Black Gold

By Arnold Beckhardt

Large scale oil development in the Caspian energy corridor started in the late 19th century and Russia was the dominant player until very recently. The construction of the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline from Azerbaijan to Turkey by a consortium led by British Petroleum has changed the dynamics of the relationships between who has the oil and who needs the oil. Roy Neely, sixty-five-year-old-widower, ex Air Force Vietnam fighter-bomber pilot, former CIA surveillance trainer and retired FBI psychologist, struggles with what to do with his life after the tragic death of his wife. His friend Eric Holloway, CIA Operations Chief, convinces Neely to take on Project Sinbad, a sensitive assignment to protect the flow of oil from the Caspian Sea to Europe. Boris Cheresko, a retired KGB enforcer, has been brought back by the Russian energy czar to develop a plan to increase Russian control of the flow of oil to Europe. Cheresko plans involve Ian Connedy, BP Chief Executive for Exploration and Production of Oil, while he is visiting the Gardaboni, Georgia pumping station. Neely, working with CIA sources in Moscow, uncovers the identity of Cheresko. Neely and Skip Borowski, BP Security Chief in Georgia, save Connedy’s life and set in motion a new dynamic between Russia and British Petroleum interests.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arnold Beckhardt
• Release date: May 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476277387

Arnold Beckhardt

Arnold R. Beckhardt is a retired IBM engineering executive who specialized in the development of military weapon systems and space programs. He was a pilot in World War Two in China, Burma and India. Since his retirement Beckhardt is the author of political thrillers TURNAROUND, GOERING’S GOLD, BLACK GOLD, and MEXICAN GOLD. Roy Neely’s adventures continue in THE KASHMIR DILEMMA. He lives in Vero Beach, Florida with Greta, his wife of sixty-five years. Visit his website: www.booksbybeckhardt.com

Book preview

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Black Gold

A Roy Neely Novel

by

ARNOLD R. BECKHARDT

Published by Arnold R. Beckhardt at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 by Arnold R. Beckhardt

Discover other Roy Neely titles at http://booksbybeckhardt.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Acknowledgements

This is the third Roy Neely novel. The first version of this novel was published in 2009 and I have updated this version in May, 2012. News reports triggered the the idea for this novel just like all of my writings. In this case it was the reports of the struggle between Russia and Georgia over South Ossetia. A series of articles in the Wall Street Journal piqued my interest in the Azerbaijan oil field. Large scale oil development in this part of the world started in the late 19th century and Russia was the dominant player until very recently. The construction of the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline by a consortium led by British Petroleum has changed the dynamics of the relationships in the Caspian energy corridor. Thus, the start of this novel began.

My greatest source of information in creating this novel has been the vast resources of the internet. In years past many authors relied on personal visits to the cities and places of their novels. Today, the internet provides the author visual and word descriptions of the whole world. Satellite images can be downloaded zooming in on exact latitude and longitude of most places on the globe. The technology innovations that have occurred in my lifetime have provided this author the capability to travel the world and give my readers real descriptions of the scenes of this novel.

My first reader and editor is my wife Greta. She does a great job of keeping me going at the many revisions necessary to produce a version that is ready for the publishing world to see. Our very special daughters, Sandra and Stacey, keep encouraging me to write about Roy Nelly’s adventures.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. It goes without question that all errors, omisions, and dramatic license with time, place and historical persons are my responsibility.

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Chapter One

Joyce Alexander Neely sat at the lunch counter stirring a cup of coffee. She watched as Gloria cleaned the table from the last customer. It was a little after eight after a busy supper hour at the Beanery. Joyce thought about the last two weeks she had spent managing the restaurant while Joe DiAngelo had gone to New York for a family wedding and a much needed vacation. She took a deep breath feeling relieved that Joe would be back tomorrow. Then her mind wandered to the Caribbean cruise that Roy made reservations for them over Thanksgiving. Joyce hadn’t worked so hard in years and felt really tired as she took a sip of coffee. Gloria, are you all finished?

Just have one other table to set up and then I’m out of here.

Thanks. I’ll be back in the office getting the bank deposit ready. So lock the door when you leave.

Joyce Neely felt every one of her fifty years as she stood up and walked to the office. She was a slender woman and like many waitresses her arms and legs were evidence of her strength. Her light brown hair with streaks of gray was cut short. At the desk she realized how tired she felt. She sat at the desk in Joe’s office and decided to call home before she did the paperwork. Roy answered on the second ring.

Are you almost ready to come home? said Roy.

Just have to make up the night deposit and stop at the bank. Did you heat the chili I left for you in the fridge?

Yes. It was as good as you ever made. How was your day?

We were very busy for breakfast and supper but lunch was slow. I will be so glad when Joe gets back tomorrow. I’m getting tired of this all day routine. I can’t wait for that Thanksgiving cruise we booked.

