I took off to Almeria in my private jet a few hours after hearing the news. I was glad that I keep up the private jet because if I hadn't the next flight to Almeria was in four days, and last time I used that flight I lost my luggage at Almeria airport. Not this time.
There is a private landing-strip at my hacienda, and I used it. There Manuel greeted me. He looked like he'd been beaten up.
"Did someone beat you up?" I asked him. Manuel, a tall, aristocratic-looking Spaniard, nodded gravely.
"Si. Señorita! I am overjoyed to see you! Señor Akenbola he threaten me, and hit me."
"Is he still in Almeria?" I asked. If not it would take months to find the pair. And maybe I'd only find them when they tried their next crime. That would take a lot of time that I don't have.
"Certainly, Señorita. He cannot leave, for every road and every airport and every port is being watched."
"Then I'll find him."
"Si, Señorita. If anyone can find them, it is you."
"Well, I did find J. Bucky before," I reminded him with a smile.
I strolled into the hacienda while Manuel and the farm-hands unloaded my luggage from the 'plane and put my jet under cover. The sun was blazing down from the sky, and after a long flight I wanted to get into a swimsuit and spend a few hours by the pool relaxing with Samantha. She's quite used to flights, unlike some of my other cats, who really hate any sort of journey in the cat basket.
Almeria is practically a desert, a great, hot wilderness of rocks and mountains, scattered with little white villages where the people have eked a living from the land in between the region's booms and busts. The main plant is the ubiquitous Esparto grass, a huge, bushy, prickly thing that they used to use to make high-grade paper. The hacienda was still a working farm, but my grandfather had made the main house into a small palace. Good old grandad, he always knew how to live. All around the house there were groves of olives, almonds, and even a few orange trees.
Inside the hacienda it was beautifully cool. Small windows, high ceilings and thick whitewashed walls kept the interior at a constant temperature. I slipped off both my shoes and walked barefoot over the cool tiled floor. Bliss.
Suddenly Samantha arched her back. At once I knew something was wrong. It took me just a moment to work out what before I dived to the floor.
Then a rocket slammed into the side of the house. There was a roar, a sheet of flame, I felt something hit me, and then all I knew was blackness...
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