Christopher Golde
Chapter twenty four
The Witness
Date: 9th June 1996
Location: Sydney, Australia
Pietta Chong was no stranger to these types of events; in fact, it was at these that she landed most of her big deals. She knew the IT industry better than most and she had a reputation for getting the contracts that everyone else only dreamed of.
The software company Macram was one of her biggest clients and she had heard that a super big deal was brewing between them and the Japanese hardware giant Futuretronics. When her invitation had arrived at the Australian launch of Futuretronics, she knew it would be an ideal time to introduce her skills to the new company in town and see what she could find out that could be to her advantage in the future.
A restaurant on the north shore of Circular Quay had been converted for the occasion and the usual well known IT crowd, plus a few local politicians, made up the bulk of the guest list. As she mingled, she made her way towards one of the glass walls that looked out towards the world-famous Sydney Opera House.
At last, she had a moment to herself and indulged it by staring out at the impressive Sydney central shoreline. The sky above was clear and an almost perfectly circular full moon had positioned itself out over the water, radiating soft incandescence onto the slightly choppy surface of the bay.
Her mind drifted for a second, allowing her the privilege of escape out over the sparkling waters and off to a place far away from the bustling room. She remembered once sharing a moment like this with someone very special in her life and just for the briefest instant felt a twinge of regret. She wondered in that short split second where he would be now and who he might be with. It had been some months since they had last seen each other and her intense lifestyle usually shielded her from these types of what she considered self-indulgent doubts.
As slowly her consciousness returned to the constant hum of the party, she noticed that someone was actually holding onto her arm.
Turning, she found herself staring directly into two of the most engaging deep ocean green eyes that she had ever seen. She knew that the owner of them was saying something to her but momentarily her focus was captivated inattention to his physical detail. His hair was blonde, but not too blonde, more like a soft golden brown; his facial features were firm but gentle and slightly aquiline, maybe even Nordic and his complexion was almost hauntingly too pale as if all the blood had been drained from it.
“Sorry,” she heard him say, in a deep rich voice, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She looked absently down at her arm, as if she were still a million miles away, then looked up again to his face and all of a sudden realized how vague she must look.
“No, that’s alright,” she said, trying to regain her composure, “I was just admiring the beauty of the view and my mind drifted off.”
“Yes, it is absolutely awesome,” he said, rescuing her from her own explanation, “I work in that building over there that looks out onto the water and even though I see it every day, it still mesmerizes me when I sit there looking at it.”
She smiled.
‘Who is this guy?’ she thought to herself ‘I don’t think I have ever felt such an attraction to anyone, which is crazy, I have heard him say one thing, looked into those eyes and already I’m telling myself I feel attracted to him.’
“My name is Jason King,” he continued, and held out his hand to her, “I have a small IT company and as I have said it is just over there in that building.”
She put her hand into his, noticing how warm and soft it was, ‘Wow,’ she thought, ‘he is so soft and gentle for a man; he must be gay.’
‘I am Pietta Chong,” she replied with a smile, “and I’m a consultant in the IT industry.”
“The Pietta Chong,” he looked genuinely impressed, “I am honoured to meet you, you’re a legend.”
She blushed and shrugged.
“And sincerely modest, I am doubly impressed,” he said with a broad smile, and she laughed.
“I don’t know about a legend,” she replied with a vain attempt at modesty. She worked hard to get her reputation and it was something she was fiercely proud of.
“Well from what I hear, companies like Macram don’t even win deals here in Australia without you and that’s pretty impressive,” he continued, as if in an attempt to win her over with flattery, “so is Futuretronics next on your list of conquests, or are you here for Macram?”
“Bit of both,” she replied, not wanting to seem too much like the hunter to someone she had just met.
“Would you like a drink,” he offered?
“Yes thank you, champagne please,” she smiled, “and while you are getting that I will just go and freshen up.”
“See you back here then,” he returned her smile.
“It’s a date,” and she moved away towards the ladies room, touching his arm gently as she passed.
‘He was definitely cute,’ she thought, as she walked off not daring to look back and give away the fact she could be interested, ‘scary, but cute.’
The ladies toilet room was empty when she entered and she was relieved to see, spotlessly clean.
