Corporate Agreement

Arriving at the designated floor, Kwame led Astrid down the corridor to her suite. The door swung open to reveal a spacious living area, adorned with elegant furnishings and tasteful decor.

Kwame gestured towards the bedrooms; his demeanor professional yet attentive. "I'll give you some time to settle in, Ms. Bjornsdottir," he said. "If you would like to eat, please let us know and we'll arrange it through room service. The restaurant in the hotel is good but we recommend that you stay in your room unless necessary."

Astrid smiled at Kwame. "Thank you, Kwame. You and your team have done a wonderful job of setting this up for me. I do have one question though, is there a gym here? I could really do with a bit of a run."

Kwame nodded. "There is a gym on the first floor. We've already checked it out and it is fairly well equipped. We recommend that you use that for any exercise and not to leave the hotel to run."

Astrid nodded and thanked him for his guidance before retreating to her room. With a sigh, she made her way to the plush armchair by the window, her fingers deftly retrieving her phone from her purse.

Settling into the comfortable chair, Astrid tapped the screen of her phone, dialing Erik's number back in Nordland. She couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness as she waited for him to pick up, looking forward to hearing his voice.

After a few rings, Erik's voice came through the line, warm and familiar. "Hey, Asa! It's good to hear from you, I was wondering when you were going to get there. How's everything going in Brazzaville?" he greeted her in Nordic, his tone laced with genuine concern.

Astrid smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her husband. "Hi, Erik. It's been a busy day, but I made it to the hotel safely," she replied, her voice tinged with fatigue.

Erik's voice softened with understanding. "I'm glad to hear that. How was the flight? Are you settling in, okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his tone.

Astrid sighed, her exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. "The flight was fine, the transit in Paris was a bit chaotic but I'm here now. It's been a long day. I just got checked into my room, and the head of my security team has given me a security briefing," she explained, her words punctuated by a yawn and a rumble in her stomach. She really needed to get something to eat and maybe some exercise before bed.

"Sounds rough down there," he said. "Please stay safe, ok?"

She smiled. "Of course I will," she said. "Is Ingrid there?"

"She's just gone over to Freya's for a little bit to play. I'll get her back soon for dinner and her homework." Erik replied, referring to one of Ingrid's best friends who live opposite them in Nordhaven.

There was a brief pause before Erik spoke again, his voice tinged with curiosity. "So, when do you meet with the Minister?"

Astrid hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting to the upcoming meeting with Minister Ngoy and the daunting task ahead. "The first meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I'll let you know how it goes," she replied, trying to sound confident despite her nerves.

Erik's voice softened with understanding. "Just remember, Asa, you've got this. You're a pro at this stuff. I have every confidence in you," he said, his words filled with unwavering support.

Astrid felt a swell of gratitude at Erik's words, his encouragement giving her the strength she needed to face the challenge of the negotiations ahead of her. "Thanks, Erik. I really appreciate that," she replied, her voice filled with emotion.

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics, the familiar banter between the two of them bringing a sense of comfort amidst the distance. As the call drew to a close, Astrid felt a sense of peace wash over her. "I love you, Erik. Take care of yourself and Ingrid for me," she said, her voice soft with affection. "I'll call you tomorrow afternoon when I get back to the hotel."

"I love you too, Asa. Talk to you then," Erik promised.

Hanging up the phone, Astrid looked around the room before settling on her priorities. Unpack her luggage, a quick run in the gym, shower, light dinner, review her notes and then off to bed.

Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling her blonde hair back into a ponytail and wrapping an elastic hair tie to hold it all in place as she knocked on Kwame's bedroom door. She was dressed in her summer running clothing with a Lululemon Cool Racerback Tank Top, Adidas Women's 3-Stripes Shorts and a Nike Pro Women's Sports Bra. On her feet were her favorite Adidas Ultraboost running shoes.

Surprised that there was no answer, she made her way to the door connecting her suite with the adjoining room and knocked on it. It promptly opened to reveal Malik, one of the other members of the security team. "Ms. Bjornsdottir?" he asked in French.

"Hello Malik, I was just looking to go down to the gym, but I can't seem to find Kwame," she replied in the same language.

