by PJ Skinner
Jim looked at Black in amazement. Did Black really believe that his motives were financial?
Black sucked on a cigarette, nonchalantly blowing smoke rings into the Mondongo air. He did not notice the effect his statement had on Jim. Oblivious to people’s feelings, Black was a man apart.
‘Okay,' said Black. ‘Enough fucking about. Let’s go back and deal with the train wreck. I have a meeting with General Fuego, the head of the armed services, this afternoon to discuss the fall-out.’
Jim shook himself to remove the taint of Black’s remark. He followed his boss back to the office.
***
That afternoon, Black arrived at the offices of General Fuego in central Mondongo just after the hottest part of the day. He was shown into the cool inner patio where abundant foliage caressed the walls and joists. A small fountain bubbled over into a dark pool at its base that contained small, coloured fish. Black sat on a wooden bench, blowing smoke from his cigarette up through the gap beneath the raised roof. The afternoon breeze blew the smoke back into the atrium, making swirls of smoke and dust, which caught the sun that was low enough on the horizon to sneak under the roof in places. Particles of dust danced in the sunlight, mesmerising Black.
He was miles away by the time the General came out to see him. The General stood in front of him for several seconds before Black realised that he was there.
‘Mr Black. I was expecting you.’
‘Ah, yes, General. Forgive me. I was day dreaming.’
‘Counting your money, no doubt.’
Black smiled sheepishly. That remark was not so far from the truth. He moved sideways on the bench, making room for the General to sit down. The two men sat alone for a while, contemplating the rays of sunlight hitting the atrium walls.
‘So,’ began the General. ‘I was very sorry to hear of the attack on Kardo. I offer you my commiserations on the losses suffered by your workforce.’
‘It is very kind of you to say so.’
‘I understand that it was a MARFO attack. My sources tell me that they were unable to open the safes.’
‘That’s correct, General.’
‘Do you have any information on the captives?’
‘Yes sir. I believe that twelve men and one woman were captured.’
The General turned to face Black and took a deep breath before asking, ‘A woman? Was she a local?’
‘No, sir. She's a geologist, one of the new members of staff, Sam Harris.’
The General turned away and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. He sat very still for a minute, contemplating his ultra-shiny shoes.
Black waited for a comment, but since none was forthcoming, he decided that protocol would allow him to ask a question.
‘Do you have any news on the whereabouts of the group?’
The General looked up and gazed at Black.
‘We have a pretty clear idea where they are headed. The main MARFO camp is about thirty kilometres from the border of Zambia. It will take them about a week to get there if they walk all day. Once they get there, we are sure to hear from them. I expect they will have demands.’
‘What sort of demands?’
‘They will ask for a ransom since they couldn’t open the safe and did not get the diamonds. They don’t often take captives unless they want to do a swap of some kind. I was in charge of negotiations with MARFO many times, so I have my sources. I expect I will hear from them before too long.’
Black digested this information without mentioning the fabled case of his Filipino mechanic.
‘I have taken enough of your time, General. I will await news from you, and we will proceed as you suggest, once we know what they want.’
‘Thank you for coming. I know you must be worried. We will endeavour to keep you up-to-date with all news as we get it.’
Black left the General sitting on the bench in the atrium, still looking at his shoes.
***
After eight days, the now exhausted MARFO fighters and their captives arrived at their main camp in the north of Tamazia. Sam was in good shape thanks to the food and water provided by Tereza and her boys. She was much thinner than she had been when she had arrived in Tamazia. This would have cheered her up under normal circumstances, but it did not top her current list of priorities. She was marched through the camp with the other staff from Kardo. Curious inhabitants looked on. Some cheered.
The camp consisted of about twenty mud huts with palm leaf roofs, surrounded by a thick hedge of thorn bushes. There was a central open area, which looked like it might occasionally serve as a football pitch. The largest hut opened onto it. There were a few light bulbs strung around the camp at eccentric intervals, indicating the presence of a generator. There was a cooking area where two topless girls were using large blunt-end poles to pound the cassava in the mortars into flour.
Sam waited for her colleagues to make a childish comment about the young breasts swinging free. But Brian and Fred had shrunk in stature and bravado. They both walked by without noticing.
Sam noticed that Bob and his mechanics had enough energy left to make wisecracks about the state of the camp, including asking where the swimming pool was. She was just glad to take off her boots and sit in the shade. The captives were left sitting under a mango tree with one guard, whilst their fate was discussed in the main hut.
It would have been easy to overpower the guard and run away. But she had no idea if the border was close or whether their captors would come after them with guns. She hoped they would be better fed now they were in what looked like a well-run camp with an obvious cooking area.
The arrival of the foreigners caused quite a stir amongst the children in the camp. When they first arrived, the children scattered screaming in terror. Some of the toddlers burst into tears and had to be comforted by their mothers. Edison giggled.
‘Why are they crying?’ asked Sam.
‘When we are small, our mothers tell us that if we don’t go to sleep, the white man will come and eat us. Most of those children have never seen a white person before, never mind a blonde one like you.’