I’ll wait for you to have my cup of coffee. Did I ever tell you I love you?

You might have mentioned that once or twice. I’ll be home soon.

Joyce thought about these last five years married to Roy. Her first husband died when she was forty and left her feeling that she had no life left. When she met Roy Neely her whole life had changed and she felt alive and happier than she ever thought possible. She shook her head and started to count the money. She filled out the deposit slip with the cash entry and then listed all the credit card receipts. She zipped up the night deposit bag and flexed her tired shoulders as she rose from the desk.

It was a cool morning when she came to work at six and she put the sweater she had worn to work over her shoulders, and reached for her pocketbook from the coat hanger hook. Since Joe had been on vacation she carried a large bag that had a big enough side pocket to hold the night deposit bag. She looked around the office, turned off the light, and then walked through the Beanery to the front door. She took her key out and locked the door. As she turned to walk to her car her world was shattered.

Alowisha Osgood had been watching this woman leave the Beanery every night for a week. He had timed her every night when she locked the door, unlocked her car and drove to the bank. Joe DiAngelo had fired him a month ago from his job as a dishwasher. It had all started when Osgood stormed into Joe’s office demanding that he get more money. They had a shouting match with Joe accusing him of constantly being late for work. Alowisha had reached over Joe’s desk with his fist drawn back and Joe reached in the desk and took out a gun and pointed it at him.

I gave you this job while you were on probation for knocking that old lady down and stealing her pocketbook. And that’s the thanks I get. You come in here demanding more money and threaten me. You get your fat ass out of this restaurant or I’ll get the police to put you back in jail where you belong.

Alowisha Osgood was eighteen years old with the intelligence of a ten year old. He left school after the tenth grade and drifted into a world of petty crime preying on older women in the shopping mall parking lots. He was seventeen when he was arrested the third time and received a six month sentence in the county Juvenile jail. The arresting officer knew his family in Gifford and they asked him for help when Osgood was released on probation. He was a frequent customer of the Beanery and asked Joe to give him a job as dishwasher.

This night Alowisha had parked his sister’s car in front of the Laundromat that was two stores down from the Beanery. He made sure the attendant saw him as he put his clothes in the washing machine. I need quarters for this dollar, he said to the attendant with a big smile. Would you keep your eye on my machine while I go outside for a smoke?

She nodded yes and went back to reading her magazine. Alowisha timed his departure so he was at the entrance to the Beanery just as Joyce Neely locked the door.

Alowisha, what are you doing here? said Joyce as she turned from locking the door. He grabbed her pocketbook and Joyce instinctively swung her arm at his face. Alowisha punched her so hard in the head that she fell backwards. Her head hit the cement parking stop and she passed out. He looked down at her. Shit lady, why in the hell did you go do that.

He grabbed her pocketbook that had fallen from her hand, walked quickly to his sister’s car, threw the pocketbook into the back seat, and went into the Laundromat and took a seat while his laundry finished.

Joyce Alexander Neely died in the parking lot of the West Side Beanery from a fractured skull.

It was forty minutes since Joyce had called. What is taking her so long to get home? I hope she didn’t stop to talk to one of her girlfriends. I need a cup of coffee. He waited another five minutes and then he went into the kitchen and dialed her cell phone. There was no answer. He quickly dialed the Beanery and again no answer. Neely shook his head. Something in his gut gave him an uncomfortable feeling and he grabbed his car keys and his cell phone from the table. He felt panic that left him shaking. He fumbled the ignition key as he tried to start the car. His stomach was churning and he was breathing in short gasps. Neely took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

He left the parking lot and headed to the Southern Trust Bank on 21st Street where he knew Joyce made the night deposits. There was no sign of her car and so he drove to the West Side Beanery. He spotted her car and pulled into the parking lot. When he stopped behind her car he saw Joyce lying on the ground. He jumped out of the car and bent down to pick Joyce up in his arms. She felt cold as he rocked back and forth on his knees. A sob so strange came from his throat that he didn’t believe his ears. No…. No…. No…. No….Joyce you can’t leave me. No….No…. on and on he moaned.

A woman carrying a basket of laundry heard his cries as she walked to her car. She dropped her basket and took her cell phone from her pocket and dialed 911.

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Chapter Two

By the time Detective Tom White arrived on the scene there was a small crowd of curious people standing on the edge of the parking lot behind the police cars. The ambulance had already left the scene taking Joyce to the coroner’s office. Roy Neely was sitting in the driver seat of one of the police cars with the door open. He was bent over holding his head in his hands when Detective White approached him. Mr. Neely, I’m Detective White. Would you mind coming with me to my car so we can talk?

Neely looked up at White and then put his head back down in his hands.

Sir, I know this is a big shock but I really think it would be better if you would come with me away from all these curious folks.

