Part 4
When they left the Department of Transport that evening, Ambassador Lambert said, "We have them on the defensive. Step one achieved."
He got out his cellular, dialled and spoke. "Mitch, it's Gladdy here. Listen, I need a ride over for me and my friend tomorrow returning on Thursday morning. Can you help me out?" he listened then spoke again. "Well if you have an extra room I'd be glad to take you up on your offer. See you tomorrow." Then he rang off. "Carry an overnight bag when you come in tomorrow. We will be travelling over to Tucson on my buddy Mitch's Cessna jet. He is also putting us up in his adobe." He grinned. "It pays to have a private villa in Tower Isle
to reciprocate." He dropped A.D. off at her hotel and encouraged her to get a lot of sleep, as the next day would be a long one.
She met him at the embassy early the next morning to find him reasoning with someone on the telephone. A.D. felt weak when she discovered that is was none other than the Permanent Secretary.
"P.S. you have to trust my instincts on this one,” Lambert was saying. “I really believe that we can make this work for us. All I am asking for is today to make the proposal be accepted. After that, I'll throw in the towel.”
The PS was apparently having none of it, for Lambert ended the conversation with, “As you say, Sir. Good day then P.S. Thank you." He turned to A.D.
"Somebody called the US embassy in Jamaica who called the Permanent Secretary and complained about us."
A.D.'s mouth dropped.
"Us? Am I in trouble?"
A.D. had to wait a few seconds on her answer during which time her entire vision of her career seemed to be disintegrating into dust and being blown away. He finally spoke.
"Not - yet. It depends on how well you do in Tucson this evening. I have to stay and sort all of this out."
Even as the thought of going on what sounded like an exciting assignment by herself thrilled her, good sense and reason prevailed in A.D.’s head. All she was to do on this assignment was handle documents and make sure that they reached back to Jamaica. What Lambert was up to she did not know, but based on what happened the day before, this was sure to be of line with the Ministry brief.
"Tucson! To go do what Ambassador? After I don’t know anybody there. No Sir!"
He scribbled something on a notepaper and gave it to her.
"Don't waste time whining A.D. It is a simple assignment. Here are the addresses. When you get to Tucson take a cab to Las Bougainvilleas, that is the name of Mitch's adobe. He won't be there, but Conchita will be expecting you. Change into something casual and take another taxi to Spa Caliente. The owner is my friend and she will be putting on a barbeque and guess who is invited." A.D. looked up.
"Ridley Humberto Ph.D.," he finished. "Ridley has not yet met anyone from this new administration. His funding grant may also have taken a hit. You need to corner Ridley and let him know that this deal is coming up. He may want to ask for funding for a dig in South Africa. I understand that they are finding a lot of amazing things down there."
"You are asking me to put my career on the line", wailed A.D. Lambert folded his arms and looked at her.
"That depends on how you look at the big picture. I'm merely asking you to fulfil your potential. A.D., who were some of the greatest diplomats the world has seen?”
“Huh Ambassador?”
He did not wait on her to think, and continued speaking.
“Do you think that they achieved what they did by pushing paper? Go out there girl, and give it your best shot." He counted $500 from his wallet and gave to her. “That's for expenses. It is about a seven-hour flight, so you should be in Tucson by six. Jackson will take you to the airport now. I'll call you tonight."
A.D. picked up her bag and met Jackson at the steps of the embassy. He drove her across town to the Ronald Reagan Airport. She went to the charter section and found the correct terminal. As she walked, she prayed for guidance.
"Father God. You take pity on the apostles on Galilee's stormy sea. Do hang with me now cause I not feeling too strong. Look upon this thy humble servant, and send a sign of your comforting presence". Ahead of her was a small private jet called "Arizona Wings," It belonged to Lambert’s friend Mitch and she was to meet the pilot there. As she approached it, the sound of someone whistling grew louder, and she recognised the tune. It was the renown Jamaican gospel singer Glacia Robinson's, "Hold My Hands Today". She followed the sound of the whistle into the craft and saw a young man checking dial readings in the cockpit.
"Excuse me," she said, and he looked around and smiled.
"Yes Ma'am, how can I help you?" It was a pure Jamaican voice; and to A.D.'s ears the most beautiful sound in the world.
"I am A.D. McDuff. I am supposed to be on this plane to Tucson."
He extended a hand.
"Well welcome aboard Ma'am. I'm Christopher Khemlani your pilot."
There was only one other person on that trip, Mitch's accountant, and he took a seat and promptly fell asleep. A.D. sat in front with Christopher while he prepared for takeoff and confessed that she was not used to flying.
He stopped fiddling with the dials and said: "I always ask for guidance before taking off. Would you like us to pray together?" She nodded and he said a brief heartfelt prayer for their safety and her comfort. Then as he revved the engines he grinned and added: "Well it can't hurt that my name is Christopher, after the patron saint of travellers."
A.D. smiled at the little joke and felt better.
Her nervousness gradually evaporated as she relaxed and enjoyed the sights of the world from the sky. Along the journey she learned that he was an ex-JDF Air Wing pilot who had left the force some two years ago when his US residency came through. He had been working with Mitch for about a year and said that he really enjoyed the experience so far. Although A.D. had just said a heartfelt word of prayer with Christopher, she felt no guilt pangs misleading him about her business. She told him that she was there on Ministry business. That it was a reception where a friend of the embassy had asked for a Jamaican presence, and that it should be finished within two hours. Christopher offered to take her to Las Bougainvilleas and she happily accepted.
