'Yes, sir.'
'Find out the identity of the man. Then call me.'
'Do you want him killed?'
'If it's not asking too much,' Ngune retorted facetiously.
'I'll see to it, sir.'
'I hope so, Thomas. If I have to send someone else to Habane it could seriously jeopardize your chances of becoming the new head of the Security Police once we're in power. Remember that.'
'Yes, sir, I realize…" Massenga trailed off when he heard the dialling tone. He replaced the receiver then crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a Scotch. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
Sabrina was studying a map of the city when there was a knock at the door. She picked up the Beretta off the bedside table and peered through the spyhole. It was the man with the wire-framed glasses. She opened the door.
'Inside,' she said, beckoning him into the room.
He entered and she closed the door behind him. His smile faltered when he saw the Beretta in her hand. 'You won't need that, I assure you.'
'Not if you're really Joseph Moredi. But I don't know that yet, do I?'
He swallowed nervously and nodded hesitantly. 'Did you speak to Jamel Mobuto?'
'Not personally. I had one of my colleagues do it.'
'And did he set a question for me?'
She nodded.
'Could we get on with it?' he said anxiously, his eyes darting towards the gun aimed at his stomach.
'While you were at Oxford you once went to a rugby match together. Who was playing?'
'I've never been to a rugby match in my life. We once went to a football match together. Arsenal was the home team. Who were they playing?' he mused thoughtfully. 'They weren't from London. Black and white striped shirts.' He suddenly snapped his fingers together and pointed at Sabrina. 'Newcastle.'
Sabrina lowered the gun. 'I'm glad you got that right.'
'Not half as glad as I am,' Moredi said, indicating the gun in her hand. 'But why did you say rugby…' he trailed off with a knowing smile. 'Of course, a trick question.'
'An added precaution,' she replied then indicated the armchair in the corner of the room. 'Please, won't you sit down, Mr Moredi.'
'Thank you,' he said and eased himself into the armchair.
She replaced the Beretta on the table and sat on the bed. 'One thing still puzzles me. How did Massenga know I would be on that plane?'
'He was obviously tipped off, but by whom I couldn't say.' He shrugged. 'Was I right about your investigation being linked to the Mobuto brothers?'
'Yes, but I can't go into details.'
'I appreciate that.' Moredi suddenly sat forward, his arms resting on his knees. 'Jamel and Remy Mobuto have been friends of mine for over twenty years. And now they're both in danger. I'll do anything I can to help them, anything.'
'You said earlier that Massenga tried to kill me to prevent me from stumbling on the truth. What exactly did you mean by "the truth"?'
'I only know part of it. Remy's the only one who knows the whole truth. And he was kidnapped earlier today.'
'By Massenga?'
'By him, or on his orders. Massenga's been Ngune's right-hand man for the past five years. An anonymous caller telephoned me at the newspaper to say that the rebels were holding Remy.'
'Do you have any idea where he's being held?'
'I have it on good authority from one of my more reliable sources that he's being held at the Branco prison in Kondese, in the south of the country, a couple of hours drive from here.'
'How much did Remy Mobuto tell you before he was kidnapped?'
'Only that he was onto a story about a plot to assassinate his brother. It was something big, or so he claimed. It involved Ngune, Massenga and a third man, the man who would pull the trigger.'
'Did he mention a name?'
Moredi shook his head. 'He knew who it was but he wouldn't tell me. Not until he had the proof he needed to publish the story. Remy was like that. He always played his cards close to his chest. He went to a rendezvous with an informant who had that proof. That's when he was abducted.'
'And the informant?'
'Blood was found in his car but there was no sign of him.'
'So Remy is the key to this whole affair?'
Moredi nodded. 'Not only does he know who will pull the trigger, he also knows where and when the assassination will take place.'
'Does the name Bernard mean anything to you?' Sabrina asked.
Moredi bit his lip thoughtfully then shook his head. 'No, I can't say it does. Who is he?'
'That I can't tell you,' Sabrina replied apologetically. 'At least not for the moment.'
'I understand.'