Neely stood up slowly and Detective White led him to 21st Street where his car was parked. White opened the passenger door and Neely leaned on the door handle as he sat down. White slowly closed the door and walked around to the driver side. When he started up the car Neely broke down in tears. Neely couldn’t stop and White quietly waited for Neely to calm down. Neely reached for his handkerchief and wiped his face. His cries became deep sobs and then he finally sat up straight, took a deep breath, and said Why Joyce?, why not me?

Detective Tom White had been on the police force for twenty years and he thought he had dealt with every reaction to violence. This time he had such a feeling for the man sitting next to him that he couldn’t speak. He came very close to tears. White drove out of the parking lot not knowing where he was going. Finally a few blocks down 21st Street he turned to Neely and said, Would it be O.K. if I drove you home and we talked there?

It’s the Queen Apartment complex on 27th Avenue. Neely said between sobs.

Detective Tom White pulled into the Queen parking lot. Which building is your apartment in?

Number four on your left.

White pulled into a parking space and turned the motor off. Do you want to tell me what happened here or do you want to go in the house?

Let’s go in. I need to make a lot of phone calls.

The front door was unlocked and there were lights on in the living room and kitchen. As they went into the kitchen they could smell the pot of coffee that Neely had left on when he rushed out. White walked up to the coffee pot and poured two cups and brought them to the kitchen table. Tell me what happened before you make all your phone calls.

Joyce called me from the Beanery to tell me she was ready to close up and come home. Joe DiAngelo has been away on vacation the last two weeks so Joyce has been running the place. The last thing she does is put the days cash and credit card receipts in the night deposit bag, drop it off at Southern Trust and comes right home.

What happened?

I told her to hurry home so we could have a cup of coffee. She had left some chili for me in the fridge and I had finished eating. I waited thirty minutes and when she didn’t show up I had this strange gut feeling that scared me. I waited another couple of minutes and then I called her cell phone and then the Beanery and got no answer. I really got nervous and so I grabbed my cell and car keys and drove by the bank first to see if her car was there. Then I drove to the Beanery and when I drove in the lot I saw her on the ground in my car lights. I don’t know what happened then. Someone must have called 911 and the police came, the medics and then you.

Did you see anything else when you first drove in the parking lot?

No. I just saw Joyce on the ground.

The police say there was no evidence of gunshot wounds. When you picked her up was there a lot of blood?

Neely took a deep breath. He picked up the cup of coffee and held it in his hands. As he looked into the black cup of coffee he said almost in a whisper, She was cold. The medics told me that they thought she had been knocked to the ground by a heavy blow and hit the back of her head on the parking stop. The medic said that the coroner’s office will confirm all that. I just can’t believe this is happening. Neely put the cup down.

The police didn’t find any pocketbook where she was knocked over. This leads me to think it might have been a robbery. What kind of pocketbook did your wife use?

I don’t know. I think she said something about taking her big pocketbook that she could put the night deposit bag in.

Do you have any idea what it looked like?

Not really. She had a couple different ones. Maybe you should look in her closet.

Tom White stood up and took a sip of the coffee. Look, you have told me all I need to know for now. Don’t worry about your car. I will have someone drive it home for you. If you are going to be all right I’ll leave you to make those phone calls.

I’ll manage, Detective.

Neely couldn’t decide whom to call first. He sat quietly at the table. I’m the unluckiest man alive. I have had two beautiful loves in my life and they both were taken away from me. Where’s the justice? I don’t understand why me. What did I ever do to deserve this? I almost didn’t make it when Belle died after her eighteen-month battle with cancer. Now this stupid incident takes Joyce from me in an instant. I didn’t even get to tell her how much I loved her, how she brought me back from the living dead. I’m not sure I can live with this. Neely put his head in his hands and the tears started flowing again. He stood up and wiped his face on the kitchen towel. It smelled with the odor of the laundry soap that Joyce always used. He took a deep breath and picked up his cell phone.

He scrolled through his address book name by name too nervous to select a name for the first phone call. On the second scroll through, he stopped at his oldest daughter Terry’s name. How can I call her at this time of night? It’s eleven and I’ll scare the hell out of her just by dialing her number. Maybe I should just wait until the morning. There’s nothing that can be done tonight anyway. He put the cell phone down on the kitchen table and poured the cold coffee from his cup in the kitchen sink. He refilled a cup and carried it to the living room. He sat in his lounge chair sipping the bitter coffee thinking of how his life had changed in the last few hours. Neely could not sit still. He stood, put the cup down on the coffee table, picked up the remote and clicked the television on for the late news. He closed his eyes and his mind went blank as the announcers went through the local car wrecks on I-95 and the Florida Turnpike. He sat up straight when he heard the woman co-anchor say, There was an unidentified woman killed in an apparent robbery in Vero Beach earlier this evening. The police have released no details at this time.

