by Nick Elliott
‘I can understand why you are here and I will lay my cards on the table. But just so you know, Mendesa seized Nzinga. He commandeered a helicopter from the army and one of his mercenaries flew it up to her base at Kintani. Mendesa himself fired into the crowd there.
‘And I would help you find Mendesa to do with as you would wish. I would pull the trigger for you. But he has gone.’
‘What do you mean he’s gone?’
‘Events have been moving fast in the last few hours. Your friend from the presidential guard told you about the assassination of Loma but he may not have heard what has been happening in the city these last few hours, and here at the fort.
‘Mendesa was smart, or thought he was. He already had his own local militia in the city: a private force of loyal thugs drawn mostly from the army’s ranks and the poorest neighbourhoods. They were promised land and cash payments in dollars. They were promised power and influence. So they were already standing by awaiting his orders.
‘Mendesa knew that the presidential guard had killed Loma but he broadcast to his followers that he personally had struck the fatal blow. Then he and his mercenaries marshalled the local insurgents together and ordered them to kill anyone they suspected of being loyal to Loma; and anyone who challenged his right to take power. And he told them to rape their women and daughters. Rape is an established weapon of war as you know. By forcing a young woman to bear the enemy's child they spread fear and the community is then easier to control.
‘But let me tell you something else about Mendesa that you may not know. I do know him. He is entirely unpredictable. He is outwardly smooth and sophisticated, but he’s a sadist and a psychopath. He is without empathy or compassion. I’ll give you an example. They say he enjoys watching prostitutes being murdered while having sex. He arranges these things for his own pleasure. It didn’t surprise me at all that he chose to fly up to Kintani, not just to grab Nzinga, but for the pleasure of slaughtering those people. He is evil.
‘But just like Loma, Mendesa underestimated the presidential guard and where their loyalties lie. So things didn’t go according to plan.’
‘Go on,’ I said as he paused to drink his whisky.
‘Mendesa’s mercenaries were already advancing on the palace. They encountered the guard. There was a firefight. There were heavy losses on both sides, but the mercenaries were outnumbered and wiped out - to the last man.’
‘Where is Mendesa now then?’
‘He has fled. But I fear he will return one day. When the guard had wiped out the mercenaries they went after Mendesa’s militia, the insurgents I mentioned. The guard quickly outgunned them, most of them anyway. They weren’t well organised and were poorly armed. So apart from a few pockets of resistance the guard are pretty much in control, at least in the city, and at least for now.’
‘And Nzinga?’
‘Ah, Nzinga. She is safe now and I will open the way for her to take power, but I have a favour to ask.’
‘You can influence that? You are close to her, I’ve heard, but do you have the guard with you?’
‘The guard is loyal to Nzinga. They see her as I do and since you are here, I suspect as you do too. They see her as the nation’s hope. And remember, the presidential guard is an elite force drawn from a military academy which was established by the Portuguese before independence. They are educated and they are united. They know the meaning and the importance of loyalty, and we stand united.’
‘And now they await Nzinga?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I understand why they would be loyal to Nzinga, but where do you fit in?’
‘They know that I have brought Nzinga to this point. You may see me as some Machiavellian éminence grise. Perhaps I am, but I assure you my motives are altruistic. First though, this favour, a demand even, for you to put to my old comrade-in-arms, Grant Douglas. I want him to arrange asylum for me. I want full and permanent immunity from prosecution and lifetime protection from the American security services; an annual income of five hundred thousand dollars plus an initial payment of two million dollars for the purchase of an apartment in the city of San Francisco.’ Clearly he’d been rehearsing it all.
‘Forgive me for reminding you of this,’ I said, ‘but as I understand it, you’ve just aided and abetted the killing of a platoon of Navy SEALS, a team of CIA agents and specialists, and the crew of a US-owned oil rig. Do you really think Grant Douglas will want to do business with you now?’
