Part 9
It was a typically hot day in this third world metropolis as a mysterious group of Americans gathered over drinks and cake on the roof of a luxury hotel. In the streets below, there was tension in the air as the smell of an imminent coup lingered. Earlier the group had met in the presidential palace with the president to assure him of their continued support. That support was solidified by a pledge of $1.5 billion (with a "b") in further payoffs.
The group on the roof of the hotel was led by the Godmother, who was in town to support the tottering president of the banana republic (which had no bananas, BTW) as well as to protect the interests of the syndicate. Sitting by her side was her new
consigliere, a beautiful and mysterious young woman with dark, exotic features and long black hair. Secretly many of the Godmother's associates could not understand how the young woman had risen so fast to become
consigliere. It was rumored she was married to a rising politician in Washington, but even that was not clear. At any rate, they held their silence.
Also present in the group was the Godmother's head of operations in the country, an American woman named Anne.
One of the men in the group asked the Godmother about the payoff.
"Godmother. With all due respect, $1.5 billion. That's a lotta dough."
""I know," the Godmother replied. "but it's a wise investment. We need to protect our interests in this country."
"But what if the government falls? That's money down the drain."
"Why do you think the government will fall?" the Godmother shot back.
The man persisted. "Today, I was being driven in from the airport. It took hours because of the demonstration in the streets. It was a million man march."
The Godmother smiled derisively. "Yeah, yeah. I seen a lotta those "million this or million that protests in Washington. They turn out to be a few hundred or a few thousand. What difference does it make?"
"No, really. This was no million man march in Washington. There was really a million people. And millions more in other cities."
"So what do you think that means?" asked the Godmother.
"It means they can win."
The waiter appeared just in time with cake.
"The Godmother continued talking as the waiter passed out plates of cake to the guests.
"You know, I'm not going to be in this position much longer. I want you all to meet my successor, Gianni over there," pointing to a slim man with chiseled features and pompadour style grey hair.
The man smiled and smartly saluted. "Reporting for duty, Godmother."
The Godmother then turned to a brown-haired woman in her 40s.
"Samantha will be our representative in New York for overseas business interests. She will report directly to Gianni when I'm gone. Now enjoy your cake. This afternoon, my brother Hugho will be arriving with the money, and we will all be attending a big party in the palace tonight."
Later that afternoon, Hugho arrived at the hotel from the airport carrying a briefcase, which he refused to let out of his hands when a hotel bellboy offered to carry it. Arriving in the Godmother's suite, he opened the briefcase and showed her the contents. $1.5 billion in cool cash.
"
That's a big f------ briefcase!"
"Any trouble getting this past Customs?" asked the Godmother.
"Only in New York," answered Hugho. "The TSA gal asked me what was in the briefcase. I told her I had over a billion dollars. She laughed and waved me through. I was a little nervous with that picture of
Janet Napolitano on the wall staring down at me."
"Why do ya think we put her in there? So even stupid schmucks like you can come and go as you please."
"Uh, can I get a drink?
"Sure," the Godmother replied. "Then get changed. We're going to a big party at the presidential palace tonight."
Later that night.
The atmosphere at the gala was tense. The president had not yet appeared, and the sound of a mob could be heard in the streets below.
"Death to America! Death to Anne! Death to the Godmother!"
And it was getting louder.
Suddenly, the sound of marching boots could be heard approaching. Then a cordon of uniformed soldiers marched into the room with the president in tow. He was wearing handcuffs. The soldiers and the president continued through the room and out the opposite door en route to God only knew where.
"The government has fallen," shouted the president. "Get out of Dodge while you can!"
At that moment, panic swept the room, and the guests began a mad dash to escape the palace and get out of the city-out of the country-out of the banana republic that had no bananas.
At that moment, the Godmother walked over to Samantha, who had a panicked look on her face.
"I know it was you," said the Godmother as she held Samantha's head in her hands and planted a kiss right on her mouth. "It was you who called me a
monster. You broke my heart."
Shocked, Samantha said nothing, but turned and ran out of the hall.
Out in the streets, there was pandemonium as thousands of joyful people filled the streets and surrounded the American embassy, climbing its walls as helicopters filled with Americans lifted off the roof. Anne could be seen clinging desperately to one of the helicopter skids as it flew off into the night.
It was clear that the Godmother's business interests in the country were down the toilet.
An embassy car appeared out of nowhere and the Godmother and the
consigliere jumped inside. It turned down a side street where the Godmother spotted Samantha in the street. She ordered the car to stop, jumped out, and called to Samantha.
"Samantha, get in. It's your only hope! I forgive you!"
Samantha looked then turned and ran off into the night.
Exasperated, the Godmother got back into the car and told the driver, "Let's get the f*** outta here."
The car continued to the airport where the Godmother's plane was waiting. As soon as she and the
consigliere got on board, the plane taxied down the runway and took off into the night-to safety.
"Where to?" asked the pilot.
The Godmother thought for a moment then replied,
"Libya. I got an important business meeting there."
