Close Betrayal

By O'mar Loutin

Raz flee his home country in the middle of war and find himself in a new country. To blend in he change his name to Nedroy Nugent. After working as a porter, he manage to land himself a job as a messenger boy in an insurance company. A few years later with ambition and drive he bought the company and name it NIC. When Nedroy died his son was the one who should inherit the estate but that wasnt to be. His son Fitzroy was thrown head on into the world that was hidden from him which now open to reveal the true intention of persons close to him. Fitzroy must learn to separate his emotional feeling from the reality that seeks to destroy him and his future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503536364

O'mar Loutin

O’Mar Loutin is the first born of the second set of twin boys, he is ten of twelve children for Mr and Mrs Loutin. Born in a rural community called Connors sixteen miles on the outskirts of Old Harbour Saint Catherine. He now lives and work in the parish of Westmoreland. I am a fun loving person, who is self motivated and driven. I have six finish novels just waiting to hit the market.

Book preview

One

Three men entered the compound of the MacGregor Bank. They didn’t enter through the entrance gate in their car. It was ten minutes to two a.m. on a Wednesday, and they weren’t there to conduct legal transactions. They gained entry by crawling up the water gutter from one mile away. Hours of research conducted daily, posing as bank customers revealed that the bank employed no guards in the night, only in the day. At night the bank is secured by a fully up-to-date alarm system.

As he opened the door, the alarm went off. That’s the work of an amateur, one would say, but the door was opened by Leon, one of the best in the field. Leon used his laser to turn off the alarm quickly. He knew that the alarm company could stay in their office and monitor the system. If the alarm buzzed for over a certain time, then they knew that something was wrong. He was determined to be in and out of the bank before the company could send someone to investigate. He led his friends through the once-closed gate that required electronic keys, down the aisle to the vault door.

Once again Leon broke the code to the vault and opened the door in record time. Normally he would have leave the others to do their work. His job was to get the doors opened, but not today. This operation was planned by him and his friends, and he was to help carry the money out of the bank. He stood aside to allow the others to do their parts.

The Alan Alarm Company was started by W. L. Alan back in 1980. He came to Jamaica from Canada as a tourist in 1976 and fell in love with the island. He returned in 1980 and married a Jamaican lady, set up his company, and never returned home. His marriage produced two boys. He died in 2005, leaving the company to his wife. When she died in 2008, the company passed over to his two sons.

The red light and the flash that went with it suddenly erupted in the quiet office of AA. Mark woke with a start and glanced toward the computer to see which company had the light on. Before he could move to the computer to get a better look, the light switch from red went back to green. Because he didn’t have a good memory, he wasn’t able to recall that it was the Macgregor Bank. He dismissed the idea that maybe something was wrong at the bank but praised his brother’s idea of doing a double set on the alarm in case a vibration set it off.

They had ten minutes maximum to go in and take the money and exit the bank. They were gone six minutes when the first two sets of bags left the bank. By the time the others returned, the last two sets of bags would be ready. Leon and Max exited the bank swiftly and approach the gutter carefully. They knew the journey this time wouldn’t be as easy as the one before. The bag would pose a bit of a setback, and that was the reason why they set off, leaving Terry. When they reached the exit, they found Max’s cousin, the driver, waiting to help load the money in the car. Leon left them to pack the bags and returned to help Terry with the others. He found him struggling with the two bags three quarters of the journey. He took one from him.

In less than half an hour, the job was over, and they were on their way to Terry’s rented apartment to split up the money. The year is 2010.

Terry Monroe was born on March 10 and spent every birthday since he was six planning to rob a bank. At the age of six, he watched a cowboy show and saw how a bank robbery had been done, from that day he made his plan. He was born in Good Hope, Westmoreland, on a small farm owned by his uncle. He would steal three to six eggs a day—no more than that—to sell to make pocket money.

At the age of thirteen, he was expelled from Good Hope All-Age School because he was caught stealing the headmaster’s money. He was given a flogging and then handed over to the police. He spent two years in a boy’s home in Manchester before he escaped to Kingston.

Max was born in downtown Kingston and spent most of his school days catching fish and swimming in the Kingston Harbour. At the age of ten, he was caught stealing bananas in the market. At first he didn’t want to steal bananas, but he was hungry.

The owner for the stall didn’t beat him. Instead she took him in, and she fed and sent him to school daily. One evening, Max came home early to find the lady counting her sales for the day. He didn’t asked her how much it was but watched as she hide it, and he took it away. He didn’t wait for the lady to call the police; he ran away from downtown.

