Notes:
1. Schoolhouse Rock -- I hope I'm not the only one who remembers it.
2. I'm quite pleased with this chapter. Please let me know if you are as well, or if I'm a major disappointment.
3. So, the Penguins -- looking pretty good, right! Ah, sports are back in the 'Burgh!
Chapter XII
The knock at the door came at 6:30 in the evening. "Room service."
Plunder sat contentedly at the small table in the luxury hotel suite. After several weeks of roughing it in Africa, the swanky Georgetown accommodations were certainly proving more adequate. He glanced down at his watch and noted the ivory minute hand was hovering over the 6.
Another knock. Another pleasant yet more insistent "Room service!"
Plunder looked over at his compatriot who was arranging bullets by size, weight, and death toll on the nearby desk. "Bleak, why don't you answer the door?"
The bald man stood up slowly, mumbling something about never being able to find the right bloody bullet when he needed it. He threw open the suite door. "Yeah?"
A small, cheerful-looking man in a neat gray uniform looked back at him. "Uh…" the man began, clearly startled by Bleak's overbearing presence. "I have room service for this suite? Let's see…" he produced a list from among the neatly-arranged silver-topped dishes. "Two bottles of Dom Perignon, three Ankola cattle steaks, one medium, one mid-rare, one mooing…" The man gave a small laugh, but seeing that Bleak was unamused, cleared his throat and continued: "A large side of truffles, and three Cuban cigars." The man replaced the list and grinned up at Bleak expectantly. "Total's $750," he raised his eyebrows, "plus gratuity."
Bleak regarded the man silently until the smaller man's self-assured smile faded and he looked down uncomfortably.
The muscle-man called out. "Right. Mr. Plunder? This fellow says we got to pay him 750 smackers," he glared at the man condescendingly. "Plus gratuity."
Plunder pushed away from the table where he'd been swirling his Bombay and tonic. "Is that right, Bleak? Then I suppose we should pay him…" He walked to the door, and then glanced at his watch again. "Oh," he said, holding out the expensive timepiece for the hotel worker to see. "Look at that. I'm afraid you were due to deliver our food at 6:30 on the dot. Is that right?"
"Well…yes," the man started, looking at his own watch. 6:32.
"Then you see we have a problem, my fine young man," Plunder continued, "for my watch says 6:32. That's a bit past 6:30, isn't it?"
"Well…yes," stammered the man again, "but when I knocked, it was…"
Bleak made a tsk-tsk noise with his tongue. "I wouldn't stand for it, Mr. Plunder. This hotel should be grateful for your business and not send your room service late."
"Yes, it does seem as though good help is exceedingly hard to find these days." He patted his bodyguard's shoulder. "Present company excepted, Bleak."
Bleak sneered. "But what about him?" he asked, gesturing to the man now fidgeting nervously with his tie."
Plunder addressed the man. "This is a reputable hotel, is it not?"
"Oh yes," the man responded, "one of the best!"
"Then I would believe that the management, being reasonable representatives of this reputable establishment would not expect a valued guest to pay for such a tardy meal."
The man's face fell. "Please, sir," he pleaded quietly, "I'll lose my job over this bill."
Plunder shrugged. "I am a successful businessman. I know that paying for unsatisfactory goods or services is not good practice. Your self-imposed misfortune is none of my affair. Good night, young man."
The worker opened his mouth, and then closed it. His face was red as tears threatened in his eyes. With his head down, he slowly began to push the cart of food away from the suite until he heard a voice behind him.
"Oi!"
He looked back to see Bleak still standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. "Where do you think you're taking all that?"
The man looked down at his cart in confusion. "But, I thought…I thought you didn't…" He sighed and pushed the cart back to the suite.
Once Bleak had ushered the cart in and resolutely flipped the door tag to read Do Not Disturb, the young man walked dejectedly down the hallway, weighing future employment options.
XXXXX
DC was beautiful at night.
As he guided the Geo Cruiser closer to the capital city, Kwame took in the grandeur of the place. This was his first time flying in at night and he was amazed at the scene before him. The Washington Monument stood like a lightning rod, illuminated with bright, white light. Just beyond, the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial continued the line of illumination. All around, light reflected off the delicate flowers of the cherry blossom trees. A gift from Japan, Kwame remembered. A beautiful symbol of international peace and harmony.
And yet, he knew just beyond his view, within shouting range of the steps where Martin Luther King, Jr. had spoke of his dream, the darkness was providing cover for a multitude of crimes. People were being mugged, robbed, and shot in the darkness of DC at night. Such a contradiction of the hope that the city symbolized for many people.