Neely turned the television off and took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his best friend Eric Holloway.

Eric Holloway woke with a start when the phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and said, You S.O.B., you woke me up. Do you have another terrorist to put away?

No. Joyce has been killed.

Say that again and tell me I didn’t hear what I thought you said.

There was a robbery at the restaurant a couple of hours ago. Someone struck Joyce and she fell and hit her head on a parking stop.

Eric Holloway was suddenly wide-awake. Roy, what do you want me to do?

I don’t know. I just had to tell someone what happened. I’m too scared to call my kids at this time of night.

Do you want me to call them?

I don’t think so. I’ll start making the calls when I hang up. Maybe you could fly down tomorrow and help me make all the arrangements. I’m not sure I know where to start. You two were my rock of Gibraltar when my Belle died. But this is so different.

Roy, we will be there as soon as we can. Tonight you make sure you call Terry first and then have her make the rest of the calls. Don’t you do anything more until we get to Vero.

I have to call her Aunt who lives here in Vero and tell Lance Stern at the Flight Academy. There was already a mention of the robbery on the late TV news but they didn’t identify the victim.

You better call Lance Stern right now. He may have heard the TV news.

What can I say Eric? The two loves of my life taken from me.

There is nothing you can say or do to change what life throws at you. You just have to keep the battle of living going on. I’ll be there as fast as I can to help arrange things.

Thanks Eric. I knew you would know what I had to do. I can’t seem to focus on anything at the moment.

Eric Holloway put the phone down. He sat quietly for a moment and then said to Anne, That poor man needs taking care of. I’m not sure he can survive this blow.

Neely picked up his cell phone and stared at it. Finally he dialed Terry, his oldest daughter. She answered immediately, What’s wrong, Dad?

Neely was crying quietly as he replied, Joyce has been killed in a robbery at the restaurant.

I can’t believe what you just said. What happened?

I don’t know exactly. I had just talked to her as she was closing and making up the night deposit. When she didn’t show up I got nervous and drove to the bank and then to the Beanery. She was on the ground. The medics thought she had been knocked over and hit her head on the parking stop. That’s all I know now. Look, Eric is coming down to help me do what has to be done. You call your sister and Mark and then I’ll let you know what the arrangements are.

Don’t you need me to come down right now to help you?

Baby, I’m not sure anybody can help me. I’ve lost the two loves of my life. It was a long eighteen months fighting the cancer with your Mother and now this one, in an instant, without even a chance to tell Joyce how she saved my life.

Dad, you know what you have always told us, to keep walking when the going gets tough. Well, you need to remember that now more than ever.

I know. Make the calls for me and I’ll call you with all the arrangements.

Neely calmed down and made one more call to Lance Stern, his boss at the Flight Safety Academy. He was not up to an emotional call to Joyce’s Aunt Rose so decided to call her in the morning. He poured himself a tumbler of Scotch and eventually dozed off in the lounge chair.

Neely was teaching Joyce to fly. Hold it nice and soft. That’s it Joyce. Be gentle and smooth with this airplane. See that cloud over there. Bank a little left and fly right into it. That’s the way. Now just keep looking at the instrument panel. That’s right; just keep your airspeed steady. Stay smooth with the wheel, don’t go up and down. Hold right on 8,000 feet altitude. Keep your wings level. See, you flew right through that cloud back into the sunshine. You are doing great. Neely woke with a start. Joyce was so real in his dream he couldn’t believe she had left this world. His sadness overwhelmed him and he shook with sobs as he fought the vision that he would never see Joyce again.

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Chapter Three

The Unitarian Church was slowly filling with people. There was a line of people waiting to sign the guest book. As the sanctuary filled, Neely and his family, along with Joyce’s Aunt Rose and her only cousin all waited quietly in the side entrance to the sanctuary. Two brothers of Joyce’s first husband Bob came up to Neely and shook his hand. They could hear the crowd noise as everyone settled in. It seemed like an eternity to Neely before the usher opened the door. Neely waited a minute and then led the family into the first row. The organ continued playing a selection of Joyce’s favorite music. Neely closed his eyes and sat up straight. Since his family had arrived he had said few words, barely acknowledging they existed. Terry and Nancy, his daughters, with a lot of help from Eric and his wife, had made all the arrangements for the funeral. Roy refused to deal with it.

The minister started the service and his mind was somewhere else as if Joyce was still beside him. Joyce there was so much more we had to do. I wanted to take you around the world. You were going to get your pilots license. We were going to buy a house. Why did you leave me now?

The minister paused before he spoke. Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a family prayer many years ago. I have read it many times and it was a favorite reading of Joyce who first brought it to my attention over ten years ago before Bob died. I read it to you today because it represents how Joyce felt about her life. The