by Jack Ford
‘Papa Bemba, thank you for coming.’ The small woman greeted Bemba respectfully at the door, nodding her head to Lumumba and the other men who accompanied him.
Bemba’s voice was gruff. ‘Where is he?’
‘Here. This way. He’s bad. I haven’t been able to control his fever.’ She led the men, with Bemba being guided by Lumumba, to the tiny room at the back of the small brick hut.
In the darkness, a young boy no more than ten years old lay in the corner, his black skin marked by hard, painful, weeping lumps, split open and oozing yellow pus, which covered his neck, matching those which sat under his arms and between his legs.
His staggered breathing, loud and hoarse, was intermittently broken for large, red blood clots to be coughed and vomited up. The stench of his body filled the air with a repellent odour as he writhed in pain, muttering muted words. Help. Please help me.
The woman, wide eyed, stared at Bemba imploringly. ‘Please, what can you do?’
Papa Bemba, guided to where the boy lay, sat down on the bed, his hands touching the sick child whilst addressing the woman.
‘The Kindoki lives within him, I told you that before, but you didn’t listen, Sister Zola. You refused to see, blinded by the sight of the possessed, yet you wish me to help you now. I fear it’s too late. His mind is occupied with sorcery contaminating his body with witchcraft.’ Papa Bemba stood up. He shook his head. ‘There is nothing that can be done, Zola.’
The scream from Zola filled the small hut. She fell to her knees at the feet of Papa Bemba. Tears of grief and loss and pain spilled from her as she pulled at Bemba’s clothes. Begging him. Pleading him. Needing him to help. ‘S’il vous plaît prennez mon petit-fils. Please save him…deliver him.’
Papa Bemba put his hand on Zola’s head. ‘If I do, it still may be too late, especially if there are stronger, more powerful spirits working within him. But even to try to deliver him, there needs to be an exchange. The spirits as always will ask for that… The same exchange I told you of before.’
The woman, shaking, wiped her running nose on her sleeve. ‘Mais oui… Yes, anything. Anything.’
Papa Bemba turned to Lumumba. ‘Get the papers.’
Lumumba, took out an envelope from his jacket. Unfolded the papers. Passed them to Zola. His words matter-of-fact. ‘Sign your name, and then it will be down to the spirits to see if they want to save him.’
Zola took the pen, signing her name at the bottom of the typed document.
49
‘It’s Granger!’
Cooper held the satellite phone away from him, looking to Rosedale who shrugged. He cut him a stare. Not appreciating being left to deal with the man.
‘Cooper, goddammit, answer me!’
Hearing Granger loud and clear, Cooper said, ‘I can’t hear you Granger.’
‘Don’t be a jackass, I can hear you and I sure as hell have no doubt you can hear me.’
‘You’re cutting out, sorry Granger, I’ll have to call you back.’
‘Don’t you dare put…’
Cooper switched off the phone. Closed his eyes. Caught his breath. The pressure he felt was intense. Almost physically so. Sweat was running down his face and down his neck and down his back and it was hot but he was shivering and it was like he’d just stepped into a goddamn cooler.
Sitting on the hood of the Toyota, he went into his pocket and pulled out some pills. He couldn’t care less about being discreet. It took too much time. And time was something he didn’t have. He threw them into his mouth. Swallowed. ‘What are we going to do? What’s the plan?’
‘Well first, Thomas, you need to get off your sorry butt, and stop taking…’
Cooper bolted off the hood before Rosedale had finished. Lunged. Sent him flying off balance and down into the muddy waters of the road. Leaning over him, Cooper grabbed hold of his shirt to the sound of ripping cotton. Dragged him up. Banged him. Snagged his back hard against the side of the car.
His eyes were bloodshot and his words were snarled as he panted hard into Rosedale’s face. He pushed his weight against him. Keeping him up against the Toyota. ‘I’m so tired, so sick of your jackass remarks, Rosedale. You gotta get off my case, you hear me. Get off my back because you’re pushing me, man, and I don’t need this crap now. We haven’t got time. Each minute that passes is a minute more she’s gone so what I need, all I need is for you to help me find her. Okay? You listening to me? I need you to help me find Ellie.’
