Manhunter

by Chris Ryan

  ‘Talk,’ Mallet hissed threateningly.

  ‘The Russians are going to convince Seguma to stand down,’ said Lang. ‘He’ll announce his resignation as president. Today.’

  ‘That’s why you’re meeting the Russians later?’ Bowman asked. ‘To make this announcement?’

  Lang nodded feebly.

  ‘It’s going to be broadcast on state radio and TV in Karatandu. Then the Russians are going to take over the country by force. Put their own man in charge. And there’s nothing you can do to stop them.’

  Sixteen

  There was a beat of cold silence in the room. Bowman sat very still, the breath trapped in his throat. He saw Mallet’s jawline visibly tense, the skin stretching across his weathered face. Lang hung his head low and stared at a spot between his feet. Then Mallet spoke up.

  ‘You and your Russian mates must be living in la-la land. Why would Seguma agree to give up the throne?’

  Lang slowly lifted his head. ‘He doesn’t have a choice. The Russians are going to launch a military coup, with the backing of the KUF.’

  ‘Who the fuck are they?’

  ‘The Karatandu United Front. The main rebel paramilitary force.’

  Bowman said, ‘I’ve heard of them. There was an interview on TV with their leader yesterday. Some bloke with golden teeth.’

  ‘Kakuba,’ Lang said. ‘General Moses Kakuba. He’s ex-army. Used to be one of Seguma’s most loyal officers. He switched sides a few years ago. Reckons he was overlooked for a promotion because of his tribal heritage. Now he leads the armed wing of the KUF. Fancies himself as the next president of Karatandu.’

  ‘He’ll get it, if he’s doing a deal with the Russians.’

  Lang’s lips twisted up at the corners in an ugly sneer. ‘He’s being played. The Russians are manipulating him. Kakuba thinks they’re partners, but they’re the ones calling the shots. He’s just another lefty idealist taking whatever help he can get.’

  ‘What if Seguma puts up a fight?’ Mallet asked.

  ‘He won’t,’ Lang replied. ‘They’ve given Ken an ultimatum. Either he agrees to stand down peacefully, or there’s gonna be a bloodbath.’

  ‘It’ll never work,’ the Voice said. ‘The army is loyal to Seguma. He’s been very generous to the generals over the years.’

  ‘That’s why the Russians need the announcement from Ken. Once his men find out he’s thrown in the towel, they won’t stand by him. Not this time. Why fight for a leader who’s given up?’

  ‘What about the rest of his inner circle?’

  ‘Some of them will come over. The ones we’ve paid off. The rest will get the old head-chopping treatment.’

  Mallet glowered at him. ‘That’s why the Kremlin reached out to you. You’re well connected in Karatandu, you know all the key figures to bribe. You and that dipshit brother of yours.’

  ‘Don’t talk about Freddie that way. I’m warning you.’

  ‘See this?’ Mallet pointed to his face. ‘This is me shitting myself, Davey.’

  Lang stared daggers at the Scot.

  ‘The plan makes sense,’ the Voice said. ‘If Moscow can convince Seguma to step down, they can take over the country without a shot being fired.’

  ‘They’d want to avoid getting sucked into a violent rebellion,’ Bowman said. ‘It could get ugly. People would be outraged.’

  ‘Hasn’t stopped the Russians before,’ Mallet said.

  ‘What’s in this for Seguma?’ asked Bowman.

  ‘He gets to retire peacefully. Which is more than the bloke before him got to enjoy. Ken knows he’s made plenty of enemies over the years. He also knows that you people take him for granted.’

  ‘Britain is a loyal ally,’ the Voice insisted. ‘And we have been for many years.’

  ‘That’s not how Ken sees it. Far as he’s concerned, the support he’s had from Westminster is piss-poor. Yeah, you throw him the odd bone, but when it comes to hard investment, supplying arms and whatnot, you’re not interested. All you care about is bleeding the country dry.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why Seguma would go along with the plan,’ said Bowman. ‘He’s crushed uprisings before. He might think he stands a chance this time.’

  ‘You fucking thick or something? Look at the news, son. Ken’s losing his magic touch. He ain’t as popular as he used to be with his people. Some of those ungrateful scrotes would like to see him hang. Ken knows that the moment he loses power, he’s vulnerable. The Russians are offering him a way out. A chance to retire in peace.’

