Brooke, Jack, Molly and Brian walked out of the office of Lloyd, Franks and Deschamps, solicitors, and paused on the pavement before shaking hands and high-fiving each other. Bearcat Food Inc. was now up and running, and they were all directors, as was Jinnie, but she didn’t yet know it. Bearcat Food Inc. was now owned 50/50 by Baker’s Fried Chicken and Bearcat Foods Limited. The company had leased furnished offices on the sixth floor of a large block off Gloucester Street in downtown Ottawa. They would be moving Jack’s small offices in as soon as it could be arranged and running all the new subsidiaries from there. Bearcat Foods Inc. now also owned Ottawa Chicken Processors and Boucher Brothers Chilled Transport, and the solicitors were now tasked with changing their names to Bearcat Chicken Processors and Bearcat Chilled Transport.
Bearcat Foods Inc. also owned 14 KFC branches, which now resided in Bearcat Food (Operations), and the solicitors had just given the required five days’ notice of cancellation of their KFC franchise agreements. In six days’ time, they would all be closed for a few days and would reopen as Aunty JoJo’s Fried Chicken Shacks, all freshly decorated and fitted out to the company standard that had been acquired from Monica. They might lose a few days’ income, but getting them up and running quickly would hardly matter. Belinda had found and commissioned a fit-out company, and all four directors were confident the plan was practical and would work.
Brian had arrived from the UK with a British franchising manual and a typical franchise agreement that he, Jack, Molly and Chuck Franks, from the solicitors, had worked on and converted into an agreement that met Canadian law. At the same time, Bearcat Foods (Franchising) Inc. was being set up as another subsidiary of Bearcat Foods Inc., ready for the first franchisees. Brian had spoken to the owners of the KFC branches Jack had been in contact with and had shaken hands on them becoming Bearcat’s first three franchisees with five outlets. Just as soon as the new franchise operation was set up, they would also give KFC notice and would start the process of becoming Aunty JoJo outlets, using the same fit-out company.
Jack was now to undertake the task of telling all 20-odd independent fried chicken outlets that their supplier, Ottawa Chicken Processors, was now Bearcat Chicken Processors and part of a new independent group. He would tell them that they not only produced chicken for independent shops but were supplying a new mixed chain of fully owned and franchised outlets. They had decided that the independents would be offered the choice of carrying on as independents, whom they would be happy to continue supplying on the existing terms, becoming an Aunty JoJo’s franchisee, or even selling to the group.
The board had discussed what they would say if an independent wanted to sell out and had agreed that, under those circumstances, they would make an offer for any business. Jack believed this was unlikely and that most independents would want to retain their businesses, so would either continue as independents or become franchisees. But that was a task that would be undertaken only when all the company-owned shops were trading and the franchise operation was ready.
There was little for Brian to do now the company structure was complete. He was a money man, and most of the big spending was done. There were going to be some things to do when the franchise operation was established, but they were now entering a period of getting the business established. Jack had his eye on two new company-owned shops in areas of Ottawa that were outside his old franchise area. The plan was to fund these from income and the sale of the old office space. If the business grew in line with the company’s business plan, they would build up their reserves from profits from the 14 shops they owned, the chicken processing business, and franchising for a few months before starting to grow shop numbers. Consequently, Brian was going to fly home. Brooke was going to stay at least until the 14 shops were up and running, and probably until the franchise business was working, which would likely be another two weeks. At the moment, there was no advertising campaign planned, although there was a CAN$1 million advertising reserve just in case they needed to hit the local media.
***
The bugs in the people-smuggling gang’s barn were most revealing. The operator listening in reported that they were dealing with more than one gang. The gang they were bugging had decided they were being attacked by a rival gang trying to steal their business and that they should attack them back. The gang planned not to ship any illegals that night but instead to attack the gang on Irena’s beach. After a quick discussion, it was decided that it was pointless for Jinnie and her spotter to take their position in their hide tonight, as they already knew no one was going to be there. But the question was: should they join Penny in her hide or Irena in hers?
