The Devil's Kingdom

by Scott Mariani

  One thing he needn’t have worried about was the excess payload on board the little Cessna. Two lean, fit men and half a dozen skinny African kids, even with their weapons and ammunition, probably added up to less than the weight of four average-sized affluent Americans. Or one scheming politician and three large bodyguards. The sky was clear and bright, they had more than enough fuel for the short trip, and thanks to Jeff’s coordinates the aircraft’s GPS was guiding them straight to their destination.

  For Mani and the other kids, whose names were Juma, Akia, Fabrice, Sefu and Steve, it was a moment of wonderment being up in the air. The closest any of them had ever come to an aircraft in their lives was to watch them buzzing high overhead, as mysterious and alien to their world as a spacecraft. All six of them pressed against the windows in the back of the cockpit, jostling each other for the best view of the ground below and grinning with excitement as if the terror and confusion of battle were just a faded memory that they could effortlessly bounce back from. Even Mani seemed to have managed to forget, if only for a few short happy moments, what he’d been made to do during their induction training. In their own way, these kids were tougher and more resilient than most adults.

  Ben didn’t find it quite as easy to leave his troubles behind. He should have been grinning, knowing Jude was safe, but a voice inside his head kept telling him that more trouble, worse trouble, still lay ahead. Worrying made his face hurt. He worked out his tension by abusing the Cessna’s throttle, often verging close to the never-exceed speed of 163 knots, which equated to 188 miles per hour, at which velocity the wings began to shake and the whole plane began to feel as if it was starting to come apart at the seams.

  ‘Steady,’ Jeff muttered from time to time, one anxious eye hovering over the dials. Ben kept his gaze fixed on the horizon and said nothing.

  They flew over hills and vast sweeping valleys of unbroken green jungle canopy. Uplands and mountain ranges loomed in the distance, shrouded in mist. Unmade roads looked like little brown threads through the green, and the great river receding away to the north was a coiling blue python dotted here and there with small fishing boats that drifted lazily on the still water. The miniature figures of people on the higher ground sometimes looked up as the plane passed over, shielding their eyes from the sun. Mani and the other kids waved, but nobody waved back. Ben wondered if the people recognised the plane as an official aircraft. As long as nobody got it into their heads to go fetch an RPG and try to shoot them down, they might actually make it.

  Jeff seemed far away, as though he was working over a question in his mind. ‘I hate to ask,’ he said after a long silence. ‘But …’

  Ben looked at him. ‘What?’

  ‘If that wasn’t Jude’s hand Khosa showed you, then who was the poor sod they lopped it off of?’

  What could you say to that?

  Thirty-eight minutes after setting off from Luhaka, the GPS was telling them they were close. Ben dropped a thousand feet and spotted the break in the treetops. Soon after that he saw the city, like a bizarre model sprouting up from the middle of the jungle within its fenced-off no-man’s land. Beyond the city was the hydro plant spanning the river, and beyond that again lay the desolate wasteland of the industrial zone. From the ground it was screened by jungle. Exposed from above, it looked like a scar.

  For Jeff, who had never ventured outside the limits of Khosa’s city until today, this was all new. ‘What are they doing down there?’

  ‘Mining,’ Ben said. ‘Gold, diamonds, copper, zinc, who knows. But whatever it is, it’s payrolled by someone with a lot bigger reach than Khosa.’

  ‘That would explain a lot,’ Jeff agreed. ‘Africa, land of opportunity.’

  ‘For everyone except the Africans,’ Ben said.

  The unfinished airport lay on the far western edge of the city, but Ben didn’t intend to touch down there. They came in low and slow, skimming the perimeter fence, their shadow passing over the stripped ground between it and the city like a giant bird’s. The construction crews were still hard at work down there. A few of the workers looked up as the Cessna buzzed over.

  The street layout was becoming familiar to Ben, and he steered for the centre, watching for landmarks like the barracks building and the replica Dorchester. ‘There,’ he said to Jeff, pointing out a broad, straight boulevard just a block from the hotel that would serve as a decent landing strip. They did a couple of passes before Ben came in for the final approach, and spotted the figures on the ground running towards the sound of the incoming aircraft. There was Tuesday, waving his arms and grinning a grin that would have been visible from space. With him was a large African man Ben didn’t immediately recognise, but thought looked familiar. He was trying to place him when he spotted another figure he had no trouble recognising at all.

