The fog cleared from the panel members’ faces. Even General Jemwa leaned forward.
“Christos Paris brought his family to your beautiful country. He invested his time, energy, and funds in the people of Kanzi, exploring the viability of producing local biofuels. To this day, many farmers subsist by providing Paris Industries with their annual crops.
“And when my father made promises, he kept them. Paris Industries built schools, hospitals, water purification facilities—all necessary additions to boost Kanzi’s living standards. And he invested in the people by employing them instead of importing foreign labor. My father worked hand in hand with the people of Kanzi before most other companies knew this special place existed.”
The prime minister nodded.
She spun around and headed for her brother. She stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. Ahmed had agreed with her suggestion to include Nikos and his history in her remarks. The COO was strategic, knowing that hitting the family note would affect many, including the prime minister, who was committed to his own kinfolk.
“This is my brother, Nikos Paris. When he was twelve years old, he was kidnapped and held in captivity for nine months. We were so grateful that we got him back.” Her gaze locked with General Jemwa’s. Under her fingers, Nikos’s shoulder muscles knotted.
She returned to the front of the room.
“Even though his own son had been held hostage because of his business here, Christos maintained his close partnership with Kanzi. He loves the people, the land, the culture. And my father shares the same resilience as your townsfolk. He started life as a fisherman’s son in Greece, poor and hungry. He built his company through hard work and sacrifice.”
The prime minister straightened in his seat.
“And proof of our family’s commitment is that Nikos and I are here today, representing our father, because he is going through a difficult trial. A few days ago, he was kidnapped. We’re here to show you that Paris Industries remains dedicated to Kanzi even in his absence.” She wasn’t going to dance around the truth. “This is about family, and Kanzi has always been part of ours. Choose Paris Industries, and you’ll continue to have that loyalty moving forward. Thank you for your time today.”
She headed back to her seat, nodding to Ahmed, who stood and headed toward the dignitaries.
“Thank you, Thea.” He cleared his throat. “Prime Minister Kimweri, board members, ladies and gentlemen, Paris Industries can offer something else that the Chinese National Oil Company can’t—efficient and safe transport of the oil to the closest port.”
The general’s fingers drummed on the table; he was probably eager to escape the laborious proceedings. He was a man of action, not a corporate suit.
A soft creak. The rear door of the conference room opened, and a man dressed in fatigues stepped inside. Something about his rigid stance left Thea unsettled.
“Our company has a signed agreement from the government of Namibia, and . . .”
She stopped paying attention to Ahmed’s speech and zeroed in on the soldier striding up the left aisle. A slight bulge on his rear hip set off warning signals. She slipped off her heels and kept him in her peripheral vision.
He closed the distance to where the dignitaries sat. Instinct made her move. She jumped up and knocked her chair aside, bolting toward him.
Seconds later, he reached for his hip, connecting with his weapon.
“Gun!” She lunged forward.
The soldier raised his pistol.
She sidestepped him, her fingers burrowing into his hand, nails hooked into his flesh. She twisted hard. The pistol clattered to the floor.
Before he could recover, she brought her hand down like a blade on his biceps. A loud snap. He screamed. She kicked his legs out from under him, knocking him to his knees.
The prime minister’s bodyguards pounced on the soldier, cuffing him. She kept his gun at her side. Over a hundred pairs of eyes locked on her, the room suddenly silent. She turned to the prime minister, who looked shell shocked.
“We need to get you somewhere safe, sir.”
Prime Minister Kimweri banged the gavel, ending the session. Chaos reigned as everyone charged out of the room. Thea grabbed her bag from the table, looped it around her torso, and ran toward Kimweri. She looked for the general, but he had vanished during the commotion. Strange. Why would the man in charge of protecting the prime minister disappear?
Movement outside the window caught her attention. Men dressed in fatigues swarmed the gardens. A volley of shots echoed in the courtyard.
The prime minister’s bodyguards rushed to close the conference room’s doors. Remembering the floor plans of the hotel, Thea guided Kimweri to the rear door, which led downstairs to the boiler room. She needed to get him to a safe location.
Chapter Sixty