The Captain pointed out that there could be a turf war on Irena’s beach. But it was soon certain to involve all three beaches, and they were rapidly concluding that there were three separate gangs. The GOI Captain continued, saying, “I think we should double up on Irena’s beach tonight. We have a second hide for use if the main one were to be discovered. HQ have suggested that you should both have several magazines loaded with ordinary bullets. Then you can take out people-smugglers from any side, and they will think the other side did it.”
***
Jinnie was sipping her second coffee of the night when Luka gently nudged her and whispered, “Someone is arriving.” Unlike when the guards arrived on the beach, the arrivals were creeping through the dunes behind the beach and taking up positions. They were not showing much light, but Jinnie’s night sight picked them out easily. Luka had a pair of light-intensifying binoculars and a laser rangefinder, and between them, they quickly located the attackers. It was quite easy for Jinnie and Luka, as they were well away from the attackers, who had taken up positions only a couple of hundred yards from the end of the track to the beach and were all facing the beach. Jinnie whispered back, “Nothing is going to happen here until the guards, boats and people-smugglers arrive. I wonder if they will have a similar schedule to our beach. I should have asked Irena.”
It became apparent that this gang did things differently. No guards arrived first and spread out to their fixed positions before anyone else arrived. Instead, a few headlights came down the track, alerting Jinnie and Luka that something was about to happen. First onto the beach were several cars, followed by a light truck with two largish inflatable boats without their outboards, then a 4×4 pickup with the outboards, and finally two open-backed tipper trucks full of what Jinnie guessed were tonight’s passengers.
The final trucks were allowed to halt, and the passengers started to jump down when the firing erupted. Unlike the sound- and flash-suppressed sniper rifles, the weapons in use by the attackers were noisy, and the barrel flashes revealed the shooters’ positions. But the firing was intense and aimed at this beach’s gang, not at the illegal immigrants, who scattered into the dunes. Those still in the tipper trucks dropped back down to the relative safety behind the metal sides, not realising that they were not the targets of the attack. Guards, drivers, boat handlers and any other gang members were caught by surprise, and few survived long enough to return fire. But some did, taking up positions behind anything that offered a little protection from the incoming fire and firing back at the attackers’ gun flashes.
Jinnie and Luka decided that now was the time to join in the fight, and using her night vision sight, Jinnie started to take out the attackers in the dunes. She waited until she saw someone fire into the beach melee before swiftly dispatching them with a long-range shot. She guessed those she fired on had no idea what had hit them. Her rounds were fired from thousands of feet away from a silenced, flash-suppressed rifle, and her targets would have had to be looking far beyond the battle on the beach and into the distant hills to realise she was there. A couple of times the target fell just before she pulled the trigger, and Jinnie guessed Irena was also joining in.
Just as suddenly as the firing had started, it stopped, and through her night sight, Jinnie watched the remaining attackers drifting away, helping several wounded comrades escape. The people-smugglers on the beach were down to about three uninjured and a couple of walking wounded. The pickup truck loaded with outboards was blazing, and the boats on the back of their truck were in ribbons. The smugglers attempted to round up the illegals, but many had disappeared into the dunes and were not to be found. As they left the beach, the remaining trucks and cars crept up the track, disappeared onto the main road, and headed away, leaving a lot of bodies on the beach and in the dunes.
***
Brian headed for the Air Canada business international transfer lounge at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport and picked up an early edition of tomorrow’s Toronto Star. He had a few hours to wait for his connecting overnight redeye London flight, so he settled down in a leather armchair with his paper in front of a TV tuned to the CTV news channel. Next to him was a Canadian Club and Ginger Ale, which he had got a taste for during his visit. He turned to the business section to see if any of the local reporters had picked up on the launch of Bearcat Foods and Aunty JoJo’s but found nothing. So, he switched his attention to the rolling news on the TV to see if anything important had happened in the world while he had been busy getting Bearcat Foods up and running.
