The Prime Minister's Daughter Page 10

  Chapter 10

   

  Kevin's mind went into a tailspin. What is Obatala up to? Did he lure me here to kill me? But why did he take me to the prime minister’s residence? That doesn’t make any sense. Wait a minute, of course, he must have known the guard would chase me away. He knew there were no hotel rooms at the Hilton. It was all a scheme to gain my trust so I wouldn’t resist.

  "Oh, shit. I'm a dead man! Oh, God, I can't believe this."

  Kevin fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He remembered seeing a telephone in the living room. Perhaps he could sneak in there and make a phone call. Then he realized he wouldn't know who to call. Obviously, they didn't have 9-1-1. He wouldn't know how to explain where he was anyway. Besides, several of the kids must sleep in the living room. It would be rather difficult to get in there and make a phone call without being detected.

   Kevin finally decided to push the bureau in front of the door, so no one could get in during the night without waking him up. After he had done that, he searched the room for weapons. All he could find was a cricket bat so he placed it on the bed next to him. He was determined to stay awake all night, but he was so tired he started to doze off almost immediately. His head fell to the side momentarily, until he caught himself and straightened up. He rubbed his eyes and then stretched, trying to stay awake. Suddenly, he heard someone walking in the hallway in front of his room. He got up and grabbed the cricket bat, ready to do combat.

   His eyes were glued on the doorknob, but it didn't move. He finally decided no one was coming in, so he sat back down on the bed. He looked at the window and suddenly realized he was a sitting duck for a gunman looking in from the outside. Quickly, he rolled off the bed onto the floor. He pulled off the bedspread and laid it out to sleep on. Then he took a pillow and laid back, wondering if he'd make it through the night. He finally succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep.

   The next morning, Kevin woke up with a headache and a sharp pain in his back. He looked around the room momentarily disoriented. Then the memory of his perilous predicament started to come back. He sat up quickly and looked around. The bureau was still in front of the door, so it was apparent to him that no one had tried to enter during the night.

   After considerable deliberation, Kevin decided he had no choice but to let Obatala play his cards. If he had wanted to kill him, he could have already done it. Besides, if he were going to kill him, he certainly wouldn't do it in front of his wife and children. After putting the bureau back in its place and straightening the room, Kevin opened the door.

  The aroma of sizzling bacon was in the air. Kevin walked cautiously out of the bedroom, down a short hallway and into the kitchen. Cetawayo was in the process of cooking breakfast. She smiled at Kevin when she saw him.

   "Did you sleep well, Mr. Kevin?"

   "Pretty well," he said forcing a smile. He scanned the room quickly.

   "Good. I understand you've got a big day ahead."

   "I don't know. I'm not so sure anymore. I may go back to Texas if the Prime Minister doesn't get his act together."

   "Come, sit down. Are you hungry?"

   He nodded. "Yes, famished."

   Kevin sat down and Cetawayo set a plate in front of him. As he started to eat, Obatala walked in the room. Kevin looked up. Okay, now what? Do I confront you or play dumb? What in the hell do you want with me?

  “Ah ha, you’re up,” Obatala noted.

  "Yes. Good morning," Kevin said.

  Obatala smiled broadly. "Yes, isn't it. How do you feel? Did you get a good night’s sleep?"

  "Pretty good."

  “How is your breakfast?”

  Kevin looked at Cetawayo and smiled. “Very good. I wasn’t expecting an American breakfast.”

  “Well, Cetawayo wanted you to feel at home.”

  Kevin’s head began to throb. He rubbed his temples.

  “Are you okay?” Obatala asked.

  Kevin looked up. "I guess,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Listen, you don’t have to pretend anymore. . . . I saw the picture of your brother in his room. I know who he is. So, obviously, my being here isn't by chance, is it?"

  Obatala looked anxiously at Cetawayo. She turned and walked back to the sink. He took a deep breath and looked back at Kevin. “Okay,” he said as he sat down next to him. He began in a low voice. "I want to apologize for tricking you into coming to my house, but I had no choice. I had to talk to you before you met with the police."

  "Why?"

  "It's my brother, Ray Mohammed. I know you're here to identify him as the person who shot you and tried to kill the Prime Minister."