He sighed and looked over to Gi, who was sitting next to him. While everyone else was sleeping or reading quietly, the Asian girl was full of energy. She was nervously glancing at herself in her compact mirror, arranging her hair and applying and re-applying various lip-glosses. Kwame had never seen the girl preen so intently. He shook his head, amused.
Gi caught his smirk and grinned back at him sheepishly. "I'm pretty bad, huh?"
Kwame laughed quietly. "He must be quite special. I have never seen you so excited. At least, not over something that was truly your business for once!"
The girl gave a look of mock hurt. "Ouch! A little rude there, o fearless leader!" But she could not keep herself from sneaking a look over the top of her headrest at the others. Ma-Ti had fallen asleep with Ashra on his lap, clutching a teddy bear. Mfuto tossed fitfully, struggling through his tortured sleep. Poor guy, thought Gi.
That left Linka and Wheeler. Both of them were awake. Both sported white ear buds attached to iPods. Linka had a book open; Wheeler seemed interested in looking out the window and sulking. Again.
Gi turned back around and looked over at Kwame. She gave a dramatic thumbs down.
"That bad?" asked Kwame.
Gi sighed laboriously. "I just don't get it. You know, we've all known each other for five years, and in that time, we've all been out on dates. And usually, we just tease each other, like family. I mean…Alyssa?"
Kwame gave his friend a threatening look. "Do not start," he warned.
"What were you thinking?" she teased gently. She then shook her head. "But it's a nightmare when one of them goes on a date. Linka just fumes and Wheeler seems ready to punch the walls!"
"He did, once," Kwame reminded her. Linka had been invited to a ball to raise money for the Audubon Society. Wheeler had noticed the neckline of the dress she was wearing and managed to add a new window to his hut.
"Yeah, exactly!" Gi exclaimed. "I just don't like what it does to them. To all of us. It's got to stop soon, or else I'll do something drastic, like locking them in the closet or spiking their drinks, or…"
"You know we are about to land, right, Gi?" Kwame interrupted.
The girl gasped and grabbed her compact, flashing pout into the small mirror.
Kwame shook his head again and brought the Cruiser in for a landing.
XXXXX
Union Station was jumping for a weekday night. Official-looking businessmen were walking briskly through the halls towards the trains and metro tracks below. People meandered in and out of shops toting plastic bags loaded with souvenirs. The coffee shops were packed with locals, tourists, and tired travelers, discussing Iraq and Anna Nicole Smith over non-fat, half-caff, double hot mocha lattes. With whipped cream.
The activity swirled around Kim, who sat in the main hall. He steepled his fingers and drummed them together, anxious for the first sign of the Planeteers. There was much to discuss, they had so much to do. And while he tried to convince himself that his excitement was just willingness to get the process of prosecuting Plunder underway, his ulterior motive hugged and kissed him in his mind's eye.
Kim was startled from his thoughts by a tapping sensation on the top of his head. He ignored it, yet seconds later, he felt it again. He placed a hand on his head and noticed his hair was damp. The drops were coming more quickly now and Kim looked up to notice a sprinkler dripping above him. One last drop touched his upturned face. It landed on his lips, like a kiss.
Gi.
Sure enough, Kim turned around to see the young woman behind him with her ring positioned towards the sprinkler. She laughed delightedly and ran towards him.
They embraced ferociously as the others hung back to allow the couple a private greeting. Wheeler glanced from the amorous duo to Linka, who was examining the floor at her feet. He waited until he caught her eye, and then looked away. Immature, sure. But he would bet money that it would piss her off.
Kim was holding Gi tightly. "I have missed you so much!" he said.
"Me too," replied Gi, "I've missed you too."
He sighed and pressed his lips against her forehead. "You know, we have got a lot to do. There is so much I need to tell you about."
"I know," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "but for now, can you just shut up and hold me?"
Kim laughed and decided he'd hold her as long as she wanted.
XXXXX
Eventually, they all made their way to a coffee shop – fair trade, Ma-Ti had noted happily. After settling Ashra in a seat with a hot chocolate, they found a large table and began strategizing.
"My boss had to pull some strings," Kim was saying, "but we'll be able to attend a hearing on Darfur in the Senate Chamber tomorrow. They are debating a bill known as S. 199 with a rider clause dealing with labor practices in Africa."
"So, what's the plan?" asked Wheeler, playing with his now-empty mochaccino cup. "I mean, what's the deal with the bill? 'Cause the way it goes is, a bill gets voted on in the Senate, then it's either vetoed or it's approved by the president. Then it becomes a law."