It was while a waiter was taking an order for a second drink that Brian’s attention was claimed by a “Breaking News” banner appearing on the screen and a presenter coming on to describe news coming out of Tunisia of a war between three gangs of people-smugglers that had left numerous dead and injured gang members on the beaches. Fishermen had found a couple of bodies and called the local police. They had found many more bodies, injured men, the remains of boats, trucks and cars and had rapidly realised they were dealing with people-smugglers, so they had called in the National Guard, who had responsibility for borders.
The National Guard had reported that although many of the men had rifle and handgun injuries, several appeared to have been hit by higher calibre rounds, as if hit by a sniper. This set Brian wondering. He knew Jinnie was off on one of her irregular trips for Vauxhall Cross, but as always, as he wasn’t involved, he had no idea if she was involved. He sat and digested the report, and the more he thought about it, the more likely he thought she was involved—it all fitted. By the time the flight was called, he had seen the report several times, and it had been updated to say that more destroyed boats had been found on a nearby beach, but there were no bodies there. However, many undocumented foreign men had been rounded up wandering on the beaches and dunes.
Brian took his business class seat and chose to accept an orange juice as his pre-take-off drink. He intended to enjoy his airline meal and then get his head down on his lie-flat seat in his little cubicle, and tried not to think about Jinnie and her sniper skills until back on the ground. Instead, he took the menu from the cabin crew and started to decide what he was going to have for dinner.
***
The beach buggies dropped Jinnie and Luka off at the farmhouse and, no sooner were they concealed in an outhouse, than a National Guard helicopter clattered overhead. Luka said, “It’s heading for the beaches. I guess the search is on for illegals and survivors. He’s heading there flat out and is not yet in a search pattern.” The Captain came over and said, “The bugs and our drones indicate that the remains of the gangs have left the area, and I suspect it will not be long before the National Guard find their hideouts. The word from HQ is to get you girls away as soon as possible and to try to recover the bugs. We have orders to clean up here and make the place look like it has been abandoned for years. We will be picked up by boat, but you three are on a scheduled flight from Tunis to Gatwick late this afternoon.” “But we have no passports,” replied Jinnie.
“No problem,” said the Captain. “We have a car, and Luka has volunteered to drive you. Someone from the British Embassy will meet you at the airport with the passports, tickets and some cash.” “And the rifles and ammunition?” asked Jinnie. “We will look after all that,” came the reply, “and tell Irena she is wanted in London for a debrief. After that, she can head for home.”
Jinnie was busy throwing her few things into her holdall when Penny and Irena arrived, having had to wait under trees while the helicopter passed over and disappeared out of sight. Jinnie quickly explained what was happening, and they also threw their bits and pieces into their bags. They were ready in jeans and T-shirts when Luka called for them. The trip to the airport seemed to take forever, and it was early afternoon when Luka dropped them at the departures building. They had no idea how they were going to recognise ‘the man from the embassy,’ but they need not have worried. A small, nondescript, dark-haired man walked up to them as soon as they got out of the car, saying, “Good afternoon, Dame Jinnie.”
Rather taken by surprise that anyone would recognise her, but recovering quickly, she replied, “Good afternoon. I take it you are from the embassy and have something for me and my colleagues.” Picking up her holdall and putting it on a luggage trolley he had been pushing, he said, “Just put all your bags on the trolley, and when you get to the BA check-in desk for Gatwick, you will find your required documentation in the outside pocket of your holdall, Dame Jinnie.” With that, he turned, climbed into a taxi that seemed to be waiting for him, and was gone. Penny looked at Jinnie and asked, “Where do we meet the man from the embassy?” Jinnie smiled and replied, “We just did.” Irena said, “You mean he was that man who gave you his luggage trolley?” “Yes,” said Jinnie. “But he didn’t hand over the passports and tickets,” said Irena. “But he did,” replied Jinnie. “He was just too good at his job for you to see him do it.”
Jinnie pushed the trolley to the BA check-in desk. The passports, tickets, and cash (both Tunisian dinars and British pounds) were, just as the little man had said, in an A4 envelope in the pocket of Jinnie’s bag. The tickets were business class in the same fictitious names as the passports, which each had a photo of one of the girls. The girl on check-in processed their tickets and passports before handing them back to Jinnie, whom she assumed was the leader of the party, saying, “I hope you enjoyed your holiday in Tunisia, ladies.” Jinnie replied, “Yes, we had an amazing time, thank you.”
