The Prime Minister of Tawa: Chapter 9
Continued from Previous Page
For some strange reason, Mash happened to be thinking along the same lines as Stephen Seymour as he left the party head quarters, clutching the pieces of paper which Horan had given him. He needed a good advisor to teach him the ropes, to show him the pitfalls, the minefields, the obvious ambushes, and the dead ends. His security guards were waiting for him outside the conference room and they took up positions around him. One of them ran ahead to get his car. When he came out of the party office, he saw that there was a huge crowd of people waiting outside. And they were not just party workers. Word of his presence had got around and ordinary people had gathered to catch a glimpse of Seleem Zoloda’s son. As soon as they saw him, they started to shout and scream. They made him a bit nervous. It was as if he was an animal in a zoo with a horde of noisy school children outside his cage. Thankfully, his guards formed a cordon around him and got him into his car. With a security guard sitting next to the driver and the rest of them escorting him, his car drove off.
Mash returned to his thoughts. He needed a good advisor. Someone not affiliated to Horan Samiban and Peelee Threeman. It was his fault that he was not in contact with a single one of his school friends. Not that he had many school friends when he was a student at the Royal Moshee High School. He had been a loner and his status as the Prime Minister’s son had insulated him from the need to have friends. After the coup, the very thought of Tawa and Tawans made him angry and scared. He remembered receiving letters of support from some of his former classmates, which he did not even read properly. Slowly the letters had stopped as General Naranin consolidated his grip over Tawa. After Horan became Prime Minister, there was some effort made to contact him and get him to return. He had rebuffed them all. It was not his fault actually. At that time, he was quite hopeful that he would make partner at Halboroughs. In which case it made no sense for him to establish contact with a few politicians from Tawa. He had made a clean break with Tawa. He had made a new life for himself and his family. But on second thoughts, maybe he ought to have met those people who tried to meet with him. It would have been sensible to have a fall-back plan in case he did not make partner. However, five years ago, he had been so confident of eventually making partner that he did not need to make such a fall-back plan. So, so confident, he had been. It was only a year and a half ago when he failed to make it for the first time that alarm bells started ringing. At least then he ought to have started to follow the happenings in Tawa more closely. If only he had done that, he wouldn’t be a total ignoramus about the ins and outs of Tawan politics.
He flipped through the papers which Horan had given him. He came to the list of candidates. He hadn’t even heard of most of them. It wouldn’t do. He would be eating out of Horan’s hand for a while after he became Prime Minister. Think! Mash! Think! He repeated to himself as he used to while playing chess as a kid. Most problems had a solution. It was just a matter of finding a few good people in Tawa who could give him some sensible advice and the right steer.
He was sure that the candidates selected to represent the TFP in the election would all be Horan’s hand-picked men. If the DCI’s report was to be believed, he was all set to win. However, he would inherit a Parliament full of men ready to do Horan’s bidding. There was nothing to be done for the moment. He would have to stay afloat, go with the flow and wait for his opportunity to break free from Horan.
To be Continued