Sabrina bit her lip thoughtfully. 'Why don't the army check out this Branco prison to see if Remy Mobuto is being held there?'
'Kondese is rebel country. The army won't go there. They're waiting up here, in the north, for Ngune to make his first move.'
'So it's a stalemate.'
'At the moment, yes. But Jamel intends to get his generals round the table for talks when he gets back from America. He wants to crush Ngune and his rebels before they set out for Habane. That's certainly one of the reasons why Ngune wants Jamel dead. He believes it would throw the army into disarray.'
'Would it?'
'Yes,' Moredi replied bluntly. 'But then the army's already in disarray. Many of the soldiers had friends and relatives in the Security Police, Now they're on opposite sides. But will the army try and stop Ngune's men if they do march on Habane? Or will they join them? Nobody really knows the answer. That's what makes it all so uncertain. Zimbala's a powder keg waiting to explode. All it needs is a single spark to set it off. That's why Jamel wants to stop Ngune in his tracks. If Ngune does march on Habane, then the sparks will fly. And whoever does win will have inherited a country bathed in the blood of innocent people. Jamel doesn't want that. He saw enough bloodshed under his father's regime.'
'I still don't see why Massenga tried to kill me this afternoon. If Remy Mobuto is the only person who knows what's going on, then how can I be a threat to them? They've got him. They're holding the aces, not me.'
'They obviously think you're out here to find him. That could ruin everything for them.'
Sabrina propped a pillow against the wall and leaned back against it. 'How long have you had Massenga under surveillance?'
'How did you know that?'
'Why else would you have been at the hotel when he tried to kill me?'
Moredi smiled. 'You're very astute. I don't know how long he's been in Habane. An informant contacted us two days ago and said he'd seen Massenga. We checked out the story and I've had a team of reporters watching him ever since. He won't know he's being watched.'
'Why don't you tell the police about Massenga?'
'Two reasons. Firstly, if they did arrest Massenga it could put Remy's life in danger. And secondly, there are policemen who are sympathetic to Ngune. They would tip him off and Massenga would be pulled out. This way he could still lead us to Remy. I know it's a long shot but we've got to take it.' Moredi paused to wet his lips. 'I've been watching him ever since he went to the airport this afternoon. Actually, it's the second time he's been to the airport in the last two days. He met someone there yesterday off a flight from Beirut. Around noon. They spoke for about an hour. Then the man flew out again. I couldn't find out his name. Only that he'd taken a Pan Am flight to New York via Morocco and Bermuda.'
'Describe him.'
'He was pretty distinctive: tall, good-looking, black hair, black moustache.'
'And a scar,' Sabrina added, tracing her finger down her left cheek.
'Yes,' Moredi replied in surprise. 'How did you know?"
Sabrina swung her legs off the bed. 'I've got to make an urgent phone call. In private.'
'Oh, of course,' Moredi said, getting to his feet. Til go down to the bar and get a beer. Would you like anything?'
'A Diet Cola.'
Moredi left t
he room.
Sabrina rang Kolchinsky at UN AGO headquarters and briefed him on what Moredi had told her.
'So Bernard met Massenga in Habane,' Kolchinsky said once she had finished. 'I don't see anything suspicious in that. He is supposed to be working with them, remember? It's part of his cover.'
'That may be, Sergei, but it seems a bit of a coincidence that Massenga tries to kill me the day after he meets Bernard.'
'You're reading too much into this meeting, Sabrina.'
'It would certainly explain the attempt on my life this afternoon. How else would Massenga know I was due in Zimbala?'
'It's a possibility, I agree,' Kolchinsky conceded.
'And what about this third man that Remy Mobuto mentioned? It has to be Bernard.'
'Why does it have to be Bernard?' Kolchinsky retorted. 'What do the CIA have to gain by assassinating Mobuto?'
'Who says it's on CIA orders? He could have made a private deal with Ngune to kill Mobuto.'
'And double-cross Bailey? He wouldn't live long enough to spend the money.'