"He may have gone for a run himself," Malik replied. "Let me accompany you." He turned and spoke to the other two members of the team in their room. "Just going down to the gym." Astrid could hear some mumbled replies in French and glancing over Malik's shoulder, she saw the other two sitting at the table, cleaning a collection of pistols. Her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the weapons.

Astrid made her way down to the gym, accompanied by the taciturn Malik. Entering the small, but well-appointed gym, she immediately saw Kwame on one of the treadmills. He was setting a blistering pace, his dark face covered in sweat.

When he saw Astrid enter, accompanied by Malik, he pressed the stop button on the machine, the treadmill gradually coming to a halt. Picking up his towel, he wiped his face down and turned to face the pair. "Ms. Bjornsdottir, you have come for some exercise?"

Astrid nodded and Kwame turned to look at Malik. "I can stay here with her." Malik nodded and left. "You look like you've had a bit of a run," she said as he picked up a bottle of water to rehydrate. "Please don't let me stop you," she told him. He nodded and returned to his treadmill, his eyes still on her.

Astrid did some stretches as Kwame started up the running machine again, soon bringing it back up to his earlier pace. As Astrid stretched her legs to warm up, she glanced at the tall, dark figure of her security team leader. A flutter of excitement rippled through the pit of her stomach, and she did her best to suppress the illicit desire.

She hated what Richard had done to her, unleashing her innermost desires; but she also realized that perhaps this was part of who she really was. Since her time with Richard, she hadn't been able to look at black men in the same way. Before she had been blackmailed by him, she had never really looked at them. Sure, some of them were attractive but just in the general sense, such as she'd found certain white men or Asian men to be attractive.

Now, she found that she looked at black men much more often, wondering what they would be like as sexual partners. She swallowed nervously, not knowing how well she'd be able to suppress those desires over the coming days.

Her stretching finished, Astrid made her way to one of the vacant running machines and started it up. She knew she wouldn't be able to match Kwame's blistering pace, but she was determined to get in a good run and perhaps burn off some of that tension that lingered in the pit of her stomach.

As she ran in silence, her ear pods playing a favorite running track, she tried to get into the zone, to focus on her running, her breathing. But she found that she couldn't stop taking small glances at Kwame running nearby.

As he pounded out a rapid pace, his face was one of intense concentration, but she couldn't help but think that he had his eyes on her pale figure. She glanced at him in the mirror, noticing his bulging muscles under his dark skin. He obviously took pride in his fitness and had a body to match. For a brief moment, her mind and focus slipped, imagining what it would be like to be under his dark, black body, to feel him pounding her pale frame with the same energy he was expending on the running machine.

Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on her running, not noticing his dark eyes following her in the mirror.

*****

The next morning, Astrid emerged from her room, the perfect image of corporate chic in the hot, tropical environment. She was wearing a Hugo Boss Etrixe blouse that she had paired with a Reiss Melina textured pencil skirt and a Theory linen-blend blazer, perfect the environment. On her feet were a pair of Cole Haan Grand Ambition Juliana pumps, not too tall as she knew she'd be walking over the course of the day. She skipped her usual tights in deference to the weather, but a quick swipe with her razor in the shower had left her legs smooth and shiny.

Kwame was waiting for her in the living area of the suite, dressed in a smart, light-colored linen suit. "Ms. Bjornsdottir," he greeted her, his expression neutral.

"Good morning, Kwame," she replied with a little smile, idly wondering if he ever changed his expression. "All set?" she asked.

"Ready whenever you are, Ms. Bjornsdottir," he said, collecting his phone from the dining table where the remnants of their room service breakfast sat. He led her outside into the hallway and knocked three times on the door of the next room. It immediately opened to reveal the other three members of the security team.

Together the group made their way in silence to the two vehicles parked in the car park. After a quick inspection of the vehicles, Kwame opened the back passenger door for Astrid. Settling in to the leather seats, Astrid's mind turned towards work and the upcoming meeting with Minister Tshimanga Ngoy, the Congolese government representative for the negotiations. She recalled from her briefing notes provided by Gunnar that Ngoy was a close relative of the President and had his ear. She would have her work cut out for her trying to convince him to renegotiate the proposed deal.