Sam knew that with her light brown hair she was considered blonde but not that she was also terrifying to small children. It was funny to see their little faces screwed up in terror. She told Edison to tell the children not to worry and that she was not one of those white people.
She sat under the mango tree and, little by little, the children overcame their terror and came to touch her hair and her face. As long as she did not move, they were quite brave. But if she lifted her arm, they all ran away screaming and laughing.
Pibé was determined to show that he was not afraid. He sat down in Sam’s lap.
There was a commotion in the main hut. Sam heard several loud voices. This went on for a few minutes. Then the voices fell silent and the door of the main hut opened.
A tall, muscular man with a wispy beard came out. He approached the group and surveyed them with something approaching sympathy.
‘My name is Joao Contes. I am in charge of this MARFO unit,’ he said in Portuguese. There was silence for a few seconds. Then Sam greeted him back.
‘Do you speak more Portuguese than that?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Translate this please: The council of MARFO is grateful for the help of the Filipino workers in carrying our goods back to camp. They are not involved in this white man’s war, so they will be allowed to go home. I have instructed my contact in Mondongo to have them removed as soon as possible. That should happen in a few days’ time. We will keep the white people for ransom. Do not worry. As soon as the ransom is paid, we will release you, too.’
He turned to Sam. ‘Do you know if there is an electrician amongst the Filipinos?’
‘At least one. If you include Bob, I think there are three.’
Sam indicated Bob, who sat amongst his mechanics, smoking a cigarette. Sam guessed that the supply of cigarettes would soon runout. She imagined the panic that wou
ld cause. Worse than being captured? Maybe not. It looked like they would not get the chance to smoke them all.
‘Good. Can you inform them that in return for their freedom, I want them to fix the generator?’
‘Of course.’
She was sure of getting a positive response from the group. They loved to show off their skills and hated not having anything to do. She approached them and translated the news. The Filipinos all cheered and set off with another of the MARFO troops to look for parts amongst the tools and electrical goods stolen from Kardo.
Brian and Fred were nonplussed.
‘What about us?’ asked Fred.
‘I told you,’ said Sam. ‘He says that we are being held for ransom. Don’t worry. I’m sure Black will sort something out.’
‘That show’s how much you know. Black would rather die than pay a ransom. We’re fucked.’ Fred moved back into the shade of the mango tree and spoke to Brian in a low voice.
Sam shrugged. In a strange way, she felt liberated in the MARFO camp. Being the only Portuguese speaker gave her a power that she did not have at Kardo. She wondered if Black would really abandon them. Had the General heard about the raid? What would he think? Was Pedro right that she just a source of easy information?
Sam had been convinced that she had made a genuine connection with the General. She was usually right about these matters. One thing was certain: the connection had been much stronger than the one that Pedro tried to make with her. She shuddered.
***
Soon after the captives arrived in the MARFO camp in the northeast corner of Tamazia, the General was on his way to see the President. He had received the news of their arrival and of the imminent release of the Filipinos from his sources. He was keen to discuss the delicate issue with his brother-in-law, with whom he had a certain amount of influence.
He entered the palace and was shown into the inner sanctum where he was kept waiting a good hour and a half before the President came in. He considered the marble walls and floors that were the best Brazil could offer and cool to the touch even in this infernal heat. The swirling patterns in the rock told stories of ancient orogenies and of heat and pressure under the earth. A large chandelier with hundreds of bulbs hung from the domed roof. The walls were covered in paintings of women with implausible robe slippage. He knew where the oil money was going. In truth, he was getting his share. Being the brother-in-law of the President had its perks.
He heard the tall doors swing open and turned to face the person who had entered. ‘Good morning, Mr President.’
‘Cunhado, good morning. How are you today? And your family, are they well?’
‘Thanks be to God we are all fine, sir. And your family?'
‘Thanks be to God everybody is well also. Have you any news for me?’
‘Yes, sir. We have had news that the Filipino hostages are to be released as soon as practicable. I have instructed Eduardo to go to the north and hire a bus to take them to the nearest airstrip, where we will have a helicopter waiting. He will be given safe passage by the rebels.’
‘That is good news. One less ambassador to worry about. What about the others?’
‘I have heard that MARFO will ask for a ransom for the other foreigners. I suspect it will be a very large number.’
‘Do you have a view on the likelihood of it being paid? I would really prefer that we did not start paying ransoms. It would be a slippery slope as far as MARFO is concerned.’
‘There is no law against ransom payments, sir, but I suspect that Mr Black will not pay. He is more likely to give away his children than his money.’
‘What will MARFO do if the ransom is not paid?’
‘We do not know, sir. This is the first time they have asked for a ransom. In the past they just shot any captives after they had served as mules for the booty from raids on mining camps. The captives will be murdered if the ransom is not paid. I would like permission to rescue them if they are in danger.’
‘Let us see how the situation develops. I don’t want to give any permission right now until I get a clear idea of how things will play out.’
‘But, sir, a rescue operation needs forward planning. I cannot send people in at a moment’s notice. Please, let me organise a raiding party just in case.’
