Hemi waited. He had waited for four and a half years, so waiting was nothing new. Waiting was what undercover agents do. Until his prey took the bait, Hemi had to occupy himself with other tasks, so while he waited Hemi had built up his own little business from home. He had further developed his army communications training and now repaired computers and maintained websites. It suited him perfectly. He lived alone in a small, two-bed home he had saved up for. From the window of his home office he could see the tip of Rangitoto. He knew that with another floor on top of his house he would be able to see the water too. He had discovered that when he climbed on the roof to install a satellite dish.
Hemi was preoccupied with changing some room prices on a local hotel website when the little red mobile phone that never rang, did. He picked it up with nervous anticipation.
‘Hemi Davis,’ he said, clearing his throat. It wasn’t his real name, of course, but the alias the agency had created for him.
‘Good morning, Hemi, do you know who this is?’ Hemi recognised the voice immediately. ‘We have some work for you.’
‘Yeah… I know who you are, I’m available.’ Hemi smiled. His wait might be over.
Hemi couldn’t believe his luck. He had hoped he might get to work with this particular man ever since he realised who he was during his early work with the agency. As soon as Hemi saw him it was clear a destiny was being fulfilled: fate had placed the man responsible for his father’s death directly in his sights. That fate worked its wonders again when Hemi was assigned an undercover mission to penetrate the Clan of Truth, the very organisation that this creep was involved with. The Clan of Truth had an agenda; they were considered racist activists, out to prove that the Maori were not the rightful natives of New Zealand. Hemi had infiltrated the group and involved himself with Website work for them. He had made it clear he would go to any length to help their cause. Finally, after all the waiting and hinting, he was being called into action, by the top man himself. It was perfect in every way. Maybe the opportunity would arise to get a little justice, the legal way. His nerves intensified. Hemi loved a challenge. He wouldn’t have signed up for work like this if he didn’t.
‘What’s the job?’ Hemi asked.
‘A British academic is coming to New Zealand to do a little foraging in history. We need you to keep an eye on him. Don’t worry about hiding yourself too much, we want him to know he’s being watched. Make yourself look like the GSCB or some government agency. Use whatever techniques necessary to keep him on the path we have predetermined for him. Do you understand what I mean?’
‘Yes, I know which path you mean.’ Hemi smiled at the thought of pretending to work for his own agency.
‘Good. Dr. Cameron will arrive on Sunday on the 2pm flight from Singapore. Be at the airport to welcome him. Have you got a car that fits the appropriate profile?’
‘Yes, a black Corolla.’
‘A pleasure working with you, Hemi, we’ll be in touch.’
Hemi listened for the click and watched as the phone returned to its former standby state. The polite final comment rang in Hemi’s ears. Lip service, he mused. Hemi knew better than to think this bastard actually gave a damn about him. Hemi was just there to do some dirty work.
He saved the page he was working on, uploaded it to the server, and closed Dreamweaver. That was work for the next few weeks, he thought, his customers would have to wait. Hemi grabbed a Coke from the fridge and pulled up a fresh browser session. The Internet was his friend, he spent hours online every week and was a self-professed web-guru. He punched ‘Dr. Cameron’ and ‘United Kingdom’ into the Google toolbar and sifted through the results, quickly identifying his target.
You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Mr. Matthew Cameron. By contacting Hemi, the Clan of Truth had revealed themselves as people not to mess around with. But then, they didn’t know what kind of man they were dealing with either.
Hemi smiled and spoke to himself. ‘Let the games begin.’