Lords of Corruption (33 page)

"I wonder."

"What?"

"I'm starting to question your commitment to our charitable activities, Aleksei. Suddenly every employee you send is less competent than the last. And the one man you have who has proven to be even somewhat reliable has suddenly disappeared. I have to wonder if your priorities have changed."

The wording was careful, implying that
Mtiti thought someone might be listenin
g t
hat NewAfrica's real purpose had bee
n d
iscovered and Fedorov was now working with the American authorities.

"This has been a very profitable situation for both of us, Mr. President. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that."

There was a brief silence. "In the interests of my people, I am shutting down all of NewAfrica's projects and nationalizing all of its interests in my country --"

"You can't do that!" Fedorov shouted. "We've spent years building this business. I've done --"

"Then perhaps you would be willing to show me that you're taking our relationship seriously?"

Fedorov pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Hagarty's sister, the only living thing left in the room. She came out of her stupor and began trying to scream through her gag as his finger hovered over the trigger. For everything her pissant brother had done, for everything his bullshit had cost, she deserved to die. She deserved the worst he could dream up. . . .

His finger relaxed, and he reluctantly tucked the gun back into his waistband. Not yet.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I think I could be persuaded to let NewAfrica continue its work if you were t
o c
ome here personally and oversee the efforts to fix the problems you've caused."

Fedorov began pacing again. His African operations had become so profitable that he'd dedicated virtually all his resources to them. There was no denying that he was now completely dependent on Mtiti for the flow of money that kept him stronger than his enemies. If Mtiti were to throw New-Africa out of his country, USAID and the UN would pull the contracts NewAfrica was managing, and the profits from drugs, weapons, and the resale of food aid would cease. His power would disintegrate almost overnight.

"Aleksei?"

The only option was to stall. In Africa he would be entirely at the mercy of Mtiti's wild mood swings and paranoia. At some point the risk might be necessary, but the situation hadn't degenerated that far yet.

"Thank you for the invitation, Excellency. Of course I'd be honored to come."

"And when can I expect you?"

When hell freezes over.

"Let me look into travel arrangements, and I'll get back to you."

Chapter
44.

"There was no way I could have just walked out with them," Josh said. "There were people everywhere, and I didn't know if the guards were still there."

It was hard to see Annika's face in the darkness created by the blanket he'd thrown over them, but when he moved to dislodge the vehicle's jack from his back, a flash of light illuminated an uncertain expression.

"I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm sorry, Annika."

"For what?"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but come on. For a million things."

"Oh, I know. I meant which one of those things in particular?"

He was shocked when he saw the di
m o
utline of her mouth turn up for a moment.

Even pissed off, she continued to be th
e m
ost amazing person he'd ever met. He
r a
bility to maneuver through a country tha
t w
ould stop at nothing to kill them was not only fascinating to watch but also the reason he was still breathing. She'd managed to find a Yvimbo store owner who was willing to hide them and who had sent his children to watch Trent's neighborhood for the arrival of the truck that picked up the trash. And now their new accomplice was cheerfully tailing that truck in Trent's Land Cruiser.

"Soldiers," the man said in Yvimbo. It was one of ten or so words Josh understood, and he peeked out from beneath the blanket, glimpsing a rusting Jeep as it passed. Mtiti's men gave their vehicle a quick look and continued on.

Josh had used white house paint to cover the NewAfrica logo on the Land Cruiser's door and then spent a sweaty two hours kicking dents in it and dousing it with mud. So far the impromptu camouflage job was working.

"I should have gone back," he said, retreating back beneath the blanket. "When there weren't any guards, I should have gone back for the papers."

"I'm grateful you made it out at all, Josh."

He wanted to believe she was right, bu
t t
he truth was that he'd made the decisio
n b
ased entirely on fear. Once he'd escape
d t
hrough the front gate, nothing was going to get him to go back.

"Let's see if you still feel the same way after spending the day digging around in an African garbage dump," he said, trying to lighten the mood and failing miserably.

She rolled on top of him, creating a quiet sucking sound as their sweaty bodies stuck together. "I'm sorry, too."

"For what?" he said, trying not to show his surprise at the sudden collapse of the distance that had seemed to grow between them since their escape from her village.

"I've been unfair to you."

"Are you kidding? I --"

"Let me finish. I've judged you because I believed that everything you were doing was to save yourself. And I believe it's intentions, and not so much actions, that define
US.

"Annika, you have to under--"

"You're not letting me finish!"

"Sorry."

"I let myself forget that you could have sat by your pool and left the project to Gideon while you waited for a plane to take you home. There was no reason for you to get involved in this when JB asked you. But you did."

"And now a lot of people are dead. Including us, maybe."

"Yes, maybe. But when you're finally judged, I think you won't have as much explaining to do."

"The pearly gates? I don't think so. I'm alive now, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Best to not put all your chickens in one basket."

"Eggs."

"What?"

Despite the heat, he wrapped his arms around her. It felt good to have her back. "Never mind."

They drove for another hour, her sleeping with her face buried in his neck and him thinking of home, of Laura, and of the old woman with dirt in her eyes.

"We here!" the man driving suddenly announced.

Annika's head jerked up and the blanket slid from them, letting in the blinding midmorning sun. Josh pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted through the windows, perplexed by what he saw. The garbage truck -- actually just an open dump truck -- was there, but instead of a lonely, rotting landfill, he saw a dusty plain crowded with people.

