breaking United Nations law. It is selling vehicles
to the African country of Bonande. That in itself is, of
course, not illegal. But hidden inside those vehicles are
guns. And Bonandan soldiers are using those guns to
murder the people of Mapula."
In the darkness behind the cameras, I could see the
cameramen turn to look at each other. They didn't know
vvhat was happening. But, importantly, they continued
to record.
''Pete?'' I heard David's voice again in my ear. "What are
you doing? I told you, I haven't cleared this story!''

111
 I ignored David, and reached into my pocket. Then I
nodded to Sarah. She looked nervous but she pressed a
button and, within seconds, the screen behind me came to
life. And it clearly showed Kevin Brown's film of the dead
Mapulans and the guns as they were removed from the
lorry in Bonande.
"This tape," I continued, ''was recorded by the journalist
Kevin Brown. Just yesterday morning, one day after he
returned to Britain, Kevin was murdered in Brompton
Cemetery, here in London. He was murdered by the men
responsible for selling these guns to Bonande, because they
didn't want this tape to be made public. The tape is proof
that they cannot deny. The identity stamps on that vel1icle
link the lorries to a company in Surrey called FCA Systems.
1
And that's where the guns are made.'
1
'Pete!'' In the control room, David was waving and
1
signaling for me to stop. 'We're cutting to the next story,"
11
his voice shouted in my ear. You haven't cleared this with
me! I'm taking you off ..."
Suddenly, David's voice went quiet. I could see through the
control room window that he was still shouting and giving
orders to his assistants. He was pressing buttons and trying
to stop the broadcast. But outside, in tl1e studio, he couldn't
be heard.
I looked around. And then I u11derstood why he was
suddenly silent. Everything he tried to say and do from the
control room had to pass through the computer-the
computer where Sarah was sitting.
When David realized that l1e had lost control of the
broadcast, I saw him hurry toward the control room door.
But he couldn't open it; Saral1 had used the computer to

112
lock them all. She had finally seen the tape for herself, the
tape for which she h ad nearly been killed several times.
And now she was nodding at me i11 agreement. I
understood what that meant: I had her support. She knew
we were doing the right thing, whatever the co11sequences.
Ignoring the panic in the control roon1, I looked straigh.t at
the camera. Because it was the channel launch, I l<11ew that
hundreds of thousands of people ar()U11d the world were
watching-journalists, businessmen, government officials,
as well as members of the public. And they were all
listening to me.
''It's terrible to discover that a British company is involved
in the deaths of so many innocent people. Bt1t there's more
to this story than that. The Bonandans are using these gt1ns
to take total control of Mapula. The reason? Beca11se
Mapula is rich in oil. And Preside11t Diallo, the man in
charge of Bonande, is using that oil to make a lot of money.
B11t there are others benefiting from so 1nuch oil. Ot1r
investigatio11 has discovered that the men behind FCA
Systems are linked to our own Government."
This time, I could hear the noises of surprise all around the
studio. And I could see David clearly through the window of
the control room. He was waving his arms as thougl1 he was
mad. And then he bent down, disappearing from my view.
''That's right, viewers. Members of the British Government
are invol,red." With the press of a butto11, Sarah put a
picture of the woman we knew as Janse11 on the screen.
''This woman is 011.e of the principal people behind it. Her
name is Janet Tomkinson. She's a senior official in the
Department of Trade. Ton1.kinson has made a deal with a
murderer. Sl1e agreed to st1pply guns to Bonande in return

113
 for cheap oil. But the important question is why? Why did
Janet Tomkinson and others feel it was necessary to make
such a deal?''
In the control room, David reappeared. He was holding his
big, black chair. And he was preparing to throw it at the
window. But I didn't hurry. I knew that I had to concentrate ,
on the story. I was about to share the truth, and I knew that
it would be a difficult truth to hear.
"The cost of oil has caused a world crisis, because oil is
something that we all rely on. We need it to fill our vehicles
and to heat our homes. We need the hundreds of different
products that it helps us to create. And because we have
had oil-and all the benefits of oil- in our lives for so long,
we expect it to continue forever. But the world is changing.
Even with the occasional discovery of new supplies, we are
running out of oil. And so I ask you all now: whc1t price are
you willing to pay to live the same life you have always
lived? Ask yourselves what the real cost is of our hunger for
oil. Because it might not just be oil you're pouring into your
vehicles or your central heating systems. It might be the
blood of thousands of innocent Mapulans."
I knew that my words would be heard all around the
world, by hundreds of thousands of people. And I knew
then that Kevin Brown hadn't died for nothing. His tape
would be played again and again. It would tell the story far
better than my words.
"And now," I said at last, ''over to our business team."
The whole studio fell silent as we cut to the business
reporter out on the streets of the City of London. No one
moved. And then, from the back of the studio, there was a
very loud crash as David's chair fell through the control
room window.