  At the sight of Jude, Ben’s smile busted the scabs on his lips. He hardly noticed the pain.

  The Cessna landed smoothly in the middle of the wide boulevard and taxied to a halt. Ben shut down the engine, flung open the hatch and jumped down. Mani and the rest of the kids were peering cautiously from the cockpit windows, obviously scared to come out. Ben didn’t want to press them.

  ‘Ben!’ Jude ran towards him. His clothes were grimy and Ben thought he looked thin and a little pale; but he knew he must hardly look the picture of health himself. Smiling even more widely, Ben spread his arms to greet him. Following more slowly behind Jude was a young Oriental woman, about his age or maybe just a little older. She held back and watched with a half-smile as they embraced. Jeff and Tuesday met in the middle of the street and clapped shoulders, the way men do when they don’t want to hug each other.

  Ben wasn’t holding back his emotions. He squeezed Jude tight enough to crack ribs, then stepped back and stared at him with moist eyes. ‘You’re okay,’ he kept saying. ‘Thank God you’re okay.’ He grasped both of Jude’s hands and held them out to stare at them, as if he still couldn’t quite believe that both of them were still attached. Part of him had never been so happy, but another part had never been so angry that Khosa could have deceived him so cruelly.

  ‘What happened to you?’ Jude said, running his eyes over Ben’s battered face.

  ‘This? It’s nothing. Just a couple of scratches.’

  The young Oriental woman stepped up, still giving that half-smile. ‘If that’s a couple of scratches, I’d hate to see the other guy.’

  ‘The other guy’s dead,’ Ben said.

  ‘Figures.’ The half-smile opened up and Ben noticed how attractive she was. He wondered what she was doing there, and how she and Jude had hooked up.

  ‘This is Rae,’ Jude said. ‘She’s from Chicago.’

  ‘Rae Lee,’ she said. ‘Photographer, journalist. And hostage, until recently. Jude and I were captives together.’

  ‘Jude got her out,’ Tuesday said, wrapping an arm around Jude’s shoulders. ‘Can you believe they were just a mile or two away, the whole time? Khosa had them in some kind of bloody hostage camp.’

  Ben couldn’t believe it. ‘If only we’d known.’

  ‘That’s what I said too,’ Tuesday laughed.

  ‘So you must be the war hero I’ve been hearing so much about,’ Rae said. ‘Ben, right? I can see the family resemblance. Kind of, under all those bruises. That’s got to hurt.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Jude said anxiously. ‘You ought to see a doctor.’

  ‘When I’m shot to pieces and dying,’ Ben said, ‘then I’ll see a doctor.’

  ‘Definitely the war hero,’ Rae said, rolling her eyes.

  Ben realised he was still gripping Jude’s hands as though they might fly away if he released them. Suddenly self-conscious, he let them go, but he could hardly stop looking at them. Jude was looking at them too, and shaking his head as he imagined what it must be like to have one chopped off with a heavy, sharp blade.

  ‘It was Craig’s hand Khosa showed you,’ Jude explained to Ben, answering the question nobody wanted to ask. ‘Craig Munro.
Rae’s friend. They were keeping him prisoner, too. Khosa had his right hand hacked off so he could pretend it was mine.’

  Rae was looking down at the ground, the smile suddenly gone. Ben said to her, ‘Your friend, is he—?’

  ‘They killed him,’ she said. ‘Shot him dead right in front of us.’

  ‘I’m very sorry.’

  ‘He didn’t suffer for very long. I guess that’s something to be thankful for.’

  ‘When this is over,’ Ben told her, ‘the people who did all of this are going to pay.’

  ‘Quite a few of them already have,’ Jeff put in.

  ‘Not enough,’ Ben said.

  The African man standing behind Tuesday said, ‘Khosa must pay.’ It was the first time he’d spoken, and Ben looked at him. Then looked at him. He’d been so consumed with relief at seeing Jude again that he hadn’t realised that he knew this man.

  ‘Sizwe! What are you—?’

  ‘He’s come to help us,’ Tuesday said. ‘For his family.’