  ‘And if he refuses?’

  ‘He won’t. Ken has already agreed to the deal.’

  ‘That’s why you set up this meeting today? To rubber-stamp this thing?’

  Lang nodded. ‘Once Ken has announced his resignation, the Russians will whisk his family over from Karatandu. He can enjoy a quiet existence in Monte Carlo or Malta or wherever, enjoying the company of his friends and family, his money.’

  ‘The cash he’s trousered from his country’s oil and gas reserves, you mean.’

  ‘Spare me your sermonising. Ken’s a good man. He’s made a few mistakes in his time, but who ain’t? He brought stability to his country, peace. He put Karatandu on the map. If he was a white man, he would have been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by now.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Bowman. ‘If he hadn’t butchered thousands of his own people.’

  ‘Our government kills people every day.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Mallet said, ‘I can see what Seguma stands to gain from this arrangement. But what’s your interest?’

  ‘I get my cut,’ Lang replied defensively. ‘That’s only reasonable. But I ain’t doing this for the money. I’m doing what’s right for Ken, and the good people of Karatandu.’

  ‘That’s what you tell yourself at night, is it?’

  ‘Piss off.’

  Bowman said, ‘It’s a good deal, but Seguma would never get away with it. He’s a war criminal. The Hague would arrest him sooner or later. He’d end up in jail.’

  Lang gave a lopsided smile. ‘The Russians have thought of that. There’s a back-up plan. If it looks like things might go that way, they’ll whisk him off to Moscow. He’ll see out his days in a luxury dacha.’

  ‘When is the coup happening?’ asked the Voice.

  ‘I’m only the middleman, for fuck’s sake. They didn’t share the details of the operation with me.’

  Mallet slapped a hand down on the table so hard the room seemed to shake. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, if you want our help.’

  ‘You must have some idea of the timeline, surely,’ the Voice said.

  Lang sighed heavily. ‘Look, all I know is that the Russians told me it would be happening sometime tomorrow. They didn’t say exactly when. That’s it. I don’t know nothing else.’

  ‘What about troops, tactics, key targets?’

  ‘I don’t know none of that.’ He paused, wrinkled his brow. ‘The Russian ambassador did mention something about a few guys they were sending in to Karatandu.’

  ‘What guys?’

  ‘Special Forces. Military advisers. We got pissed on vodka and the Russian started bragging about them. Said some blokes were going in to whip the KUF into shape. Turn ’em into professional soldiers. He reckoned Ken’s army wouldn’t stand a chance against them.’

  ‘How many guys are we talking about?’ asked Casey.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘They wouldn’t need many,’ Bowman commented. ‘A handful of Russian Special Forces to coordinate the rebel forces, capture the main targets and infrastructure. One troop might do it. Ten or twelve guys.’

  ‘Where are they now?’ Mallet said.

  ‘How the fuck should I know? Look, you’re asking the wrong bloke. I’m just the broker.’

  ‘You’re a traitor. You’ve been playing both sides, double-dipping with the Russians. Betraying your country.’

 
‘My loyalty is to Ken,’ Lang replied curtly. ‘No one else. I’m acting in his best interests.’

  ‘Convincing him to hand his country to the Kremlin on a plate? That’s hardly sound advice, Davey.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that. Ken is backed into a corner. The new regime is taking over, whether he likes it or not. I’m trying to fix a deal that works for all parties.’

  ‘Rubbish. Your man Seguma has had his nose in the trough for twenty-four years. Now he wants out, and you’re going to make a percentage at both ends. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘I’m a businessman. I’ve got to have my taste.’

  ‘You’re a fucking crook,’ said Mallet. ‘And a crap one at that. An Essex boy with a shite haircut playing spy games. You thought you were being clever, but now you made one mistake, see.’

  ‘Yeah? What’s that?’

  ‘You trusted the Russians. Big no-no, that. Now they’re double-crossing you. That twat brother of yours is on life support, and you’ve got a big red target painted on your back.’

  A spark of hatred flashed in Lang’s eyes, his lips twitched. He turned to Bowman. ‘Do you know something, son? I don’t think I like your mate. He’s got a terrible mouth on him.’