He spoke earnestly: ‘No! Believe me, I didn’t know that’s what they’d do. But Loma’s regime had to fall. Don’t you see? Loma had to be stopped to give this country a chance. I know you understand that, otherwise you wouldn’t have risked your life coming here tonight. And that meant stopping the CIA’s support for him.’
‘So you’re not denying that you tipped your Russian friends off as to the real purpose of the Sea-En Resolution. And that that tip-off led to them launching the attack, from one of their subs out there in the Atlantic I presume. So I doubt very much whether either Langley, or the Brits for that matter, would accede to your request.’
‘Britain? Are you joking? Put me in one of your safe houses and you might as well announce it on Russian TV. Listen, it is your friend Grant Douglas who we’re talking about here. He’s CIA. We know each other from Laos. Speak to him. But in case he thinks I have nothing to offer in return, tell him this too: in return for my asylum terms being met I will share everything I know about Russia’s strategic aims on the continent of Africa. And I’m not talking about what’s in the public domain.’
I looked across at him, sitting relaxed in his white shirt, cream slacks and loafers. ‘You’re a cool one, aren’t you,’ I said. ‘I will speak to him, but he too will have to consult. And you had better give him a taste of what you’re offering.’
‘Of course. And then we will wait while he consults with his masters in Langley.’
‘It could take days, weeks even to get such an arrangement set up.’
‘I fear time is not on our side. If the Americans want their flow of Kazunda’s oil to continue they must be seen to be supporting Nzinga. Mendesa has fled and Loma is dead. The king is dead, long live the queen.’
‘You’ve masterminded this from the beginning haven’t you.’
‘No, not quite. Acquiring the materiel in Trabzon, chartering the Dalmatia Star: that was all arranged by Mendesa working directly with the GRU. The Russians didn’t want their own equipment and people showing up here so having Mendesa as their proxy suited them nicely. But yes, above all that I was preparing Nzinga for her accession. That is all that matters now.’
‘So you had the guard on side from the start.’
‘It was a cornerstone of the plan. It wouldn’t have worked without them.’
‘Did Nzinga know?’
‘No. I had to keep the details from her for security reasons. I just promised I would make it possible – for the good of the nation. She trusted me. In Angola I saw how civil war between different factions tore the country apart – the Cubans and South Africans all fighting as proxies for the Russians and Americans. Here we will avoid that. And Nzinga is the only person who can unite Kazunda now.’
‘How did you get the Russians to trust you, and make them believe you were supporting them and Mendesa against Loma while your real agenda was to crush them both in favour of Nzinga? Seems like a risky strategy – weren’t you afraid they’d sniff out your true motive? And what do you think they’ll do now they know you double-crossed them?’
‘The Russians were happy to trust me. They knew I’d fallen out with the CIA years ago and they bought into my support for a coup in Kazunda. I introduced them to Mendesa and the pieces fell into place after that.’
‘So Mendesa was a stooge, a useful idiot?’
‘Not exactly. The Russians saw him as their stalking horse – a means to an end. But Mendesa himself? He was ambitious and hungry for power - for his own sake. And I am sure he still is.’
/> ‘Where is he now?’ I asked again.
‘He was flown out of the country this morning.’
‘Did you know in advance he was escaping?’
‘If I had known I would have stopped him. But I wasn’t surprised. He’s a coward. Once his mercenaries were finished and he saw the presidential guard was siding with Nzinga, he gave up and fled.’
‘Where was he taken?’
‘Pointe-Noire.’
‘And from there?’
‘I don’t know. Back to Zurich perhaps. Or into hiding somewhere. He has many enemies now.’
‘Did Mendesa order the murder of Captain Babic on the Dalmatia Star?
‘I suppose he would have condoned it. He was working with the GRU and their man Horvat. They needed to remove anyone who presented a threat, and the captain was one of those threats. He didn’t like what was happening on his ship.’
‘So Horvat and Mendesa were working together?’