  Ben felt a strange chill as he stood face to face with the man to whom he’d promised his wife and children would be safe, only to be forced to watch them all be slaughtered by Khosa’s men moments later.

  Sizwe must have read the look in Ben’s eyes. He took a step closer and touched Ben’s arm. ‘I do not blame you. You tried to help. Nobody can change what Khosa does. The only way is to kill him. That is why I am here. If you know where he is, take me to him.’

  ‘No need for that,’ Jeff said. ‘He’s on his way.’

  Jude’s eyeballs bugged out from their sockets. ‘Khosa’s coming back?’

  ‘Better believe it,’ Jeff said. ‘And he’s not in the best of moods. Someone nicked the jam out of his doughnut, that’s for sure.’

  Jude and Rae exchanged nervous glances. ‘I told you, you shouldn’t have taken it,’ she said to him. ‘I warned you how it would be when he found out it was gone.’

  Jude heaved a sigh. He suddenly looked as if a heavy weight was hanging from his neck.

  ‘Taken what?’ Ben asked, his heart sinking as he began to fear the worst. Rae wasn’t talking about jam doughnuts. Ben said, ‘Jude? What did you take?’

  Jude gave another deep sigh, then muttered, ‘Oh, what the hell,’ and dug his hand in his pocket.

  It was only then that Ben noticed the telltale bulge, as if Jude was carrying a tennis ball around in his jeans. Ben’s heart sank the rest of the way.

  Chapter 48

  Jude yanked out the leather pouch and rolled the diamond onto the flat of his palm. ‘There,’ he said, looking at the glittering stone as if it was a turd.

  ‘I’m not even going to ask how you got that,’ Ben said. He’d have been happier if Jude had produced a stick of dynamite from his pocket with the fuse lit. ‘On second thoughts, I am going to ask.’

  ‘It wasn’t hard. Lifted it when he was sleeping.’

  ‘How the hell did you get that close to him?’

  ‘He and Masango knocked themselves out drinking.’

  ‘And other things,’ Rae added with a shiver.

  Jeff eyed the diamond for a second, then looked up at Jude from under a furrowed brow. ‘Wow, clever move, son. No wonder your best friend’s racing back here faster than shit through a tin horn. You didn’t reckon on him missing his pretty little bauble at any point? Thought maybe he wouldn’t mind you borrowing it?’

  ‘What was I supposed to do, let him keep it?’ Jude protested. ‘You’ve no idea what kind of power this has given him. He’s a total maniac. He worships the devil.’

  Ben looked at him. ‘Now you’re talking like a vicar’s son.’

  ‘I’m being literal,’ Jude said, vigorously shaking his head. ‘Khosa and Masango are actual Satanists. We saw them at it. Chanting in Latin. Wearing black robes. Drinking blood. I’m talking human sacrifice. The whole works.’

  ‘Jude’s telling the truth,’ Rae said. ‘We witnessed it together. It was just … horrible. They killed a woman and ate her heart.’ She shook her head dismally. ‘You hear of these things happening. I don’t think I ever really believed it.’

  Tuesday looked ready to throw up in horror. Jeff cocked an eyebrow at the mention of Satanism, but Ben gave no response. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if Khosa was a Jehovah’s Witness, a Quaker or prayed to the great god Xenu from outer space. He would still be Khosa. A man’s actions, not his beliefs, determined who and what he was. Bad was simply bad, whatever ism anyone tagged it with.

  ‘Believe me, we have a pretty good idea what kind of power he has,’ Ben told Jude. ‘I also know very well what he’s capable of doing to get that thing back. You’re crazy, you know that?’

  ‘Like father, like son,’ Tuesday said, trying to inject some levity if only for his own sake. It didn’t work. Father and son both glared at him, and he quickly shut up.

  ‘You’d best pray Khosa doesn’t know it was you who pinched it,’ Jeff warned Jude, pointing at his heart. ‘Or he’ll gobble that up for afters.’

  ‘Of course he knows,’ Ben said. ‘Who took it off him before, on the ship? Who’s just escaped? You don’t think Khosa can put two and two together? He may be insane and evil and a lot of things besides, but one thing he’s not is an idiot.’

  ‘All right, fine. Maybe he does know,’ Jude said defiantly. ‘But that can’t be helped. I did what I thought was the right thing at the time, and I still do. He can’t be allowed to have it.’