> 'Put yourself in Bernard's shoes, Sergei. Bailey's sure to have promised him a new identity once this is all over. But Bernard's no fool. He knows the CIA will never use him again. So what's he got to lose by contracting himself to Ngune?'
There was a pause while Kolchinsky pondered her words. 'So you're suggesting that Bailey would have him killed rather than give him a new identity?'
'He knows too much.'
'But you don't have a shred of evidence to back up this elaborate theory of yours.'
'Remy Mobuto has the evidence. I'm convinced of that now.'
'Remy Mobuto has been kidnapped.'
'And he's being held in Kondese.'
'Don't even think of it, Sabrina!' Kolchinsky snapped sharply. 'You've been assigned to find Michael, not to poke about in rebel country looking for Remy Mobuto. Stay away from Kondese. That's an order!'
'Yes, Sergei,' Sabrina muttered through clenched teeth.
'I think it would be better if you caught the next available flight back to the States. After all, if Moredi's right, then Bernard's here now. And Michael's sure to be close behind him.'
Til make the necessary arrangements.'
There was a knock at the door.
'I've got to go, Sergei. Moredi's back. I'll call you if there are any new developments before I leave. Otherwise I'll see you back in New York.'
'Fine. Goodbye, Sabrina.'
She replaced the receiver then crossed to the door and peered through the spyhole. It was Moredi. She opened the door.
'Finished?' he asked.
'Sure,' she replied and stood aside to let him in.
He handed her a can of Diet Cola. 'What happens now?'
'Nothing,' she replied, opening the can. 'At least not until I've heard from my partner.'
'Where is your partner?'
'I haven't the faintest idea,' she replied then moved to the window and looked down into the street. 'But he'd better contact me soon. We're running out of time. Fast.'
'Not another roadblock,' Graham said tersely, seeing the army patrol ahead of them. 'This is the third one in as many miles.'
'It is the airport road. They're obviously taking no chances,' Laidlaw replied, bringing the white Toyota to a halt behind a rusty blue Fiat.
Graham looked out of the passenger window and counted eight vehicles ahead of them. He threw up his arms in despair. All they could do was wait.
It had been Laidlaw's idea that they both dress as priests. He had borrowed the costumes from a friend, who ran a small theatre in West Beirut, on the pretext of needing them for a fancy-dress party the following evening. They had changed into the costumes before leaving for the airport that morning where they had caught a direct flight to N'djamena, the capital of Chad. Laidlaw had hired the car at N'djamena Airport and they had driven the eighty miles to the Chadian-Zimbalan border where the.Zimbalan authorities had issued them with ten-day visas, like Sabrina. They were stopped regularly by army patrols on the main highway into Habane but each time they were waved on when the soldiers realized they were priests. And, judging by the size of the military presence around them, they assumed that this would be the last roadblock before the airport.
The Fiat was waved through and Laidlaw drove up to the boom gate and cut the engine. An armed soldier approached the car and peered through the driver's window.
'Passport,' the soldier said in a thick English accent.
'I speak your language,' Laidlaw replied in Swahili and handed the passports to him.
The soldier was surprised to hear his native tongue and smiled at Laidlaw before opening the passports to compare the photographs with the two men in the car. 'What is your business at the airport, Father?'
'We are meeting a friend,' Laidlaw replied then glanced at his watch. 'His flight is due in twenty-five minutes.'
The soldier closed the passports and gave them back to Laidlaw. 'Thank you, Father.'
'Thank you, my son,' Laidlaw replied.
The soldier was about to give the order to raise the boom gate when he saw his commanding officer standing at the entrance of the small Nissen hut at the side of the road. He immediately snapped to attention.
The colonel, a dark-skinned African in his early forties, told him to stand easy then crossed to the Toyota and looked through the passenger window. 'Your passports,' he said to Graham.
'Father Grant doesn't speak Swahili,' Laidlaw said with an apologetic smile. 'He's only been out here a few days.'
The colonel took the passports from Laidlaw and leafed through them slowly. 'Get out of the car, both of you,' he said, suddenly switching to English.
'What's the problem?' Laidlaw asked suspiciously.