114
 •

,;,

115
 ''Pete!'' screamed David. He started to climb through the
broken window. ''You are in more trouble than you can
imagine!'' he shouted. ''You too, Sarah! What the hell do
you think you're doing?''
''I'm sorry, David," I called, as he charged toward the stage,
''but I ..."
''You're sorry?!'' l1e screamed. ''You locked me in the control
room! You took over the studio! And you think that sorry
makes it OK?!''
''I had to do something," I answered. ''We can't just let ..."
''I told you we weren't going to run that story. You know
that. That's why you locked me in the control room. For
God's sake! You've just accused a senior member of our
own Government of doing deals with a murderer! And
you've no proof at all."
''It's OK, David," began Sarah.
''No, it is not OK!" he answered, still shouting. ''If Janet
Tomkinson takes us to court, it could cost us millions! And
what's Sir James going to say?''
''If there's any trouble," I said, ''I'll take the blame."
''You're right. You will take the blame, both of you. As of
right now, neither of you works here anymore. I want you
out of this studio in five minutes, or I'll call security!''

116
Chapter 20

Truth and justice

''Cheers!'' said Sarah. She picked up her glass of crtampag11e.
''I'm not sure I feel like celebrating," I answered. ''After all,
we've both lost our jobs."
The two of us were sitting at a table by the window in
Lazio's restaurant. It was only twenty-four hours si11ce she
had sent me home from her birthday dinner. But now that
seemed like weeks ago.
''You're right," she said. 1'We don't have ou.r jobs. But you
did the right thing."
I nodded, and we both drank in silence.
1
'Pete, l owe you an apology. I'm sorry. You proved me
wrong. You fought for the truth, even though it cost you
your job. And that's a small price to pay for your story."
1'0ur story. And Kevin Brown.,s story."

The Enquirer's eveni11g newspaper was all about

Tomkinson's arrest. So many people watched the TV report
all around the world that it generated enormous public
pressure. The police were forced to act. They got legal
permission to search both the Department of Trade a11d the
Department of Energy. They found evidence of an
agreement with Bonande on Tomkinson's computer. They
also found envelopes of money at her home. And they were
still continuing to search the homes and offices of other
Government officials. There was even talk that Gordon
Macleod, the head of the Department of Trade, was i11volved.

117
 ''I saw an interview with the Chief of Police just before I
came out," I told her. ''He said he was confident that
everyone involved will be caught."
''And meanwhile there are calls for the United Nations to
review its policy for Bonande. This could make a real
difference to the Mapulans. You did it, Pete! You won!''
''We won. We make a great team."
Sarah nodded and smiled. There was a moment of silence. I
looked across at her, and I thought about everything that
had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
''You were right, you know," I said.
''About what?''
''About that presenter job. I wanted it so much, but for all
the wrong reasons: for the money, the image, and the
recognition. I'd forgotten why I became a journalist: to
find the truth, for the good of tl1e story-not for my
own good."
Sarah smiled. ''And now you've proved that you don't need
a job like that to reveal the truth."
''On the contrary," I smiled back. ''I've proved that a job like
that can help to make the truth more powerful!''
Sarah laughed. ''As long as you're not afraid of losing
the job."
I nodded, still smiling. At that moment, I didn't care about
the job any longer. I had Sarah with me. And that meant
that I was happy.
And then her cell phone rang.
''I'm sorry," she said.
''That's OK. Answer it, if you want."