The others gaped at him. Wheeler was explaining the legislative process? But the American just shrugged. "You know, it's like," he cleared his throat, then sang quietly, "Oh, I hope and pray that they will, but today, I am still Just A Bill…"
At the others' uncomprehending silence, he continued weakly, "Sittin' here on Capitol Hill?" Getting no reaction, he folded his arms and frowned. "Forget it. You guys suck."
Ma-Ti turned back to Kim. "Anyway. What does the bill involve?"
Kim opened his laptop to retrieve the information. "We believe that it is meant to eliminate labor regulation of American businesses in Africa. If the bill were approved, which the president seems ready to do, American entrepreneurs would not have to adhere to American laws when operating in Africa. Things that are illegal here…"
"Like poaching and sweatshops?" offered Gi, starting to get the picture.
"…would be OK in Africa," Kim finished.
"Bozhe moy," gasped Linka, with a look of disgust. "How could anyone approve such a measure?"
"Well, I talked with someone in the labor department who said that this guy Rick – he's the senator sponsoring this. And guess who his biggest financial contributor is."
"Plunder," Kwame said, angrily.
Mfuto had been sitting quietly, observing the situation. He did not really know much about politics and he felt a bit out of his depth. His attention was drawn to Ashra. The little girl was swinging her legs in the large chair, trying, with some difficulty, to drink her hot chocolate. She would attempt a sip, make a face as the beverage burned her tongue, then put the cup down and glare at it.
He had not been able to save his wife – the woman who had been his rock for years. He regretted not being able to tell her how much he loved her, how much he cherished her. He thought of the tiny white bundle by his wife's bedside in the midwives' tent.
Ashra finally managed a good sip of hot chocolate. She looked happily towards Mfuto and gave him a chocolaty grin.
"What about in Africa?" he asked quietly.
The others fell silent as Mfuto spoke up for the first time. They looked at him with obvious surprise. The man had not said a word since leaving Hope Island.
"What do you mean, 'What about in Africa'?" Wheeler demanded. He still didn't trust this guy.
"You spoke of how this bill would make it legal for Americans to operate illegal business in Africa," he said, addressing Kim.
Kim nodded, "Yes, essentially."
Mfuto held up his hand. "But that assumes that the practices would be accepted in Africa. That they would have to be legal there, correct?"
"Correct."
"The people of Chad are not fools. They do not want to see animals killed for pelts nor do they want to see children in forced labor. They simply make do with what they feel are necessary conditions."
"So," began Kwame, "if we could create a backlash against such practices in Africa…"
"Then no matter what Plunder does, he will be unsuccessful," concluded Mfuto.
Kwame nodded, regarding Mfuto with a new respect, "Then Mfuto and I will go to Africa to work from there. Ma-Ti, you come too. We may have need of your Heart power."
Ma-Ti jumped to his feet. "Right."
"You could use support," said Kim, already typing on his laptop. "I can have a contingency of workers from AI and Medecins Sans Frontieres to meet you in Chad. Let the people know there is hope beyond sweatshops."
Kwame smiled at Kim and then at Gi, who was watching him proudly. Nice choice, Gi, he thought. "Excellent. The rest of you will stay here and prepare of the hearing. We will attack this issue on two fronts." He looked to Ashra, whose face had become a milky mess. "And we cannot afford to lose."
The others walked Kwame, Ma-Ti, and Mfuto to the Geo Cruiser to wish them luck. As they waited for Kwame to prepare the vehicle, Wheeler regarded Mfuto warily. "It was a good idea you had, man," he said, "but if you cause trouble again, I swear to God, I will not hold back."
Mfuto looked down, accepting his distrust. "I understand. Although I have nothing to gain by betraying you. I have lost everything." He breathed deeply as the memory of his wife filled his mind again. "You are a young man. You have so much in your life. You have a woman you love?"
Wheeler stared at him, startled. It was his turn to look down, self-consciously. "Yeah."
Mfuto placed a hand on his shoulder as Wheeler again met his gaze. "Be sure that she knows. Be sure you let her know the feelings in your heart." Tears were welling in Mfuto's eyes. "Because time is short, my friend. And what you thought was eternity can end so quickly."
He patted Wheeler's shoulder once again before climbing into the Cruiser and departing for Africa with Kwame and Ma-Ti.
With Gi and Kim arm-in-arm, Wheeler hung back with Linka, who was obviously still not speaking to him. He took his time looking at her, taking in every bit of her beauty until he noticed her blush, but still said nothing.
I love you, he thought, trying out the phrase in his mind.
I love you.
I love you, Linka.
He sighed. He hoped someday he'd manage to say it out loud.