When they left the Department of Transport that evening, Ambassador Lambert said, "We have them on the defensive. Step one achieved."
He got out his cellular, dialled and spoke. "Mitch, it's Gladdy here. Listen, I need a ride over for me and my friend tomorrow returning on Thursday morning. Can you help me out?" he listened then spoke again. "Well if you have an extra room I'd be glad to take you up on your offer. See you tomorrow." Then he rang off. "Carry an overnight bag when you come in tomorrow. We will be travelling over to Tucson on my buddy Mitch's Cessna jet. He is also putting us up in his adobe." He grinned. "It pays to have a private villa in Tower Isle
to reciprocate." He dropped A.D. off at her hotel and encouraged her to get a lot of sleep, as the next day would be a long one.
She met him at the embassy early the next morning to find him reasoning with someone on the telephone. A.D. felt weak when she discovered that is was none other than the Permanent Secretary.
"P.S. you have to trust my instincts on this one,” Lambert was saying. “I really believe that we can make this work for us. All I am asking for is today to make the proposal be accepted. After that, I'll throw in the towel.”
The PS was apparently having none of it, for Lambert ended the conversation with, “As you say, Sir. Good day then P.S. Thank you." He turned to A.D.
"Somebody called the US embassy in Jamaica who called the Permanent Secretary and complained about us."
A.D.'s mouth dropped.
"Us? Am I in trouble?"
A.D. had to wait a few seconds on her answer during which time her entire vision of her career seemed to be disintegrating into dust and being blown away. He finally spoke.
"Not - yet. It depends on how well you do in Tucson this evening. I have to stay and sort all of this out."
Even as the thought of going on what sounded like an exciting assignment by herself thrilled her, good sense and reason prevailed in A.D.’s head. All she was to do on this assignment was handle documents and make sure that they reached back to Jamaica. What Lambert was up to she did not know, but based on what happened the day before, this was sure to be of line with the Ministry brief.
"Tucson! To go do what Ambassador? After I don’t know anybody there. No Sir!"
He scribbled something on a notepaper and gave it to her.
"Don't waste time whining A.D. It is a simple assignment. Here are the addresses. When you get to Tucson take a cab to Las Bougainvilleas, that is the name of Mitch's adobe. He won't be there, but Conchita will be expecting you. Change into something casual and take another taxi to Spa Caliente. The owner is my friend and she will be putting on a barbeque and guess who is invited." A.D. looked up.
"Ridley Humberto Ph.D.," he finished. "Ridley has not yet met anyone from this new administration. His funding grant may also have taken a hit. You need to corner Ridley and let him know that this deal is coming up. He may want to ask for funding for a dig in South Africa. I understand that they are finding a lot of amazing things down there."
"You are asking me to put my career on the line", wailed A.D. Lambert folded his arms and looked at her.
"That depends on how you look at the big picture. I'm merely asking you to fulfil your potential. A.D., who were some of the greatest diplomats the world has seen?”
“Huh Ambassador?”
He did not wait on her to think, and continued speaking.
“Do you think that they achieved what they did by pushing paper? Go out there girl, and give it your best shot." He counted $500 from his wallet and gave to her. “That's for expenses. It is about a seven-hour flight, so you should be in Tucson by six. Jackson will take you to the airport now. I'll call you tonight."
A.D. picked up her bag and met Jackson at the steps of the embassy. He drove her across town to the Ronald Reagan Airport. She went to the charter section and found the correct terminal. As she walked, she prayed for guidance.
"Father God. You take pity on the apostles on Galilee's stormy sea. Do hang with me now cause I not feeling too strong. Look upon this thy humble servant, and send a sign of your comforting presence". Ahead of her was a small private jet called "Arizona Wings," It belonged to Lambert’s friend Mitch and she was to meet the pilot there. As she approached it, the sound of someone whistling grew louder, and she recognised the tune. It was the renown Jamaican gospel singer Glacia Robinson's, "Hold My Hands Today". She followed the sound of the whistle into the craft and saw a young man checking dial readings in the cockpit.
"Excuse me," she said, and he looked around and smiled.
"Yes Ma'am, how can I help you?" It was a pure Jamaican voice; and to A.D.'s ears the most beautiful sound in the world.
"I am A.D. McDuff. I am supposed to be on this plane to Tucson."
He extended a hand.
"Well welcome aboard Ma'am. I'm Christopher Khemlani your pilot."
There was only one other person on that trip, Mitch's accountant, and he took a seat and promptly fell asleep. A.D. sat in front with Christopher while he prepared for takeoff and confessed that she was not used to flying.
He stopped fiddling with the dials and said: "I always ask for guidance before taking off. Would you like us to pray together?" She nodded and he said a brief heartfelt prayer for their safety and her comfort. Then as he revved the engines he grinned and added: "Well it can't hurt that my name is Christopher, after the patron saint of travellers."
A.D. smiled at the little joke and felt better.
Her nervousness gradually evaporated as she relaxed and enjoyed the sights of the world from the sky. Along the journey she learned that he was an ex-JDF Air Wing pilot who had left the force some two years ago when his US residency came through. He had been working with Mitch for about a year and said that he really enjoyed the experience so far. Although A.D. had just said a heartfelt word of prayer with Christopher, she felt no guilt pangs misleading him about her business. She told him that she was there on Ministry business. That it was a reception where a friend of the embassy had asked for a Jamaican presence, and that it should be finished within two hours. Christopher offered to take her to Las Bougainvilleas and she happily accepted.