118
She looked at the number on her phone. ''It's David."
I watched Sarah as she listened to David's voice. She looked
as tired as I was. But she was still as beautiful as ever.
''He wants to talk to you,'' she said. She ga-.:.re me her phone.
''Pete?'' I heard David say. "I've been trying to contact you
for hours."
''I turned my phone off earlier this afternoon."
"I imagine it hasn't stopped ringing since your report. Look,
Pete, I got your message. And I'm still not happy about
what you did. But I accept your apology. I understand why
you did what you did."
''That's understanding of you, David. And I really am sorry."
''I've got someone with me here who wants to talk to you."
A few seconds later, another voice came on the line.
''Mr. Booker?''
I recognized it instantly. ''Sir James!''
''Congratulations! You gave our news channel quite an
introduction to the world!''
''If this is about the legal consequences, Sir James, I'm
prepared to take full responsibility ..."
''What legal consequences? You were right! There'll be no
trouble for us, and no trouble for you."
''So you're not angry?''
''Angry?'' Sir James laughed. "This is the best possible
beginning for the channel."
''What about your cousin? What about Dr. Mawle?''
''I don't know if he's innocent or guilty," he answered.

119
 And to tell you the truth, I don't care too much anyway. If
11

he's involved, he'll get what he deserves . . . Look, Pete, I'll

be honest with you. I'm a businessman, not a reporter. I
don't understand everything about news, but I understand
about profit. The bigger our audience, the greater our
profit. It's all about image- you have to appear reliable. If
people don't believe what you're saying, they stop
listening. If they suspect for a minute that you're not
telling the truth, they stop watching. But you've just made
The Enquirer's news team more believable than any other
news provider in the world! Now everyone knows that
we're prepared to reveal the truth-even if it involves my
1
own fa1nily! That s the kind of principled image that
money can't buy!''
''So what can I do for you now?''
1
''We want you back Pete. We ve had calls from all around
1

th~ world. Everyone wants to interview you and Sarah.

They all want to buy the story. And they all want to show
your tape."
''Kevin Brown's tape," I said. "Technically, it belongs to
ADC News."
''Don't worry about that. I've already spoken to ADC. We've
made a deal. So what do you think? Will you come back?
We'll increase yo11r salary, of course."
''And Sarah's."
"Naturally. Well?''
I thought for a moment. ''I'd want full editorial control. No
restrictions.''
''You can have all the control you want, Pete. Just as long as
you bring me an audience. Now, what do you think?''

120
''I'll speak to Sarah and call you in the morning," I said,
and hung up.
''What was that all about?'' asked Sarah.
I smiled. ''We've got our jobs back."
"What?''
"Sir James wants us both to lead the TV news team.
Increased salary and full editorial control."
Sarah looked at me like she couldn't believe it. ''Pete!'' she
laughed. ''That's ama.zing!'' Then she saw my face.
''What's wrong?''
''You know I've wanted this job for a long time, Sarah. It's
e·v erything I've ever dreamed of. But there's something I
want more. And I'm not sure that it's possible to have
both together."
''What are you saying?''
''Sarah, you know how I feel about you. And I think you
still feel something for me. So if it means that we can have
another chance, if it means tl1at we can be together like we
were before, I'll turn down Sir James's offer."
''You'd do that?''
''Definitely."
''Really?''
''Yes."
Sarah looked down at the table. ''I do want us to try again. I
think we should. I think we've earned it."
''Then I'll call Sir Jam.es," I said, reaching for the phone. ''I'll
tell him now that he can give the job to someone else."

121
 1
''Wait! I don t want him to give it to anyone else. I want you
1
to do it. You deserve it! '

1
''But I don t want it if it means that I can't be with you."
'

Sarah smiled her beautiful smile and reached across the

table to take my hand. ''So let's do it together. Like you said,
we're a good team. In every way."

122
 , ,-

•
 Review: Chi1pters 1-7
A. Match the characters in the story to their descriptions.