  ‘Suit yourself. Then what are you going to do with it?’

  ‘You take it,’ Jude said, pushing it towards Ben.

  ‘I’ve told you before, I don’t want it,’ Ben said.

  ‘But you let me pass it on to you the other time.’

  ‘Yeah, and I should have thrown it in the sea, like I wanted to.’

  ‘Whose is it anyway?’ Rae asked. It was the first time she’d been able to get a good look at the diamond close up, and her eyes were fixed on it as though mesmerised.

  Jude shrugged. ‘The truth? We have no idea. A crook called Pender had it, but we don’t know where he stole it from.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

  ‘It’s trouble,’ Ben said. ‘Everywhere it goes, it leaves a trail of dead men.’

  ‘Sounds like someone else we know,’ Jeff said.

  Jude shook his head. ‘Not anymore. The authorities will know what to do with it. They have databases. If it’s been reported stolen, they’ll be able to return it to its proper owner.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jeff said with a snort. ‘Did you just say “the authorities”? In Africa? Are you kidding? That’s one way to make it disappear. And some bent police chief will have a nice retirement.’

  ‘Then tell me what to do with the bloody thing,’ Jude said irritably.

  ‘How about you wait here for Khosa to return, tell him nicely you’re very sorry there was a misunderstanding, and give it back to him? I’m sure he’ll be okay about it. Maybe he’ll just settle for a kidney.’

  Jude went pale. ‘That’s not funny, Jeff.’

  The children distracted them at that moment by emerging from the plane, obviously satisfied that it was safe to come out. They jumped down one by one and clustered shyly in a group, none of them quite confident enough yet to approach the group of adults. Sizwe’s hard expression melted when he saw them. Ben noticed the way he was staring at them, particularly little Juma, and knew he was reliving his grief over his dead son, Gatete, all over again. Seeing this big, powerful man struggling not to break down was hard to bear. Ben looked away.

  ‘Who are these kids?’ Rae asked, amazed.

  ‘Khosa’s boy soldiers,’ Ben said. ‘The ones we were able to get out of there, thanks to Jeff.’

  Tuesday had been frowning at the diamond, and now he was frowning even more at the children. ‘That’s great. Only … what are we going to do with them?’

  ‘Get them out of here, for one thing,’ Ben said. ‘Before Khosa rolls up with a thousand men.’

  Jeff
looked at his watch. ‘Which won’t be long, boys and girls. Sixty-three miles as the crow flies, call it eighty by road. It took a few hours in the other direction, but that was with stopping to RV with some reinforcements en route. Khosa’s already well on his way back here with about seventy truckloads of troops, and he’s not stopping to smell the roses. We’ve been in the air forty minutes and standing around talking for fifteen. Doesn’t leave an awful lot of time. So I’d advise that we start thinking about making a sharp exit.’

  ‘That’s where we might have a bit of a problem,’ Tuesday said. ‘I’ve just spent the last two hours over at what passes for an airport in this place, trying to get one of Khosa’s damned choppers up and running. Remember the piece of junk Puma that they used to pick us up from the ocean? It’s there, but it’s in pieces. Someone’s taken the rotors off, and it’s not exactly a one-man job to get them back on again, even if you had the right tools, which are missing. As is one of the rotor blades. I searched everywhere, no sign. Then you have the two even shittier Hueys that escorted us from Somalia. Some half-arsed mechanic’s been at one of them, too. Nothing but a dirty great hole where the engine used to be.’

  ‘What about the other one?’ Jeff asked, still clinging to hope.

  ‘It’s all there, as far as I could tell,’ Tuesday said. ‘But there’s some kind of fuckup in the electrics. Every time you go to fire it up, it goes snap, crackle, pop and smells like burning. Wiring must be shot to shit. Can’t say I’m surprised. These crocks have been flying since before I was born.’

  ‘More like since before us old guys were,’ Jeff grunted, waving a hand at himself and Ben. He shook his head grimly and pointed back at the Skyhawk. ‘Not a chance in hell of all of us getting into that. If we rip out the seats and chuck away anything non-essential, we might just about cram a couple extra bodies on board. But not twelve of us. No way we’d ever get off the ground.’