She found a stall that seemed unused since its last clean, entered, locked the door, hung her bag on the hook at the back of the door then began her ritual cleaning and preparation. This involved taking several long strips of toilet tissue, wiping the seat meticulously then arranging tissue paper as a cover to sit on, even though she knew her skin would never even come close to making any sort of contact with it.
While she was preparing, she heard the entrance to the restroom open and footsteps enter. At first, she continued with her meticulous sanitary routine, but when she heard voices speaking in Japanese she stopped. Normally she wouldn’t have taken too much notice, but she was sure one sounded like a male voice.
Pietta could fluently speak five languages and Japanese was one of them, so she stopped and listened, curious as to why there would be a man in the female toilets.
“Where is he now,” the male voice asked with some impatience?
“He is in the safe house as you requested master,” the female voice replied subserviently, “he is waiting for your instructions and will not leave until he hears from you.”
“Does he know what I want him to do,” the male demanded?
“Yes master,” she replied obediently, “as soon as you send word, he will go to America, meet with you, where he will assume his cover as one of your aides. He already has all the necessary documentation and a false passport in the name of a translator that is in your employ. He will then participate in your meeting with Gatwick Sun and later follow him home and assassinate him.”
The girl finished talking and Pietta remained frozen to the spot, listening in disbelief, the toilet tissue still hanging limply in her hands. She knew immediately that she would be in danger if they found out she was there. The man spoke again, this time softer and more controlled.
“You have done well,” he said to her, “have you told anyone elsewhere he is hiding or any part of this plan?”
“No Master,” she replied immediately.
“Are you sure,” he repeated?
“Master, I would never disobey your instructions,” she repeated, earnestly and with an element of fear.
There was silence for what seemed like an eternity; she dared not even breathe. She could see a small space, between the cubicle door and the wall. She edged forward, slowly putting her eye right up to the join. In a reflection on the wall mirrors opposite, she could see clearly the two standing at the end of the cubicle row.
She almost gasped audibly when she realized that the male voice was Ieko Fujimo, the head of Futuretronics. Although she had only met him just this night when she arrived, she had seen his photo in magazine articles and newspapers enough times to recognize him, even in a somewhat distorted reflection.
He was standing an arm’s length from a girl with long, dark, straight hair to her waist, who was dressed all in black. The girl’s head was bowed slightly and Fujimo was much taller than her.
“My flower petal,” he continued to speak, “you have done very well and you will indeed earn a seat next to the master for your loyalty.”
With these words, he raised his arm and placed his hand on the head of the girl as if to offer a gesture of affection. The girl raised her eyes and looked at him and Pietta thought she could see a faint smile coming across her face.
“You may go now,” Fujimo said to her as he stood there with his hand on her head.
Pietta was about to sigh with relief when in one shocking moment, the unbelievable happened. There was a twanging noise and at the rear of the girls head, a long, shiny blade appeared, coated in streaks of red. The girl’s body went rigid for a split second and her arms raised and straightened in unison.
Fujimo remained standing there, erect, his arm outstretched. The girl began to slump, her legs collapsing beneath the weight of her body. As if in slow motion, Pietta saw the girl fall towards the ground. Her head did not drop directly downwards to the floor, but slid obscenely and excruciatingly slowly, backward, along the line of the long slender blade that was protruding from her eye.
It was at that moment, when the body of the girl finally slumped to the ground, that Pietta’s mind was able to accept what her eyes had seen.
‘Oh my God!’ her senses screamed as her hand covered her mouth and the bile lifted from her stomach to the back of her throat. All of her senses reeled, as she realized that the blade protruding from the arm of Fujimo had penetrated the girls head, killing her instantly. Pietta gasped uncontrollably in horror.
It was only a small gasp, but it had been enough sound to make Fujimo look around in the direction of the cubicles. She pulled back quickly. She could hear footsteps slowly approaching on the tiled floor of the comfort room. He was coming. Her heart immediately began to pound in her chest and blood rushed to her head loaded with adrenaline.
‘What can I do?’
“He who leads into captivity shall go into captivity;
he who kills with the sword must be killed with the sword.”
John: Revelation 13.10 -New Testament