1. Peter Booker a. an official in the Department of

2. Sarah Fulton Energy
b. the new TV producer for
3. David Strauss
The Enquirer
4. Sir James Boyd C. a journalist for ADC News
5. Kevin Brown d. a wealthy businessman, owner of
6. Dr. Edward Mawle The Enquirer
e. senior editor at The Enquirer,
Pete's boss
f. a senior news journalist for
The Enquirer

B. Choose the best answer for each question.

1. Why does Pete not help the man in the park?

a. The man tells Pete to go.
b. Pete is hurrying to work.
c. The man is too dirty to touch.
d. The man is already dead .
2. Why has Sarah ended her relationship with Pete?
a. She loves someone else.
b. Pete is too old for her.
c. She thinks Pete has changed.
d. She believes Pete doesn't love her.
3. Why has Dr. Mawle agreed to an interview?
a. He respects Pete as a journalist.
b. He is a cousin of the man who owns the newspaper.
c. He wants the public to know the truth.
d. He is being paid a lot of money to talk.

124
C. Fill in each blank with the correct answer.

1. Sarah is celebrating her birthday at a restaurant cal led

2. The flower that Pete bought as a present is a _ _ _ _ __ _

3. Pete is hoping to be made the main _ _ _ _ ___ at work.
4. Pete loses his _ _ __ __ _ while reporting at Pai iiament
Square.
5. Pete te lls the gunman that the tape is downstairs in the

6. As he runs away from the gunman, Pete hides in a _ _ __ _ __

D. Read each statement and decide whether it is true (T) or false (F).

1. Two men on the street help Pete escape from the gunman. T / F
2. Pete telephones the police from the cafe. T / F
3. The man Pete saw in the cemetery that morning is a journalist. TI F
4. The tape is in the bag with Sarah's present. TI F
5. Pete buys a digital camera to watch the video. T/ F
6. The Mapulan government is killing the Bonande people. T/ F

125
 Review: Chapters 8- 14
A. Complete the crossword puzzle.
.
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'" >

I
''!
'
I•
.,_
Across
3. A British company is secretly involved in international _ __ trading.
6. The tape contains important _ _ of the crime.
7. Sarah checks the official for information on the sale of aid
vehicles.
8. Pete and Sarah decide to break into FCA Systems' _ _

Down
1. Pete learns that the helicopter is using a ___ number.
2. The guns are hidden inside _ _
4. Pete uses a digital _ _ to watch the tape.
5. Pete and Sarah run toward the _ __ to escape the gunman.

126
B. Read each statement and decide whether it is true (T) or false (F).

1. Sarah says she still cares about Pete. TI F

2. The gunman finds Pete by following Sarah. TI F
3. Pete is shot by the gunman in the cemetery. TI F
4. The real Paula Jansen has been dead for almost three years. T/ F
5. The police help Pete and Sarah search the offices of FCA Systems. T / F
6. Pete sees the gunman destroy the tape at the FCA Systems office. T / F

C. Circle the correct word or name in italics to complete each sentence.

1. As he hides in FCA Systems, Pete can hear the gunman talking to

Paula Jansen I Sir Peter Boyd.
2. Jansen is happy/ unhappy with Damu Jafari's behaviour.
3. The gunman has been busy saving I destroying all the information on
the computers.
4. Jansen hides I breaks the digital tape with the evidence.
5. Pete hides from I attacks Jansen and the gunman.
6. Sarah is shot I caught by one of the guards.

127
 Review: Chapters 15-20
A. Choose the best answer for each question.

1. What does the gunman order the guard to do with Pete and Sarah?
a. Take them outside and kill them.
b. Send them to the police.
c. Give them something to eat.
d. Lock them in the office.

2. Why does Pete attack the guard?

a. Pete wants to kill him.
b. He loses his temper.
c. Pete is trying to save Sarah.
d. He knows that the guard is frightened.

3. Why do Pete and Sarah climb out of the lorry after their escape?
a. They want to hide in the forest.
b. They run out of petrol.
c. The lorry has been shot.
d. They are stopped by the police.

4. Why is Pete not happy to hear that he got the presenter job?
a. He realizes he does not want the job after all.
b. He knows he will be killed by Paula Jansen.
c. Sarah does not want to be in a relationship with him.
d. He feels powerless to catch Jansen and help the Mapulans.

5. In the end, Pete thinks the most important thing about being a
journalist is _ _ _ _
a. to be powerful
b. to make a lot of money
c. to uncover the truth
d. to capture criminals

128
B. Number the events in the order they happened (1-15).

Pete interviews Dr. Mawle from the Department of Energy.