‘Yes, they worked together but that is not to say they were allies, let alone friends. Horvat was the GRU’s man there to protect Russia’s interests.’
‘I see. And where is Nzinga now?’
‘She is safe. The guard freed her and took her to São Gabriel island off the coast from here. Don’t worry, the guard are loyal to her. They are there protecting her. They trust her to do what is right for the country.’
‘I don’t understand why you want to go to the US,’ I said. ‘Surely with your Marxist ideology you’d rather see this thing through; work with Nzinga to make it happen?’
‘I’m getting old. I want to experience some of the good life before my time is up. And I’m tired of this country, and of Africa. My satisfaction will be seeing her installed. I know her well. She will succeed and she doesn’t need me now.’
When Grant and I had discussed it back on the river, we were pretty close to the truth: Cordeiro was a clever sonofabitch alright. He’d manipulated events to suit his own ends, though I doubted whether he’d still be on Grant’s Christmas card list, or his masters’ in the GRU, after all this. But although I’d never met Nzinga, from everything I’d heard about her she would make an infinitely better leader than either Loma or Mendesa, so I couldn’t disagree with Cordeiro’s vision. His methods were unorthodox but in the end his aims were altruistic.
He went over to a table and picked up a satellite phone. ‘Here, call Douglas.’
I called the last number Grant had given me. It went to voicemail and I left a message, giving him the number to call me back on. ‘He was going to the Portuguese Embassy,’ I said. ‘Can you get hold of the ambassador?’
‘Let’s try,’ he said. I handed back the phone and after a while he got through. It was three-thirty in the morning. We’d been talking for hours yet I had no idea what was going on now in the city. He spoke rapidly in Portuguese then said, ‘Douglas is there. They will wake him.’
There was another delay until they got hold of him. ‘Grant, I have your colleague with me.’ He handed me the phone and I sketched out Cordeiro’s conditions.
‘Gus, we’re calling up a squad of Portuguese commandos to storm the palace. How do you want to play this?’
‘Too late, Grant. Stand them down. Things have been moving fast here.’ And I described the events that had unfolded in the last few hours as Cordeiro had related them. ‘If you’re in favour of his proposal we can work this out. Mendesa’s gone now. And I imagine this intel that Cordeiro’s offering on Russia’s Africa strategy could be of value. It’s your call. Have the commandos on standby off the coast and get Langley, or whoever you talk to, on the phone if that’s what you want to do, not forgetting his part in blowing your rig to kingdom come of course,’ I added, putting the phone onto speaker. ‘The situation is still fluid here but Cordeiro’s saying he has the presidential guard on side and Nzinga waiting in the wings. The guard will follow Nzinga, Grant. And the army will follow the guard,’ Cordeiro interrupted stepping over to be closer to the phone. ‘Mendesa is gone and has no local support here now.’
‘Yeah, got it. What kind of intel are we talking about, Carlos? I need to feed my people some red meat.’
‘In order for the coup to succeed, the GRU gave me access to certain information. The Russians are already training the special forces of many African nations, and equipping their armies. This you know. But I have full details of these programmes and confidential papers describing the Kremlin’s future agenda: how they will empower certain governments and disrupt others. Their aspirations here in Kazunda are an example, but they have failed. The true extent of these Russian security deals is difficult for you to assess because you don’t have access. They told me you don’t and they seemed very certain about it. But to give you an idea, in at least one case, an African country’s civilian intelligence agency was forced to spy on its own military counterpart just to figure out what kind of surveillance system they had bought from the Russians for a hundred million dollars, and how much of that found its way back to the generals. That’s the kind of specifics I’m offering. There is much more but first I need your assurances. And Grant,’ he added. ‘I swear blind I didn’t know they’d blow that rig up.’
‘So what did you think they’d do? Invite everyone round for tea? Anyhow, leave it with me. Give me twelve hours to set something up. I’ll get back to you.’ He hung up.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If you’re in control you need to freeze the situation until this evening. You’ve got Nzinga safe; the police, the army, the presidential guard all on side. You can hold things as they are?’
