CHAPTER FIFTEEN

April 2 2001

John Mutabe was having his problems. As a part of his loyalty, he had to enter the zoo and grab one of the white lions. That required a large van, several coils of rope, and a tranquilizer gun. Isaiah said he was busy. Fortunately John had help or rather Isaiah still did not trust him.

The helper was a tall man, rather skinny, with a decided scar on his face. "You have come along progressively," he said to John and smiled, showing his white teeth. "You wait while I get the lions."

"Shouldn't I help? Your boss said it was my job."

The tall man shrugged. "I always get the lions. Just be sure the back is opened. You can call me Matthew." He started off.

Meanwhile John glanced around, looking for a telephone booth. True he had a cell phone, but Isaiah had given him only a twenty-minute card and he dared not use it. The contract was under Butato's name, the cell phones given to each man, each call recorded as to minutes and location. He started to dance around, jumping up and down, holding his privates.

"Oh," said the tall man with a laugh and pointed towards a building near the phone booth. "There's one in there or you can use the side of the building."

"Thanks," said John and ran off, still with his hands on front of his fly. He ran for a bit, stopped and pressed his legs together, bending over, his eyes glancing left to right until he spotted the familiar half booth. He rushed into the men's washroom that Matthew had indicated, counted two seconds, ran the water in the washbasin, pressed a dab of liquid soap into the basin, and grabbed a paper towel that he dipped in the water, crumbled up into the trash bin, opening up the door just a shade..

Seeing the skinny man otherwise occupied, he then rushed to the phone booth, put in his quarter, and made the call to VCTF. He remained on the telephone long enough to hear Bailey shouting, "but don't kill him. The Kenyan government—" before he saw Isaiah walk over from the other direction dressed in what appeared to be his best suit.

John changed his expression to that of annoyance as Isaiah closed in on him. "She is? How long is she staying there, Harold Kutanga?" he asked, making sure that the leader of the Sect of the White Lion heard the name.

"Well if you weren't jumping in bed with every woman you meet, she wouldn't be with me," said Bailey, handing the phone to Grace who said, "John is it you?"

"Yes it's me. I didn't expect you to be staying at Harold's. I thought you were doing the party scene."

"Who were you talking to?" Isaiah demanded.

John explained, "A girl friend of mine, at least I thought she was my girl friend until I heard her in the background. I thought you were going to the Kutumbe Club. I was just phoning a friend of mine who worked at the Embassy to find if anyone discovered the lions missing."

Isaiah grabbed the telephone. ""There wasn't. I made sure of that and you're supposed to be watching the van," he snarled while listening to the speaker on the other end.

"I met Harold at an embassy party —imagine him here in New York, so he invited me to stay with him," said a woman's voice

Isaiah smiled, winked a bit at John as he handed him back the phone and whispered, "You' d better tell me your secret. Now finish your conversation and say good-bye, but no mention to our cargo to the lady."

"The reason I called was that I hoped that I thought we could get back to what we once had," said John to the other caller in a voice that reeked of insincerity, "I know I've been a cad, breaking all our dates and that stuff, but I've changed. I really have.".

"Sorry, but I should've told you that Harold and I are an item. I've forgotten all about you. Boy I am beginning to sound American! An item! I guess I better sound off."

"Good luck to Harold." He put down the receiver with a sigh that spoke of disappointment and relief.

"How many girl friends do you have by the way?" asked Isaiah., "And zip up your pants. You really must have an imagination."

John blushed. "Thanks," he said, thinking of the dossier the VCTF had given him that listed numerous made up girlfriends in case he needed an alibi, and wishing he were so lucky

"Oh was that Delia?" asked Isaiah, remembering one of the many names John mentioned.

John ran through a list in his head. He had to make this one unattainable. "No, Delia's in San Francisco. She works as a nanny. This one's Olivia. Dad's half Brit., Mum's Italian mixed race. He's got quite a large bank account, but he'd prefer his daughter marry an Oxford man. We've been going out on the sly."

.
Isaiah smiled and yawned, patting him on the back. "I know someone who forges University certificates. I think you and I are going to be best friends. Oh, do you know how to switch license plates?"

"Yes."

"Well because you have to. It's almost time. I'm off to the Kutumbe Club." He put on his jacket and ran his comb through his curly hair. "Don't forget get the lions."

"Matthew's getting them now. Bye." He could see the tall man walk over and opened the door of the van and then tell him to get in.

"What if the police are about?"

"Well you don't have any transportation," said Matthew.

"Anything else we need?" John half-listened to the soft growls mingled with "mahs" from inside the van, his suspicions beginning to grow for they did not sound like fierce adult lions, but perhaps they were tired.

"I'm to pick up the rest." Tossing John some keys, the tall skeletal man checked his watch. "I have my car nearby. You get it and drive it to the zoo. It should take you about an hour."

John was in a quandary. He knew that Isaiah would pick his next victim there, but he also knew that Matthew was watching. He dare not go back to the telephone booth. He had to leave a signal, but did not have much time. He knew the Kutumbe Club did not open until seven and it was only six pm, which meant that Isaiah would probably check out Harold.

John got in the car, and drove down the street, looking for a drug store, not wanting to use a booth outside. There were several cafeterias and restaurants, but most were closed, this being the warehouse district. Finally, he found an all night diner, plopped some money on the counter, said, "a coffee and doughnut to go," and rushed to the telephone booth.

"Hello this is John. You know John Mutabe."

"John? How long has it been?" asked Harold.

"Still single?"

Harold was.

"Well you just inherited a girlfriend." Now John was able to explain his plan, telling him about his intended visitor. After that telephone call, he called the FBI headquarters.

They understood. John could hear the voice of Wilkes in the background. "It's a go," he said.