  Bowman said, ‘Why are the Russians so keen to get involved in Karatandu?’

  ‘Cobalt.’ Lang sniffed.

  ‘Isn’t that the stuff they use in batteries to power electric cars, laptops, phones and so on?’

  Lang nodded and said, ‘That shit is the new oil. There’s a massive rush on it. Everyone wants a piece of the action: the Yanks, the Chinese. Karatandu is sitting on huge reserves of the stuff.’

  ‘I thought most of that comes from the Congo.’

  ‘It does,’ the Voice cut in. ‘That’s where most of the high-grade cobalt is found. But the mining companies discovered large deposits in Karatandu last year.’

  ‘Clean technology,’ Lang said. ‘It’s the future. Oil and gas are history. Electric car batteries use several kilograms of cobalt. And the mineral is in short supply. Whoever gets their hands on the deposits in Karatandu will control the electric vehicle market. Which will be worth billions.’

  ‘That’s not the only reason the Russians are interested in Karatandu, though,’ Mallet put in. ‘Is it?’

  Bowman looked towards the Scot as the latter went on.

  ‘If the Russians take control of Karatandu, they’re gaining a vital strategic foothold in Central Africa. Moscow would love that. Those bastards have been desperate for a slice of the action in the region. They could start making moves on the neighbouring countries. Like the old days, when the Soviet Union was a player in Africa.’

  Lang shook his head vigorously. ‘I don’t know nothing about that. Look, I’ve told you everything I know, I swear.’

  Mallet fixed his merciless gaze on him. The eyes of a born killer.

  ‘You’d better not be lying to us,’ he said. ‘Because if we find out that you’ve withheld information, or sold us a pack of lies, we’ll soon know about it.’

  Bowman heard the clacking of fingers on a keyboard. Then the Voice said, ‘This interview is terminated. John, we’ll speak again later. Once we’ve consulted with our colleagues in the Foreign Office. In the meantime, sit tight.’

  ‘What about my deal?’ Lang demanded.

  ‘Our team will have to put together a protection package. That will take some time. We’ll be in touch.’

  Bowman said, ‘What are we going to do about the Russians?’

  ‘Clearly, we cannot allow them to force President Seguma out of office. We’ll have to discuss the situation, figure out how to respond.’

  ‘How long will that take?’

  ‘Half an hour, perhaps. The Foreign Secretary is on the other line, waiting to be briefed. We’ll have something for you by ten o’clock.’

  The call ended. Mallet closed the screen and turned to Bowman.

  ‘Check in with Tiny,’ he said. ‘Let him know we might be here for a while.’

  ‘We’ll need to update the others, too,’ Bowman said.

  ‘Later. Once we’ve heard back from Six.’

  ‘What about him?’ Bowman pointed to Lang.

  ‘Davey Boy can wait here with us.’ Mallet grinned at the mobster. ‘We don’t want you in the same room as Seguma. You might put ideas in his head.’

  Bowman typed out a short text message to Loader. He popped his head through the door to the staff quarters to check on Roidhead, then returned to the living room. They passed the minutes watching Sky News. The attack at the wedding was still the main story. The rest of the news barely warranted a look-in. There was a brief report on the trade war between the US and China. A thirty-second segment on the elections in Australia. An earthquake had struck in Italy. Another high-street fashion chain had gone into administration.

  The fifth item focused on the growing unrest in Karatandu. The situation had deteriorated badly in the past twenty-four hours. The expected government crackdown had backfired. There was fighting in the streets. Protestors against the security forces. Molotov cocktails, bricks and clubs versus the AK-47. Some of the wealthier citizens were fleeing the capital, the reporter claimed. The US State Department had announced it was pulling its diplomatic staff from the country with immediate effect. General Kakuba gave another interview from his mountain hideout. The gold-toothed leader of the KUF angrily denounced Seguma’s regime and called on his followers to take to the streets.

  Bowman said, ‘If they keep this up, the rebels won’t need the Russians. They’ll run Seguma out of town themselves.’

  ‘Not likely,’ Lang said. ‘They don’t have the resources to defeat the government. They’ll loot some shops, burn a few buildings to the ground, maybe even kill some soldiers, but in the end, they’ll lose.’