'Just get out of the car,' the colonel repeated.
They did as they were told and the colonel walked round to the driver's side and took the keys from the ignition. He beckoned two soldiers towards him and gave the keys to one of them. He spoke to them quickly in Swahili and they immediately hurried round to the back of the car.
'And what do you hope to find in the boot?' Laidlaw said, sticking to English.
The colonel ignored the question and watched as the boot was opened. One of the soldiers immediately called out to him. He walked to the back of the car then looked round at Laidlaw and beckoned him forward with his finger. Laidlaw's eyes widened in horror when he looked inside the boot. Two AK-47 assault rifles and a hand grenade lay beside their holdalls.
'We know nothing about these,' Laidlaw said, looking to Graham for support.
'They weren't here when we hired the car,' Graham snapped.
'You're both under arrest,' the colonel said then gestured towards a jeep parked at the side of the road. 'Get in.'
'This is outrageous,' Graham said. 'We demand to see your superior.'
'I am the most senior officer on duty,' the colonel retorted then barked out an order and five soldiers immediately unshouldered their Mi6s and aimed them at Laidlaw and Graham. 'You have a choice. Either you get in quietly or you'll be handcuffed and thrown in. It's your choice.'
Laidlaw looked helplessly at Graham. Graham bit back his anger and clambered into the back of the jeep. Laidlaw glanced at the soldiers then reluctantly followed him. Their holdalls were tossed into the back after them. The two soldiers who had discovered the weapons got into the back seat and covered Graham and Laidlaw with their Mi6s. The Colonel ordered a soldier to move the Toyota to the side of the road then climbed into the front of the jeep and told the driver to go to the airport. The boom gate was raised and the jeep sped down the highway towards the airport terminal. The Colonel pointed to a slip road and the driver nodded before indicating and turning the jeep off the main road.
'This isn't the way to the airport!' Laidlaw shouted above the noise of the jeep's engine.
The colonel glanced at him but said nothing.
'Where on earth are we going?' Graham snarled but an Mi6 was pressed into his stoma
ch when he leaned towards the nearest soldier.
The driver slowed down as he approached a stationary white Isuzu van then swung off the road and pulled up behind it.
Graham's mind was racing. What was happening? Were they about to be executed and their bodies taken away in the back of the van? But why? And where had the weapons come from? Had they been planted by the soldiers? None of it made any sense. He was about to try and signal Laidlaw for them to tackle the two armed guards when the van's passenger door swung open and Sabrina got out. Moredi climbed out of the driver's side and they walked to the jeep.
'Is nothing sacred any more?" Sabrina said with a smile as she eyed Graham's outfit.
Graham jumped nimbly from the back of the jeep. 'What the hell's going on?'
Til tell you, later,' she replied then gestured to Moredi and introduced him to Graham and Laidlaw.
Moredi shook hands with them then spoke briefly to the colonel who immediately ordered his troops into the jeep and the driver did a U-turn and headed back towards the highway.
Moredi led the colonel over to the others. 'This is Colonel David Tambese, one of the few soldiers I would trust with my life. He was at Sandhurst when Jamel Mobuto and I were at Oxford together.'
'No hard feelings, I hope,' Tambese said, shaking Graham's hand.
'Not if you tell me what's going on,' Graham retorted.
Tambese glanced at Sabrina who nodded. 'When Joseph told me you were going to pick up a message from the information desk at the airport, he asked me to check the area for any signs of Ngune's men. There are at least four of them in the terminal. We had to stop you before you got there.'
'Why didn't you just arrest them?' Laidlaw asked.
Tambese shot a glance at Laidlaw. 'It's almost certainly a suicide squad. Any attempt to approach them would result in a bloodbath. They would open fire indiscriminately. And who knows how many innocent people would have been killed? It's a new form of terror Ngune has introduced in the last couple of days. We've already had to deal with two suicide squads in the city centre. Fourteen innocent people have been killed in those two incidents alone. We'll wait for them to leave then ambush the car. It's the only way to deal with them.'
'How do you know they were waiting for me?'
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