‘I will reassure them. They will wait.’
‘And what will you do if Langley can’t meet your conditions?’
‘They will.’
Chapter 22
Cordeiro had taken up residence in Loma’s palace apartments and showed me where I could shower and change into the clothes I’d stuffed into my waterproof bag. I rejoined him for the first reasonable meal I’d had in days: scrambled eggs, fruit juice and coffee. It went some way to fighting off the exhaustion that was washing over me in waves.
As we’d talked I’d found myself conflicted over my opinion of the man. I couldn’t ignore his role in the destruction of the Sea-En Resolution. Did I believe him when he said he had not anticipated that his actions could have such devastating consequences? I wasn’t sure. But there was something I had to respect about Carlos Cordeiro. He was a maverick, an anti-Establishment rebel, but above all he saw what needed to be done, what he believed in. He had principles and acted upon them rather than just tolerating the iniquities of those around him.
Breakfast was interrupted by the phone. It was Grant.
‘Listen to this,’ he said, speaking to me. ‘There’s no love lost between Carlos Cordeiro and the CIA, but hey, surprise surprise, they’ve agreed to his demands. They say it’s on the basis of what he’s doing in bringing peace and democracy to Kazunda. That’s horseshit. What they really want is to debrief him. They need more intel on Russia’s plans in Africa. So he’d better produce the goods or the debriefing could last forever – you know what I mean? He could be detained for months or years. And they’ll always have the option of calling him up in future. So there are strings attached, but if he’s as good as his word, for now he can look forward to life as a sleeper in sunny San Francisco. I’ll let you tell him the good news.’
‘What about his role in the attack on the floatel?’
‘They’re pragmatic. He’s got what they want. That intel he’s offering is pure gold.’
‘He may not believe it. I’m not sure I do.’
‘He’ll believe it because he wants to believe it.’
I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I was back in the hall where Loma had met his end. ‘You know what, Grant? I’m not in any way defending what he did, but Cordeiro’s an idealist. Maybe he wasn’t back in Laos or Angola but he’s seen the light now. He wants to have played his part in creating a stable nation out of chaos. I think he’s seeking re
demption.’ I didn’t need to remind Grant of his own culpability in the affair either.
‘You’re giving him a lot of credit, buddy. He knows as well as you and I that this is all just a replay of the Cold War in Southeast Asia and Angola. It was never about ideology then and it isn’t now. It’s about power through control and influence: control of Africa’s minerals and its oil and gas: by Russia, by China, by us. Tell him he’s got his wish, and he can trust us against his GRU pals any day.’
I went back in and conveyed the news to Cordeiro. ‘I will need a visa, new documents,’ was his first reaction.
‘You’ll get all that. They’ll put the process in motion. First though, Nzinga. I must talk to her.’
‘You shall. It is time for her to return.’ He stood, and headed for the door.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘We’ll go to this island together.’
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘I don’t know you.’
He laughed. ‘Very well, we shall go together. I hope you don’t suffer from seasickness. It’s rough out there.’
***
Dawn was breaking as Cordeiro manoeuvred the boat out of the hidden harbour and into open waters. As we headed into the Atlantic swell he moved the revs up until we were cutting through the waves at twenty knots, with shipped water crashing across the deck. We turned north in the direction of São Gabriel and the line of Sea-En rigs came into view, spaced out across the ocean, their cranes, flare stacks and towers lit up against the sky. We passed the grotesque, blackened wreck of the Sea-En Resolution protruding from the water like the work of some mad sculptor. Sooner or later there’d be a massive clean-up operation to remove it.
‘How long have you worked for Grant Douglas?’ he asked without turning his attention from the sea ahead.
‘I don’t really work for him – I’m a freelance insurance investigator,’ I said. ‘I have my own claims handling business in Greece. Much of my work is done on behalf of the Caledonian Marine Mutual. Grant is CEO there.’