Leon was on his second year of university when he was forced to drop out due to lack of funds. In the first year, his fee was paid in full by his pastor, but the pastor died just as he was going into second year. He managed to start the first semester of the second year but couldn’t continue, simply because his mother couldn’t afford it. He didn’t go back home to Saint Ann but stayed in town with a school friend.

Leon got a job as a loader for a hardware’s sand truck, loading sand. He worked at the J C Hardware for one year, then he met Terry one night at a street session while he was smoking a cigarette and became friends instantly. Over a two-month period, Leon made more money doing work for Terry than he made at the hardware for six months. Leon quit the job at the hardware and took on a partnership with Terry, stealing cell phones.

They met Max trying to steal a car but the alarm went off, and he ran away. Leon showed Max how to disarm the alarm in less than one minute.

The bank job was their best hit, and they planned to stop robbing, satisfied that $20 million each was more than enough.

Two

The ringing of the phone woke him; however, he wasn’t fully awake. He was dozing off again when the phone rang a second time. He cursed to himself and picked up his lime-green custom-made phone given to him by his CEO for his fifty years in the company. He gently said hello and waited for the voice on the other side to respond.

Good morning, Sir Nugent. I must relate this news to you, sir.

He sat up straight in his bed, fully alert. The voice had never called him at home, let alone at this time of the morning. What do I owe the pleasure to, Thomas?

Sir, information yet to be given to the owner of a bank is that it has been robbed.

Which bank is it, Thomas?

Thomas didn’t answer. He didn’t curse. It was very important, sir, that I tell you this information, Thomas repeated.

A curse word escaped Nugent’s lips without his knowledge.

The other voice shouted out The Macgregor Bank has been robbed! then the phone went dead.

Mr. N. Nugent wasn’t always called that. He was born Raz Assad in Syria in 1930, first son for his father, Mr. D. Assad. He was born at a time when the French had taken over the country. For days and nights, six weeks straight, gunshots rang out over his village, forcing his family to hide under their house. They lived under the house until he was six years old, then the leader changed. When he was ten years old, the leader died, and then war broke out again. When he was fourteen his mother and father were killed. At age fifteen, his uncle fled Syria with him to England.

Raz lived with his uncle and two cousins in Manchester for one year before Immigration caught up with then. They were taken to the Manchester police station for four days, then his uncle died. The police didn’t want to deal with the legality of the matter and turned the prisoners lose on the street with the promise that if they were caught again, they would be deported immediately.

The police van drove them forty miles out of the city, two miles into a dense forest, and rough hands pulled them out of the van. No words were exchanged as the police reentered the van and drove away. Raz and his two cousins walked for a mile and came to a fork in the road. His older cousin held his brother’s hands and took the road leaving to the right, willing him to follow them. He didn’t. Instead, he took the left road. He spent the rest of the day walking without resting. He would, at times, drink some water from the many standpipes on the road. When night fell, he was extremely tired. By then he had covered fourteen miles. He spent the night under a large tree with high roots.

When the day got light, he didn’t set out walking because both feet were swollen. Toward the middle of the day, he set off looking for a town. He came to the town of Southampton. He spend the rest of the day walking around the town, trying to familiarize himself with the layout, but he was continually distracted by the sights he had never seen before: multistory houses made of bricks, stores with glass windows, vendors selling fruits, even parrots in cages. He walked on until he reached the harbor. He was transfixed by the vast ocean. It was the first time he had seen that amount of water. No one had told him about the great ships that crossed the high seas, not even in school. When he read the word ship on a large object there, he decided to take a ride on it to wherever it was going.

As the sun disappeared behind the huge houses, he decided to look for somewhere to spend the night. He took a side road and kept walking; Raz then turn left on a deserted street filled with abandoned houses. The area bore the remnants of a flourishing street in the past. He peeped inside a large brown house cautiously—darkness and silence, no one to be seen. He pulled together a few boards that were on the floor and made a temporary bed, crawled onto it, and fell asleep.

When he woke, the sun was shining through the gaps in the roof. He turned over and glanced at the open door. No one was there; no sound echoed down the street. First things first, said Raz to himself, where do I find something to eat?

He made his way to where the morning market was being set up. He had not seen such variety of fruits, vegetables, greens, and nuts before in all his life.

He walked over to a tall white man selling oranges and fruits he didn’t know the names of and asked the price. The vendor didn’t wonder where he had slept. He told Raz the price of each fruit. His eyes followed Raz to the ship and back. He told Raz without being asked that the ship set sail 7:00 p.m. that night, and after the boy handed over the money, the vendor handed him a bottle of water. He thanked the vendor and walked back to his sleeping area.

In the summer of 1946, Raz Assad boarded the WW White Star, bound for Kingston, Jamaica. He took with him a small traveling bag that contained two pairs of pants and four shirts.

He didn’t