As they approached the Ministry of Energy, Astrid's nervous tension increased. It was an imposing building, clearly built by oil money, that sat amidst the sprawling, untidy shacks, and low buildings of downtown Brazzaville. Kwame spoke briefly to the armed guards at the front gate and the vehicles were waved through.

Pulling up in front of the building, the team disembarked as they were met by a group of soldiers and Ngoy's chief of staff, a small, obsequious man that Astrid took an immediate dislike towards. He introduced himself as Juma and, with an imperious wave, led them towards the Minister's office.

Opening the door, he ushered Astrid inside with Kwame, motioning for the other security team members to wait outside. The looked at Kwame who nodded and followed Astrid into the room.

As Astrid entered the Minister's office, she was greeted by the sight of a spacious, elegantly furnished room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a sweeping view of the city of Brazzaville. Minister Ngoy, a dark skinned, middle-aged Congolese man with a commanding presence, rose from behind his desk to greet her with a smile. Despite the warmth of the room, Astrid shivered inside. It wasn't a warm, friendly smile. It was a cold smile that was required by the circumstances, nothing more.

"Bienvenue à Brazzaville, Mme Bjornsdottir," ("Welcome to Brazzaville, Ms. Bjornsdottir,") he said in French, extending his hand. He was tall, standing over 6 feet. Clean-shaven with dark, deep-set eyes that exuded authority and determination.

"Merci, Monsieur le Ministre Ngoy," ("Thank you, Minister Ngoy,") Astrid replied, shaking his hand firmly. "C'est un plaisir d'être ici." ("It's a pleasure to be here.")

They both took their seats at the sleek mahogany table, the Minister motioning for Astrid to sit opposite him. Kwame took up a position near the door, a silent sentinel observing the interactions taking place before him. The creepy little chief of staff took a seat at Ngoy's right-hand side, glancing at Astrid as she sat down.

As they settled in, Astrid couldn't help but feel a mixture of nerves and determination. This meeting was crucial for securing more favorable terms of the proposed agreement, and she was keenly aware of the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. If she didn't achieve this goal, there would be no way that Anna would sign the deal and she shuddered to think what that would mean when the NEJ visited her next.

"Shall we begin?" the Minister asked, his tone businesslike yet congenial.

"Yes, of course," Astrid replied, pulling out her notebook and pen. Despite having grown up speaking Nordic, she was confident enough in speaking French throughout the delicate negotiations. "I appreciate the opportunity to discuss the terms of the agreement between the Government of the Republic of the Congo and the North Sea Oil and Gas Corporation."

Over the next several hours, they delved into the details of the proposed deal, with Astrid outlining North Sea Oil and Gas Corporation's objectives and concerns, while the Minister provided insights into the Congo government's interests and priorities.

"No," Ngoy said firmly. "I have agreed that we will amend the government intervention provisions and the infrastructure development costs but I will not change our proposed profit split." He gave her a stern look, as if he were addressing the assembled Congolese masses outside the building.

"Ms. Bjornsdottir, let us not mince words here. The resources that lie beneath our soil are not mere commodities to be traded at the whim of foreign corporations. No, they belong to the proud people of the Congo, and it is our duty to ensure that they are recompensed accordingly for their value."

Astrid nodded; her expression carefully neutral as she absorbed the Minister's words. "But Minister, we understand the importance of fair compensation, but we also need to consider the economic benefits that can be derived from a mutually beneficial agreement."

Ngoy waved a dismissive hand, his gaze steely. "Mutually beneficial, you say? Tell me, Ms. Bjornsdottir, what benefit is there for the people of the Congo when their resources are plundered by foreign interests? We have seen this time and time again, with promises of prosperity and development that never materialize. No, we will not be deceived again."

Astrid tried to interject, to offer assurances of her company's commitment to responsible resource extraction, but the Minister cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Enough! Your assurances mean nothing to me. It is clear that your company, like so many others before it, seeks only to exploit our resources for its own gain. Well, I am here to tell you that the days of exploitation are over. The Congo will no longer be bullied into submission by foreign powers."

She swallowed hard. "But Minister, surely there is a way for us to find common ground and negotiate terms that benefit both parties..."