They were quickly through security, and once in the lounge, Penny asked if they had enough dinars to get a cold drink. Checking the wad of Tunisian notes, Jinnie said, “I think so. We seem to have several thousand, and that currency exchange says £1 for 4 dinars. I might even buy the twins a giant Toblerone each; that’s what tourists do.” In the end, they had their cold drinks, and Jinnie got her Toblerone and some aftershave for Paolo. Penny bought aftershave for Dan, and not to be left out, Irena bought a Swatch for Big Willie.
According to the departure screens, they had well over an hour before their flight was due to be called and were looking for somewhere to sit when Penny said, “There’s a BA lounge over there. As business class passengers, we should get in there, and it’s bound to be less crowded.” The girl on the desk at the door checked their boarding cards and waved them into an oasis of air-conditioned peace and calm, where, no sooner had they collapsed into soft seats, than a waiter arrived asking if they wanted anything to eat or drink. Jinnie asked if dinner was served on the Gatwick flight and, when told “Yes, madam,” she opted for a gin and tonic in a tall glass with lots of ice and a slice of lime. The other two asked for the same before Penny said, “Why didn’t I think of the lounge before we bought that cold drink?”
The plane was an Airbus A321, and the business class seats, although nice, didn’t come up to the lie-flat seats of the long-haul fleets. But the seats were wider, with much more legroom than economy, and arranged two either side of the single aisle with a table between the seats. Before take-off, they were offered orange juice, prosecco, or water and, just like Brian, chose the orange juice while studying the dinner menu. Unlike the choice of beef or chicken in ‘economy,’ the business class menu read nicely: a coleslaw starter, then the choice of lamb shank, pork belly and chicken skewer, or vegetable korma curry, followed by Eton mess and cheese and biscuits.
The stewardess arrived with the drinks trolley for the pre-dinner service, and as she placed the gin and tonic in front of Jinnie, she leant in and whispered, “I understand you and your colleagues are being met at Gatwick. I will ensure you are first off—not that business is very full.” As she stood up, she picked up her tablet and continued, saying, “And what would madam like for her main course?” Jinnie smiled and said, “I think I might have the lamb, please.” The stewardess smiled back and replied, “An excellent choice,” before moving on.
Jinnie’s lamb shank had indeed proved to be an excellent choice. It was tender and tasty, falling off the bone. It was served in a rich gravy that included diced root vegetables and creamy mashed potatoes. The Eton mess turned out to contain both raspberries and strawberries and was quite good. After nearly a week of field rations, she would have enjoyed almost anything more, but as airline meals go, this had been pretty good. Jinnie settled down for a post-dinner snooze before the early evening landing at Gatwick.
The seatbelt announcement woke Jinnie, and looking around, both her sister and Irena were in the process of waking up and sorting themselves out for landing. The stewardess who had spoken to Jinnie earlier came round checking the seatbelts and, leaning over Jinnie as if to check her belt, whispered, “I expect you are used to this procedure, but I’ll see your party off first, and you will be met at the door and taken down the airbridge emergency stairs. Do you have any hold baggage?” “No, we only have hand baggage,” replied Jinnie, “and yes, we are familiar with the procedure.”
The three ladies were led down the emergency stairs and were ushered into a black Lexus LM people carrier. Jinnie, being a Lexus owner, was on their mailing list and had wondered if she could swap her company car for one when it came up for renewal, but at £90,000 for the basic model, she was doubtful. The car was a seven-seater luxury hybrid, and she just loved the fantastic leather seats and the electric sliding doors. It would be superb for transporting the family. The driver and ‘shotgun’ loaded their holdalls in the back, and the driver pressed the buttons to close the doors and the tailgate, and they were silently moving.