‘Maddie… You mean find Maddie?’
‘Yeah, of course I mean Maddie.’
‘You said…’
He stopped. ‘What?… I said what? Don’t play your games with me, what did I say?’
Rosedale looked at him with the same kind of pity he saw at funerals. Cooper wiped the dry spit from around his mouth. ‘Look, I’m desperate here. I need you, okay. I need you to help me find her… please. I’m begging you Rosedale.’
‘Thomas… I hear you. I’m going to help you. In fact I’m going to do more than that. I’m going to promise that we’ll bring her back safely.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
Cooper’s shoulders slumped. He had to dig deep to stop his feelings overwhelming him. He looked at Rosedale. Brushed down his ripped shirt. Tried to sound apologetic. ‘Sorry, about that. I’ll get you another one.’
‘No need. Never liked it anyway.’
Cooper stared at Rosedale, or maybe it was Rosedale staring at him. He wasn’t sure. But for a moment it felt like there was an understanding between them.
Getting into the car, Rosedale started the engine. ‘We go down to the village. Speak to the locals. We can pay them to come and help search the area. It’s light so it’ll give us a great chance of finding her if she did wander off and get lost. Maddie isn’t stupid. She’s highly trained and knows exactly what she’s doing. If she’s hurt or lost she’ll know what to do. If she’s somewhere nearby, we’ll find her.’
‘And if she’s been taken by some of the militia groups around here, which we know there are a whole heap of. What then?’
‘Then, Thomas, we pray.’
50
‘Naomi, if I ask you to find me ten minutes today to talk to Teddy, can you do that without making out we’re in a state of Armageddon?… What do you reckon?’
Naomi Tyler went to say something but stopped. Felt a sharp pain in the corner of her mouth. She touched it gently. Felt the tiny open lesion from the beginnings of a cold sore. ‘Actually, I can do more than that, Mr. President. I can give you fifteen minutes and you can have them now. We’ve got an unexpected window. The group who were coming to speak about combating wildlife trafficking, their flight’s been delayed. They won’t be able to have the meeting with you now and I don’t think for the time being it’s necessary to re-schedule. We can still find someone to speak to them, and I also thought we could give them a mini behind-the-scenes tour. Soften the blow.’
Woods, slightly distracted by Joan’s copy of National Geographic sitting on his desk, said, ‘Okay, sounds good. Oh, and Naomi, try some Zovirax on that, it looks sore. Too much stress.’
Naomi’s fingers automatically went up to touch the corner of her mouth again. ‘I usually use Fenistil, but I’ll give it a go. My sister said to use orange balm.’
Teddy scratched his head, grateful most of the small burns on his scalp from the hair relaxing cream had finally gone. ‘You don’t want to use that. All that homemade remedy stuff, it’s all a heap of junk. Only works if there’s nothing wrong with you.’
Woods laughed and shook his head at his chief of staff. He winked at Naomi.
‘Would you mind asking Joan to arrange a coffee for me in ten minutes…? You want one, Teddy?’
Teddy nodded.
‘Make that two.’
With the door of the Oval Office now shut, Woods glanced at Teddy and said, ‘What’s the latest on Donald Parker?’
‘All checks have come back clean. And his company, Nadbury
electronics, are the same. His mines are conflict free. And unlike a lot of companies who mine in the DRC, he’s put a lot back into the community.’
‘That’s pretty impressive.’
‘I agree because although one of the stipulations for foreign companies to mine over there is that they invest correctly in communities and the environment, which companies are going to actually do it when there’s no-one to check they’re doing it properly?’
‘I can’t remember the name of them, but do you remember that American company a few years ago before I was in office that promised they’d build new hospitals and schools for the area if they were allowed to mine there? Well, they gave virtually nothing.’
‘You mean the one who just gave crates of beer and a hundred dollars to the local church?’