‘No, not yet. Have patience, Fuego. MARFO rebels do not kill their hostages if they think they can get money out of it. They use them to play games. Remember the Filipino who turned up after two years? The captives might be killed in the rescue and I don’t need to generate an international incident just now.’
The President turned away to indicate that he was finished with the discussion. Under normal circumstances, the General would have left it at that. But he had not finished yet.
‘Sir, please. There is a woman amongst the captives. We cannot let them kill her.’
‘Fuego, your peccadillos are not my concern. I have heard that your failure to obtain information from that woman was due to your infatuation with her. I am not risking an international incident so you can rescue your crush. Don’t try my patience. If we need to act, we will. Come and see me when you have news.’
The President swept out of the room and left the General standing by himself in its marble opulence. Fuego knew that arguing with the President was not going to change his mind. He resented the insinuation about Sam. But he knew in his heart of hearts that she had touched him in a way that he was not expecting and he had been unprofessional because of it. When he thought of Sam, it was his heart and not his head that provided the canvas.
It only made it worse that he considered the attack on Kardo to be his fault. If only he had agreed to a reasonable pay raise for the Security staff, they would have been in Kardo and not in Mondongo. The raid only succeeded because some of the senior officers were missing. MARFO headquarters must have received the news from one of their spies and have known that Kardo was vulnerable. The MARFO chiefs had not realised that the key-holders for the diamond recovery plant would also be in Mondongo. All too late now.
Sam was a prisoner and might be murdered. He felt responsible. He got into his car and asked the driver to take him home.
XIII
Life in the MARFO camp soon settled into a routine as nerves became less frayed and it appeared less likely that the rebels planned to harm their guests. The Filipinos had fixed the generator on the first day and had continued to find ways of making life more comfortable, as was their wont. They had made some stands for the cooking pots and a rudimentary barbeque for the kitchen. Bare light bulbs now hung in almost every hut. At six-thirty every night, the generator was called into action, making the whole village shine like a diamond on the pitch dark plain.
Sam had been allocated a small scruffy hut beside the hedge that surrounded the compound. It contained a single bed made of branches raised above the mud floor and a couple of hooks made from twigs thrust into the mud walls. Her mosquito net hung from the roof over the bed.
Sam kept her precious rucksack on her bed covered in a hemp sack, which served as a mattress. It contained the iodine tablets, medical kit, repellent, malaria tablets and her treasured penknife. There was no tea in the camp and she forced herself to drink the hot sweet coffee that was served in the morning.
She spent her days with the women, walking down to the river in the morning to wash herself and her clothes. There was intense interest in her bra, which was often passed around the group and examined. Tereza had managed to borrow a t-shirt from somewhere that almost fitted Sam. She wore it whilst her shirt dried on the hot stones of the river bank.
When the washing was finished, it was time to harvest the cassava and tend to the plantations. Sam was not very good at this and was delegated to child watching, which she found easy. She spent many happy hours joining in the games and rolling around in the dust.
They were always hungry but not starving, so Sam continued to lose weight but at a slower rate than before. She fantasised about food a lot, mostly dairy products
like cream, butter and cheese. Funge was not growing on her but she forced herself to eat it and any meat that was offered.
Edison was a champion mouse catcher and Tereza toasted their little bodies on the barbeque for the children. Sam found them only just worth eating but she remembered tales of Auschwitz and inmates eating insects to survive. She knew that if she were ever to escape, she had to keep her strength up. She told herself that they were just meat and made Tereza cut the heads off so the incisors and bulging eyes did not accuse her of mouse-icide.
She did not mix with the men at all if she could avoid it. There was a lot of curiosity about having a white woman in camp and she had to be very subtle about going to relieve herself. She had twice been aware of men trying to spy on her. The other women kept her safe from most of it, but at night, she preferred to pee in a bowl rather than leave the relative safety of her hut.
Fred and Brian were in another of the small outer huts. They spent their days sleeping in the sun and talking. They could not communicate with anyone in camp and were not interested in helping out. Both had lost a lot of weight. Fred was unrecognisable now that his frame was uncurling from his computer-related hunch. They both had beards and Brian began to look like an aging hippy.
Bob, on the other hand, was always busy, running around fixing things and in his element. He could not speak Portuguese, but that did not stop him from having animated discussions with the MARFO fighters about all things fixable in the camp. He used a twig in the dirt to illustrate most of what he was saying and that worked very well most of the time. Sometimes he roped in Sam to translate when no one could understand, although she could not translate what she could not understand either. Bob could be seen in the evening drinking cassava beer with his mechanics and the MARFO fighters as they sat around the football pitch under the stars.
The bus arrived for the Filipinos on the fifth day in camp. To Sam’s immense surprise, Eduardo stepped off the bus. She was playing with the children and they all ran toward the bus in excitement. She waved at him but he affected not to see her and was shepherded into the main hut by Joao and the other fighters before she could approach him. Meanwhile, the bus driver opened the luggage compartment under the vehicle and called the women over to help him unload the contents.