As the people carrier made its way from airside to the perimeter road, Jinnie said to the driver, “This is new. It’s a bit different to the old Range Rover. How long have you had it?” “About ten days,” came the reply. “We really needed something bigger and more luxurious. We’ve been doing more and more pick-ups at the airport recently, and often we had to use two cars to move everyone. This is nice, a real pleasure to drive on the motorway, although I understand they did have a bit of trouble fitting the blues and twos.”
“What are ‘blues and twos’?” asked Irena. “Blue flashing police lights and the two-tone siren,” answered Jinnie, while the driver said, “You’ll see in a minute or two when we get on the motorway to London. This thing goes like a rocket. I’m under instructions to take you to Heathrow so you can pick up your car. Then I’m picking up the boss at Terminal 5—he’s been at a meeting in Washington. So, your debrief is Monday at 10:30 in ‘C’s office.” “That’s good,” said Penny. “I need to catch up on some sleep.”
***
Brian walked out of customs into the arrivals hall and looked for the signs for the Elizabeth Line, only to hear Belinda calling him. “Hello, love,” he said. “I didn’t expect to be met. I was going to take the train home and a taxi from Three Bridges.” “Well, you have a chauffeur instead, and you can tell me all about how things went in Canada on the way home.” Together, they strolled to the short-term car park, and Brian popped his case in the boot of Belinda’s Porsche before settling into the passenger seat.
On the way around the M25 and down the M23, he told Belinda how everything had gone like clockwork. He explained how the solicitors recommended by Jack had set up the company structure he had designed, with the master company and all the subsidiaries. How the chicken processors and the chilled delivery company were now part of the group. Aunty JoJo’s was now a registered trading name, offices had been found, and a computer system had been set up by a contractor to Nigel’s design. He explained how three other independently owned KFC franchises, with five restaurants, were switching to Aunty JoJo’s franchises as soon as the system was up and running. Brian told Belinda he fully expected some of the independent fried chicken shops they were now delivering chicken pieces, chicken burgers, chicken nuggets and various other items to, to become Aunty JoJo’s franchisees in the short term.
Belinda asked, “Are you advertising?” “Not yet,” answered Brian. “We have funds available, but Jack wants to see how sales go under the new branding. He is ready to spend the money if we have to, but why do it if sales take off? Molly says she thinks she can get the story into the Ottawa Citizen. That’s the biggest daily newspaper. If she can, it’s bound to be picked up by the internet and other media. The only thing we have done is set up AuntyJoJos.ca, and it goes live on Sunday when the first few Aunty JoJo’s open. I’ve seen what Nigel’s people have done with the website, and it looks good. It also has links to and from AuntyJoJos.com, so it shows all the restaurants in the Caribbean and the UK. It’s amazing how big the group is now. Brooke is doing a fantastic job in Canada, not to mention the UK.” “Don’t remind me,” said Belinda. “Jinnie took a chance on her, and she has turned out to be a marvellous employee. I would have hired Brooke any day of the week. You know Jinnie is a wonderful judge of people. It’s why I asked her to sit in on the interviews when I was setting up the SuperBurgers group. We are just over a week into the project, and gosh, have we found some good people.”
“Talking about work,” asked Brian, “how are things going with your business?”
“It’s been potty,” replied Belinda, “but we are getting there. Apart from the SuperBurger contract, Richard is down in Bournemouth and has started work on the Ennios Bournemouth. There is enough work there to keep him busy until we have full planning permission for the complete job. Then we can build up the team to do the whole job. We have a DKL 12 kitchen job we’ve just started in Southend. We have a new Trattoria Trevi in Cardiff. We are doing two Aunty JoJo’s in Newcastle and have two more to follow in Hull, and then one in Eastbourne and one in Hastings. These are all combined sit-down restaurants and takeaways, but there are also about five simple takeaways in build. Then there are three sandwich shops/Sybaritic in various stages of work. I think TT Group have several more planned but have not yet asked us to quote.”