A gunman is waiting in Pete's flat.
Pete and Sarah get back together.
The tape is destroyed by Paula Jansen.
Pete and Sarah break into the FCA Systems office.
Pete finds the tape in a rubbish bin.
Sarah meets Pete at Cafe Bristol.
A woman called Paula Jansen takes the tape from Pete.
A dying man approaches Pete in a cemetery.
They discover Paula Jansen's real identity.
The police reveal that the helicopter does not belong to M16.
Pete goes to an electronics shop on Tottenham Court Road.
News of Mapula is broadcasted live on TV.
Pete and Sarah are cornered by the gunman in the cemetery.
The gunman orders for Pete and Sarah to be killed.

129
 Answer Key
Chapters 1-7
A:
1. f; 2. b; 3. e; 4. d; 5. c; 6. a

B:
1. b; 2. c; 3. b

C:
1. Lazio's; 2. rose; 3. presenter; 4. briefcase; 5. basement; 6. cafe

D:
1. F; 2. F; 3. T; 4. T; 5. F; 6. F

Chapters 8-14
A:
Across
3. weapons; 6. evidence; 7. register; 8. office

Down
1. false; 2. lorries; 4. camera; 5. cemetery

8:
1. T; 2. T; 3. F; 4. T; 5. F; 6. F

C:
1. Paula Jansen; 2. unhappy; 3. destroying; 4. breaks; 5. hides from; 6. caught

Chapters 15-20
A:
1.a;2. c;3. b;4. d;S. c
8:
2, 3, 15, 11, 10, 4, 6, 8, 1, 13, 9, 5, 14, 7, 12

130
Background Reading:
Spotlight on . i •

Investigative journalism is not ordinary news reporting. Instead of covering

daily events, investigative reporters dig deep into a topic of public interest to
uncover important issues or secrets. A single story may take weeks, months,
even years to develop.

,.-
•'

August 9, 1974: Nixon leaving the White Hous e.

Perhaps the most famous case of investigative journalism is the Watergate

scan dal in the United Stat es. On June 17th, 1972, five men were arrested for
breaking into political offices based in a Washington hotel called Watergate.
Many people thought it was just a minor crime. But Bob Woodward and Carl
Bernstein, two young reporters from the Washington Post newspaper,
worked hard to uncover the truth.

131
 '

They managed to link the break-in with

senior members of the U.S. Government;
,..i ~ ,,'11• )l<»i"
.... .,:,,o.!< many of these people were sent to jail.
,.,......,.l.,:'h ),j"~
Eventually it became clear that even the
President, Richard Nixon, was involved in
hiding the truth of the crime. On August 9th,
1974, more than two years after the break-in,
President Nixon was forced to resign. As a
result of Woodward and Bernstein's
investigation, the Washington Post won a
;; Pulitzer Prize for Public Service.
'"·"""
·s<

Nixon resigns as President of the United States.

What makes a good investigative journalist?

You must:
• have a hunger for the truth
• be able to think quickly
• be able to explain complicated stories in a clear way
• have a good understanding of the area under investigation
• be able to gather information and find patterns or links that others
might miss
• be willing to carry on, even when all looks hopeless

Journalism can never be silent; that is its greatest virtue and its
greatest fault. It must speak, and speak immediately, while the
echoes of wonder, the claims of triumph and the signs of horror are
still in the air.
Henry Anatole Grunwald
(journalist, editor, and diplomat}

Think About It
~-::;t

1. What do you think the quote by

is about? •
.·. • " r
.,.l
2. Many investigative journalists risk b~ing sett to'
jail. Why de you think this is?
3. Is it always !Jest to reveal the truth to the pu·bJic?

132
 Spotlight on . . .
!he I.nternat:onal
The sale of weapons and related equipment between countries is cailed the
international arms trade. Most of the world's weapons are created for '·
nationa l armies, and the industry is worth hundreds of billions of dollars
every year.
• Analysts claim that if all the money spent on arms around the world in
2008 were divided equally among everyone on the p.lanet, each person
would receive US$217.
• The world arms trade is worth we ll over fifty times the tota l amount of
money available to the United Nations, the group created in 1945 to
preserve international peace.