  ‘Unless your Kremlin mates help them out,’ Mallet quipped.

  ‘Still won’t be easy. Seguma’s loyal supporters won’t surrender, not without a fight. It would have been better if Ken had stepped aside gracefully. We could have spared the country a lot of grief.’

  Mallet chuckled meanly. ‘You don’t give a crap about these people. The only thing you care about is your bank balance.’

  ‘That’s not fair. I’ve invested heavily in Karatandu over the years. I’ve poured money into hospitals, orphanages, roads. All sorts.’

  ‘You must like the place.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Lang said, ‘I do. The country gets a bad rap in the Western media, but it’s a beautiful place. Once you get out of the cities, the landscape is like an English forest.’

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You won’t ever see it again,’ Mallet said. ‘Not after today.’

  Thirty-eight minutes passed. Mallet stepped out onto the balcony to take a call. Bowman snuck out to the kitchen, locked himself in the utility room and snorted up another one of Lang’s pills. When he headed back into the living room, he noticed Lang giving him a funny look. Mallet was still out on the balcony, talking in a low voice on his phone.

  Lang parted his lips into a sinister grin. ‘How’s that cold?’

  ‘Fine,’ Bowman muttered.

  ‘I’ve seen that look before, you know. In your eyes.’

  Bowman steered his gaze away from Lang. He felt a cold tingling on the nape of his neck.

  ‘You must be in a lot of pain,’ the mobster went on. ‘People who have that look, they’re usually trying to numb something horrible. Some shit they can’t deal with in their lives. Know what I mean?’

  ‘No,’ Bowman said.

  ‘Yeah, you do.’

  He said nothing more. Another four minutes passed, and then the balcony doors swished open. Mallet stepped back inside, tucked his phone away. He nodded at Bowman.

  ‘Six have liaised with their mates in the Foreign Office. They’ve reached a decision.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We need to have a chat with Seguma. Bring him in. Patrick and Alex can sit in on this, too
.’ Mallet’s eyes rested on Lang. ‘You. Fuck-face. Wait on the balcony.’

  ‘That’s not very friendly, son.’

  ‘We’re from the Cell. We’re not in the business of being nice.’

  ‘What about my deal?’

  ‘They’re processing the paperwork now. Shouldn’t take much longer.’

  ‘Yeah, well, speed it up. I’m bored shitless sitting here with you mugs.’

  Bowman left the room and hurried down the hallway. He levered open the study door, motioned for the others to follow him. Seguma glanced up at him, his face stricken with anxiety and fear. Webb and Casey pulled him up from the leather armchair and ushered him back down the hallway into the living room. He entered the living room behind Bowman and abruptly stopped as he caught sight of Lang. The latter was sitting on a chair on the balcony outside, looking miserable. The door had been locked, trapping him on the terrace. There was no other way off, other than the sheer drop to the streets below.

  ‘Take a seat, sir,’ Mallet said, stiffly.

  His tone was friendly enough, but the look in his eyes carried a threat of violence.

  Seguma dropped into the same chair Lang had occupied, took off his trilby hat, placed it on his lap. He watched the others in silence as they sat round the table.

  ‘It’s over,’ Mallet said. ‘Lang told us everything.’

  Seguma glanced outside at Lang. ‘David talked?’

  ‘He spilled his guts. Gave us chapter and verse on your deal with the Russians.’

  Mallet briefly explained the situation to Webb and Casey. The Russian conspiracy to force Seguma from power and put their own guy in office. The threat to violently overthrow Seguma’s regime if he refused to agree to the terms on offer. Lang’s role as an intermediary, taking a percentage from both sides. The cobalt rush.

  Casey said, ‘I’m surprised.’

  Mallet said, ‘About what?’

  ‘How did Lang manage to keep this whole thing secret for so long? We’ve been watching him for months. Surely someone must have picked up on it at Vauxhall.’

  ‘Not necessarily. A deal this big, Lang will have been cautious. More than usual.’

  ‘But he must have left a trail. Electronic comms, messages.’

  ‘The Russians could have advised him on all of that,’ Mallet said. ‘They’d have a system in place.’