He leaned back in his ornate chair, his expression hardening. "Common ground? Ha! There can be no common ground when one party seeks to rob the other blind. No, Ms. Bjornsdottir, the negotiations are over. I will not entertain any further discussions until your company is willing to offer fair and just compensation to the people of the Congo."

As Astrid listened to the Minister's bombastic rhetoric, a sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of her stomach. It was becoming increasingly clear that he was not interested in reaching a compromise, but rather in stonewalling their negotiations altogether. Gunnar had been right; the pockets of the Russians and the Chinese were deeper than Nordland could afford.

With any likelihood of the proposed changes to the agreement slipping through her fingers, Astrid's mind grappled with her own internal moral dilemma. Could she compromise her professional integrity by attempting to influence Ngoy through other means. What would this mean for herself ethically, could she sleep at night knowing she had gone down this path? What would this mean for her professionally and personally, how would this impact her marriage?

The image of Lars and his soft voice reminding her of the treason charge, loomed large in her mind. Erik and Ingrid, what would happen to them? I'm so sorry, she said, a silent whisper to her loving family all those miles away, unaware of what she was about to compromise for their sakes.

Astrid looked at Ngoy and took a deep breath "Minister, I was wondering...perhaps we could speak...privately...about your government's position on this matter..."

Ngoy regarded her for a long moment, his dark gaze travelling up and down her pale body. He turned his head to his chief of staff. "Juma, leave us," he said, curtly. The chief of staff was sensible enough not to argue with his boss and immediately scampered for the door, signaling Kwame to follow him. Kwame remained motionless.

"It...it's ok...Kwame," Astrid said a mixture of reluctance and nervousness in her voice. "Ms. Bjornsdottir, I am responsible for your safety. I cannot do that if I am not with you," he replied, firmly but calmly.

Ngoy gave a little snigger. "Your man...he can stay...perhaps he will learn something..." Kwame didn't react, simply remaining near the door, his expression neutral. The chief of staff closed the door, leaving the three of them alone.

"So, Ms. Bjornsdottir," Ngoy said, leaning back in his chair. "What is it that you wanted to...discuss?"

Reluctantly, Astrid pushed her chair back and stood; she hated herself, hated what she had been forced to do, firstly by Richard, but now by her own countrymen at the NEJ. She moved towards Ngoy, who sat quite comfortably in his chair at the end of the table.

With a grating noise, he pushed his chair back, making space between him and the table as she moved in front of him. With one last look at Kwame, still standing silently near the door, she sank to her knees in front of the African Minister.

"Just where you belong..." Ngoy quipped with a little sneer on his face, his demeanor having changed from the façade presented during the negotiations. "Now...you little blonde slut...show me how much you want this contract signed..."

She knew what was expected of her, what she had silently agreed to in order to secure the change of the terms. She'd gone down a path she'd hoped she'd never have to go. With a resigned sigh, she reached out and grasped the zipper of Ngoy's trousers, her pale fingers trembling slightly as she pulled it down.

Ngoy watched her with a smug expression, his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. "That's it, Astrid," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Show me how much you want this deal, you little Nordic slut..."

Astrid's stomach churned with disgust at his words, but she pushed aside her revulsion, focusing instead on the task at hand. With a deep breath, she reached inside Ngoy's trousers and felt his black cock spring free, thick, and pulsing with arousal. "That's it...it's always so enjoyable seeing you European women down on your knees..." he sneered at her.

As she exposed the Minister's dark shaft, Astrid couldn't help but compare it to those of Richard and Marcus, whose encounters still lingered in her mind. Though smaller in size, it possessed a deep black hue that contrasted starkly against her fair skin.

Kwame, standing nearby, observed the scene with his usual stoic expression, his dark eyes betraying nothing as Astrid tentatively wrapped her pale white fingers around the Ngoy's dark shaft. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, adding to the pressure she already felt.

Suppressing a shudder, Astrid leaned forward and took the head of Ngoy's cock into her mouth, her lips closing around him with practiced ease. She could taste the saltiness of his skin as she began to move her head back and forth, her tongue swirling around him in slow, deliberate strokes.