As usual, Annika seemed neither surprised nor particularly concerned. She floppe
d o
ver the seat and got out through the back door, poking her head back in a moment later. "Are you coming?"

"Where the hell are we?"

She held out a hand and he took it, following her out into the heat as the crowd waited for the garbage truck to be unloaded. The man who had chauffeured them there came around the car and held out a hand. "I wish you luck."

Josh shook off his confusion long enough to reach out and take it. "You really saved us, man. I can't tell you how grateful we are."

He obviously didn't understand, but his eyes widened when Josh proffered the ring he'd taken from Stephen Trent's finger. To his surprise, the man just shook his head and started walking back toward the city.

"It's a market," Annika said, tugging him toward what he estimated to be at least a hundred people. "What wealthy people throw away still has value to the poor."

He didn't move. "I thought nobody'd be here, Annika. What are the chances nobody here knows Mtiti's looking for us?"

"Pretty small," she said, pulling harder on his arm. "But there's no point in worrying about things that we can't control."

* * * *

Most of the people there were focused on the men throwing garbage bags from the truck, but he and Annika were receiving an increasing amount of attention as she barged through the crowd with him in tow.

"You go that way," she said pointing to the right. "I'll look over here."

"We should stay together," he said nervously.

"No, it's better if we find what we're looking for quickly and leave here."

He watched reluctantly as the bemused Africans moved aside to let her examine and occasionally rifle through the neat rows of refuse on display.

He did the same, pushing his way down the line of people negotiating unintelligibly for things that even his family wouldn't have thought twice about throwing away.

Paper was pretty common, but he seemed to be the only person interested in that particular class of rubbish. Most of it was shredded -- valuable perhaps to get a cooking fire going, but not for much else. After ten minutes of wrestling with the mob, the closest he'd come to finding what he was looking for was a stack of old recipes written in Dutch.

He was nearly to the end of the row when angry shouts became audible to his left. A few people who weren't having much luck shopping perked up at the possibility of a fight over a broken lamp or leaking car battery, but he ignored the noise and continued his search. A moment later a man standing on the bumper of the garbage truck started pointing at him and then in the direction of the yelling.

Annika.

He shoved his way desperately through the people but slowed when he got closer, crouching slightly to try to stay as hidden as his skin tone would allow. The crowd seemed inclined to help him, and people moved quietly out of his way as he pressed forward.

He stopped about five feet from the edge of a large circle that had opened in the crowd. Annika was at the center of it, arguing loudly with yet another well-armed child. He was probably fifteen, wearing a typical uniform of tattered fatigue pants and a dirty T-shirt that read, "Don't Worry, Be Happy." The machine gun in his hands was aimed at Annika, but when he spoke he seemed to be addressing the crow
d u
ndoubtedly explaining that she was wante
d b
y the government and listing whatever charges Mtiti had manufactured.

Josh maneuvered until he was directly behind the boy, but he wasn't certain what to do. What he was sure of, though, was that the more Annika protested, the madder the kid got. He seemed to want the people around him to do something -- grab her? Kill her? Call Mtiti? There was no way to know. So far everyone seemed content to just watch. It wouldn't last, though. Eventually something was going to give.

With no other options to consider, Josh slipped out of the crowd and walked as calmly as he could toward the boy. All eyes were suddenly on him, but the boy was too focused on Annika to immediately notice. When he finally spun, Josh was only a few feet away.

He lunged and grabbed the barrel of the gun, pushing it skyward as the boy pulled the trigger. He could feel the heat of it as it jerked in his hand, drowning out the sudden panicked shouts of the people around them.

With his free hand, Josh pulled Gideon's pistol from his waistband and slammed it into the top of the kid's head. He sank to the ground, and Josh just stood there, heart pounding in his chest and machine gu
n b
urning in his palm. The crowd that had partially scattered reassembled, and he looked at the individual faces, wondering what to do. He'd nearly decided on firing the machine gun into the air and making a break for the Land Cruiser when a man emerged and pointed to the stack of New-Africa documents at Annika's feet.

Whatever he said was met with a smirk and roll of her eyes. He spoke again, and a noisy argument broke out between them. Despite this, and the fact that Josh was still standing there with a gun in each hand and an unconscious soldier at his feet, the people around them quickly lost interest. They began talking among themselves and went back to their shopping as though this kind of thing happened every day.

Annika waved a dismissive hand in the air and started back toward the Land Cruiser. "Annika! What's going on?"

"He wants ten euros."

"Are you nuts? Give it to him."

"I'm not paying ten euros for a bunch of papers no one wants."

Josh dropped the machine gun and fished around in his pocket for the money, but by the time he found it, the man had run up behind Annika and put a hand on her shoulder. After another few seconds o
f d
iscussion, a triumphant smile spread across her face and she peeled two one-dollar bills off the wad in her hand.

Chapter
45.

Josh penetrated deeper into the cave, trying to ignore a stench that he'd decided was a leopard lying in wait. Only when it became too dark to safely continue did he turn on Stephen Trent's sat phone, confirm that there was no signal, and disable the GPS function. Satisfied that the phone couldn't be tracked, he walked back out into the sunshine, where Annika was organizing the supplies they'd purchased: a water purifier, food in bags emblazoned with A Gift from the American People, a tent, a solar stove.