“We have just won a tender for a Cat A fit-out of a 22-storey office block in Manchester. The developer has pre-let 12 floors to a software developer, and we are in pole position to win their Cat B,” continued Belinda. “Andrew, Willow and I are off there on Wednesday, and we really need you to talk money. Are you free?” “I really need to go into DKL on Monday and Tuesday, but I suppose I could be available on Wednesday. After all, it is DKL work,” said Brian. “Are you driving up?” “No,” answered Belinda. “We are on the train; the new building is quite near the station. We are walking around and then having a formal meeting in a hotel.” “One thing you haven’t mentioned,” said Brian, “is Jinnie’s house.” “Well, we are ahead of programme,” replied Belinda. “Jason finished the flat early, and the builders had the house weather-tight while you were away. The plumbers and electricians are in doing first fit, and Jason and his team are starting on partitions, floors and ceilings. The stairs are due from the factory on Tuesday, which will make things easier.”
“I didn’t realise you were that busy,” said Brian. “That’s not the end of it,” said Belinda, navigating the slip road off the M25 onto the M23. “We have been helping Keith tender another big job where he is down to the last two bidders. But he is stacked out with work. He has been churning out the Aunty JoJo’s in Trinidad—there must be 20 open now—and the first DKL kitchen complex is virtually finished. He is busy on the Antigua Continental/Aunty JoJo’s, and I hear the building work is all but finished. It is just the fit-out and the decoration. Work is underway on the big job he has in Bridgetown, and Peter is recruiting like mad. I understand that Monica is ready to place the first half-dozen Aunty JoJo’s in Jamaica. She just wants to secure her local suppliers first, and that should be all tied up in a few days.” “No wonder you look tired,” said Brian.
***
Jinnie pulled into the drive of the Hadley house and saw the curtains twitch as Larry jumped down from the windowsill and headed for the front door to greet her. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she saw it was 19:50, well past the twins’ bedtime. As they didn’t know she was coming home, there was no reason for them still to be up. She let herself in and bent down to stroke Larry, whispering to him, “Hello, my friend. Where is everyone?”
Larry meowed and headed for the kitchen door. Jinnie stopped in the doorway and saw Paolo sat at the breakfast bar eating a big bowl of pasta with what looked like a creamy seafood sauce, watching a film on the kitchen TV. She crept up behind him, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him on the top of his head. He jumped in surprise, and, turning, said, “I didn’t expect you. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming home?” “It was all last minute,” said Jinnie, “and, in any case, my mobile is in the drawer by my bed. You know I can’t take it with me.”
Jinnie asked if Izzy was home, and Paolo said, “I think so, but since she has her own flat and is not officially on duty in the evening, I don’t really know. She could be out with her boyfriend for all I know.” “So, you are on twins’ duty then.” “Yes,” answered Paolo, “but they have been no trouble. They are happy to get themselves ready for bed, and provided I let them read the next chapter or so in their book, they settle down without any arguments.”
“I have missed them,” said Jinnie. “I must go up and check on them.”
First, Jinnie looked in on Millie, who was deeply asleep and didn’t move when she kissed her on the top of her head that was peeping out from under her duvet. Quietly, Jinnie closed the door and headed to Willie’s room. She crept into his room, but this time he roused as she kissed the top of his head. Opening his eyes, he sleepily said, “Mummy, you’re home,” before turning over and going back to sleep. Jinnie was smiling happily when she got back to the kitchen, where Paolo was just finishing washing up. “Do you want a drink?” he asked. “I could murder a G&T in a big glass with loads of ice,” replied Jinnie. “I was really thinking about a coffee,” said Paolo, and it was only when Jinnie saw his grin that she realised he was kidding.
Sat on the sofa with Larry’s head in her lap and the G&T in her hand, Jinnie said, “Gosh, I am tired.” “I’m not surprised,” said Paolo. “The reports I have seen say you have been very busy.” “You’ve seen reports!” said Jinnie. “Of course, it was an Italian operation, but everything was anonymised, Major Lavender,” replied Paolo. “But you knew,” said Jinnie, “and if you knew, who else knew, and has it put the family in danger?”
In Chapter 32 – A debrief and a shock
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