  "How did you know that?"

  "The government is not very good at keeping secrets, I'm afraid. There was a story about you coming here two weeks ago. I checked with some friends in the Attorney General's office and they told me it was true."

  "So, what was so important that you had to kidnap me? Why didn't you just write me a letter?"

  "My brother is a good man. He has a great wife and wonderful children."

  "So wonderful he tried to assassinate the Prime Minister, not to mention shooting me in the process."

  "You don't understand. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow Ray got involved with the NDC. It's a radical party that thrives on anti-American propaganda. Its leaders are ruthless scoundrels that would just as soon slit your throat as shake your hand."

  "Yeah, I've heard of them."

  "They don't believe in democracy. They have no morality. They will do whatever it takes to take over the government so they can create a dictatorship. Ray fell for their propaganda that several big U.S. companies controlled Trinidad and Tobago and that the Caribbean Free Trade Agreement would only help increase America's stronghold on the economy. He was brainwashed into thinking that by killing the Prime Minister, he would be saving the country from American imperialism. My brother is very impressionable and very naive. He was chosen for the job because he was an expert marksman in the army."

  "So you think, by bringing me here and telling me all this, that I'd feel sorry for Ray and his family and fail to recognize him when I saw him in the lineup?"

  "Something like that."

  "Well, despite everything that has happened, I like you, Obatala. You seem like a decent man and you've got a good wife and nice kids, but I can't lie to the police to protect your brother. It wouldn’t be right. I feel bad that he has ruined his life for a bunch of hoodlums, but there’s nothing I can do about that."

  "Please, Kevin. The Prime Minister wasn't killed. You've recovered from your injuries. Now you are a quite famous lad. Would it hurt to let Ray go? He just made a mistake. Please give him a chance."

  "You're asking me to commit perjury and risk going to prison myself? Why should I do that? It would be stupid on my part."

  "You don't have to lie, just tell them you're not sure if he's the one. No one can fault you if your memory is not perfect."

  "Stop the lying!" Cetawayo screamed. "Why don't you just tell Kevin the truth?"

  Kevin looked at Cetawayo.

  "If you don't tell him, I will. . . . I'm so sorry, Kevin, to have to tell you this. Obatala was sent to pick you up and to take you to Ray, so he and his friends could kill you. He only went along with it because he knew if he didn't pick you up, someone else would. He figured he could hide you here. He knew Ray wouldn't kill you in front of me and the children."

  Kevin just looked at Obatala. Then he shook his head, pushed out his chair and stood up.

  "I think it's time you took me to the American Embassy. I'm sorry about your brother. I really am, but he's a grown man and he's responsible for his actions. I appreciate the fact that you protected me from him, but do you really want him to get away with what he's done? I don't think you do."

  "Are you going to turn me in for kidnaping you?"

  Kevin smiled and replied, "What do you mean? You took me into your home when I couldn't find lodging. You fed me and e
ntertained me. That's hardly kidnaping. I am curious though–how you managed to get me here a day early."

  "It was simple. Anyone can call the airlines and cancel reservations."

  "Right."

  "Well, I called the airlines and canceled your reservations. Then I bought you a new ticket for a day earlier. Do you remember getting the new tickets in the mail?"

  "Yeah, there was a letter from the Attorney General saying the dates of the trip had been altered slightly, and that these were my new tickets."

  "See how easy it was? I just made up a letterhead and signed the Attorney General's name."

  "That's incredible."

  "I just wish I could have stopped Ray from going to Dallas. I tried, but he wouldn't listen. His heart is so full of hatred. I worry about his children."

  "Luckily, they'll have you to raise them. They may be better off without your brother."

  Obatala didn't respond, but only hung his head. Kevin left the room to get his luggage. Before he left, he thanked Cetawayo for her hospitality and said goodbye to the children. It took about twenty minutes for Obatala to get through rush hour traffic and make it to the American Embassy. Obatala dropped Kevin off a block away and drove away. Kevin walked down the street and into the embassy, hoping his second day in Trinidad would be a vast improvement over his first. If it wasn't, he vowed to be on the next plane back to America.