Woods said, ‘That’s the one. And their company ended up earning millions and they would’ve earned more if the mines in that particular area hadn’t been taken over by the local militia.’
‘Tell me a mine in the DRC which hasn’t.’
Woods flicked through the file Teddy had brought in on Nadbury Electronics. ‘Well, clearly from reading this, not Donald Parker’s mines. Conflict free. Militia free. That’s some going. Maybe that’s the key to it. Really invest into the community and you’ve got half a chance.’
‘Or more likely he got lucky.’
Woods shook his head. ‘There’s no such thing as luck. The guy’s clearly put his money where his mouth is and invested heavily in the area. But he knows it’s worth it. The untapped resources around there are worth billions, and he can go in and reap millions and millions of dollars’ profit, by putting in just a fraction of that to help rebuild the DRC with proper social investment. And because of that he can now offer clean minerals, which is an investment not only within the DRC but an investment for the future. We need to put our foot on the throat of other companies, but it’s difficult with all the appeals, so I guess for now the real pressure will be from the consumers. Parker’s right, the American people want to know they’re helping, or at least not hurting others.’
‘So you think this campaign with Nadbury is something you want to back?’
Woods stared out of the window at nothing particular. Yawned. Covered his mouth too late. ‘I don’t see why not. Obviously we’ll speak to the others, but my feeling is this campaign with Nadbury can only spell good. Parker gets his products into schools and colleges and eventually his brand becomes the number one product, but not because of any manipulation or false advertising, or lobbying. But because people want to do what’s right. And backing products which are conflict free is right. Period. And in return for this administration supporting the campaign, hey…’
‘You get the votes you need for the gun reforms.’
‘Whatever happened to the days of just doing things because it’s morally right?’
‘Was there such a day? Because if there was I can’t remember. This is Washington, John. It’s always been like this. You give something I want and then I give something you want back. It’s like a giant game of Monopoly.’
Irritated, Woods clicked his fingers. ‘Did you speak to the senators on the list by the way?’
‘I did. And every single one of them will give their support.’
For the first time since the idea had been placed in front of him, Woods felt a rush of excitement. ‘You think we can really do this Teddy? Pull it off?’
‘I think so.’
‘But the reforms are going on the floor in three weeks. Doesn’t give us much time.’
‘John, it only took twenty-eight days for us to go into Iraq after 9/11. I think between Parker and our team we can manage to rustle up a press package and a strategy campaign plan. He’s not expecting us to be doing anything much before the vote. Only thing he wants is a press announcement in a couple of weeks, setting out our joint vision for both the national and international campaign. I’m quietly confident. I think it’s a fantastic opportunity. You’ve put everything into these reforms. Let’s make it happen.’
A smile slowly spread across Woods’s face. ‘Teddy, you really should go into politics.’
‘Same couldn’t be said about you.’
Woods winked and said, ‘By the way, you didn’t tell me exactly what Nadbury had done to invest into the community.’
‘They built a water treatment plant. Supplies clean water for a large area in South Kivu, East of the DRC. It’s called Lemon. Lemon Water plant.’
51
The trees and plants of the forest rioted upwards, shading the track from the river of sunlight as they twisted and bent and arched over the red mud road, creating a natural pergola. The air was heavy and oppressive and the stream of silence filled the car as Rosedale and Cooper drove towards the village.
An opening in the hillside allowed them to break from their thoughts, which neither of them wanted to share with each other.
Ahead they saw a small collection of huts, palm leafs and corrugated iron in the distance. Rosedale touched the brakes and they came to a stop on the brow of the hill.
‘We take it easy okay? I know you’re ready to bite, but we’re in the middle of nowhere, and probably not more than a mile from a heavily armed militia group. So no accusations, no hostility. We just go in there and be polite. Ask questions, maybe even get their help. Remember who you are, Thomas, what you’ve been trained in. Separate emotion from action. Separate what our goal is with Maddie. From this moment on until we find her, we just think of her as our objective. You got that?’
Cooper nodded. At ease with Rosedale taking the lead.