} Because it is often governn1ents who

decide contracts, the arms industry is
hugely political. And because of the
large amounts of money involved, it is
often linked to crime.

Countries with the highest military

spending in 2009 (USSbn)
1. us 661
2. China 100*
3. France 63.9
4. UK 58.3
5. Russia 53.3*
6. Japan 51.0
7. German y 45.6
8. Saud i Arabia 41 .2
9. India 36.3
10. Italy 35.8

•estimated
Sources : SIPRI Military Exp endi ture Database ~nd
United Nat ions Population fund (U NFPA)

133
 The illegal and growing trade of small
arms !weapons carried by individuals)
is a major problem around the world.
According to the Control Arms
campaign run by Amnesty
International, at least a third of a
million people are ki lled directly by
small arms each year. Many more are
injured, abused, or lose homes and
loved ones as a result of armed
~ vi ol ence. The Control Arms campaign has proposed an international
agreement called the Arms Trade Treaty to police the trade of arms, but many
countries have avoided signing it.

The AK-47 assault rifle is the most

popular, and perhaps the most iconic,
of weapons. They are relatively cheap,
easy to carry, and easily hidden,
making them the most highly-trafficked
weapons in the world.

• It was designed in the Soviet Union Inow Russia) by Mikhai Kalashnikov.

He has said he wished he invented the lawnmower instead.
• It can fire 600 rounds a minute.
• Because it is so simple to manufacture, it has been produced in greater
numbers than any other 20th century assault rifle. There are an
estimated 70-100 million AK-47s in the world today.
• The African country of Mozambique features one on its flag.

'. ,

Think About It
1. Why do couAtriesfeel lt is necessary to spend so
much money or., arms?
2. Wha:t-wouid you do to restrJct the international
trade,of illegal arms?
3. Do you believe that weapo;ns are rieces.sary to
preserve pe:ace in the world?
 Spotlight on . . . 0 ,1/

World Oil Reserves by Region

Asia & Oceania
3%

Europe
1%

Middle East
56%

Africa currently holds less than 10% of the world's proven oil reserves, but
more and more oil is being discovered each year. The U.S., the world's largest
consumer of oil, already imports more than 15% of its oil from Africa. By
2020, that figure could reach 25%.

Oil is popularly known as "black gold"-so important and valuable to the

world that its discovery can create enormous wealth. That wealth has the
potential to improve life for everyone by funding new schools, hospitals, and
roads. Instead, many African countries that are oil-rich also suffer from the
"oil curse"-poor governance and corruption, pollution, high inflation
(rising prices), high crime rates, and even civil war.

135
 An oil refi nery at Ale sa -Eleme ne ar Por t Harcourt

Nigeria is Africa's largest oil producer-it has generated an estimated $600

billion worth of oil since the 1960s. However, reports from the World Bank
estimate that around 80% of Nigeria's oil and natural gas revenues go to just
1% of the population. Today, Nigeria remains one of the world's poorest
countries (Source: UNICEF).

Think A.bl>at It
1. Why do you think the discovery of oil can be a "curse~: for
a country's ge:neral population?
2. In our search for c~eap energy, what c,1ltern~1:ives do we
- ;;.

have to oil? , ' ,

·-
3. What problems can a country face. without a guar13:n.,l a?3d
energy supply? .k i'~'I •
,,,,1,

196
Glossary
briefcase (n.) a case used for carrying documents

cemetery (n.) a place where dead people's bodies or their

ashes are buried

dizzy (adj.) If you feel dizzy, you feel like you're losing
your balance and about to fall.

newsagent (n.) (Br. Eng.) a small store which sells

newspapers, magazines, sweets, and
cigarettes

Parliament Square (n.) a large open green area outside the Palace
of Westminster in London

Surrey (n.) an area in the South East of England

West End (n.) an area in Central London, England, which

contains many of the city's tourist
attractions, businesses, and entertainment
venues

Westminster (n.) an area in Central London where the seat of

government is

137
 '
tP
ISBN-13: 978-1-4240-4 ,
ISBN-10: 1-4240-4891- ~
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