‘But more importantly, Thomas, and you need to hear me on this one… separate all this from Ellie.’
52
The criss-crossed dirt paths of the village were lined with people by the time Rosedale and Cooper had walked down the track. Impassable by car and only just manageable by foot. Curious, suspicious stares devoid of animosity, tracked their approach.
Rosedale tipped his hat. Smiled. Nodded respectfully. But Cooper had no doubt Rosedale was acutely aware of the time it would take him to draw on the two high capacity single action FN Five-seven MK handguns hidden beneath his clothing.
A man, wizened by age and the relentless Congolese sun, shuffled towards them. His greeting humble, but friendly.
‘Can I help you?’
It was a straight, simple question, making it easy for Cooper to give a reply. He was wired; anything more, he would’ve struggled with. ‘I hope so, we’re looking for our friend. We were camped out in the forest last night, and we’ve lost her, we just hope nothing bad has happened.’
The man nodded as the onlookers moved in closer, forming a circle around them. ‘Is she a good person?’
Without hesitation, Cooper said. ‘She is. The best.’
‘Then no doubt the spirits will keep her from harm.’
The old man turned to walk away, but stopped as Cooper struggled to heed Rosedale’s words. ‘Is that it?’
Surprised, the man answered, ‘Yes.’
And that didn’t sit well with Thomas J. Cooper. Not one little bit. He stepped forward. Shook Rosedale’s hand off his arm. Raised his voice. ‘I’m talking to you. Hey, I said I’m talking to you. And just so you know, that’s not it. Not even close. You see usually when someone says a person’s missing then the whole village, the whole town, the whole goddamn city does something about it.’
Rosedale tried to pull him away, but hadn’t a hope. He had a dog in the fight.
And the distrust was beginning to appear on the faces of the men and women as the old man stared at Cooper intently before smiling.
‘If she’s meant to come back, she will. And if you say this friend of yours is a good person, then there’s no need to worry… However, from your reaction I can see you’re not a believer.’
Cooper started to grind his teeth in agitation. His jaw felt tight. Realized he was clenching it. ‘A believer in what?’
In contrast, th
e man was calm. Warm. A hint of pity in his voice. ‘In what you can’t see. The souls, the spirits of those that have passed and now walk amongst us in the blanket of invisibility surrounding us. They’re the ones who you need to ask, only they can find your friend.’
For some reason Cooper’s vision began to blur in his left eye. He pushed his palm against it. Hollered after the man as he walked away. ‘The hell you know what I believe in. The hell you do! You know nothing about me!’
The man threw his arms up in the air, not bothering turning back. ‘Then wait, do nothing, let the spirits guide her back.’ Then he stopped to swivel round, giving a large toothless grin to Cooper. ‘Or if you wish, ask the members of the community to help you if it makes you feel better. I’m sure they’ll be happy to.’
The cackle from the old man infuriated Cooper but he didn’t have a chance to act on it with Rosedale whipping him round, jabbing and prodding and poking and pushing him angrily in the chest.
‘What the hell’s the matter with you, boy? What did I tell you? Keep it cool. Separate emotion. Think about our objective. And what do you go and goddamn do, hey?’
Cooper slammed back at Rosedale. Thumped him hard in the chest. ‘Get the hell off me.’
‘Look at you, you’re a mess. You of all people, Thomas, should know better. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling us we need to look beyond the box? Yet here you are acting like a prize asshole with this guy. Sort yourself out or get off the job.’
‘The hell I will.’
‘I’ll drag you off the job myself if I have to.’
‘Just what is it you want from me?’
Rosedale raised his voice, not caring most of the villagers were standing around watching. ‘I want you to decide right now if you’re up to this, Lieutenant, because I don’t think you are. I think you’re a liability and as such you put the whole operation and us in danger.’
Cooper swiped his hand at the finger Rosedale was pointing at him. ‘Where do you get off Rosedale? This isn’t some military op we’re on, and who do you think you are telling me I’m a liability? I’ve got your back; you know I have. Question is, have you got mine?’