‘He’s fucking with our minds,’ observed Anastasia.
‘He has been all along,’ replied Richard grimly.
‘Let’s hope he stops at our minds,’ added Robin, glancing at Anastasia’s pale, determined face and thinking of the obscene wooden phallus in her blood-spattered bed last night. Then she changed the subject slightly, raising her own hand and catching Kebila’s eye. ‘And was it only the impact of a bullet — or a leopard — that was designed to detonate the bomb? One hears so much about mobile phones being used. Bombs set off by hand, simply by dialling the right number. Or putting it in the memory and hitting recall …’
‘We searched the jungle right the way down to the river itself,’ countered Kebila, ‘but we found no one there. Certainly no one close enough to have seen what was going on and decided when to detonate by hand …’
‘But,’ interjected Richard, ‘your local mobile phone company has such a well-structured network here that phone signals can be broadcast for miles up and down the river. And I don’t suppose my phone is unique in having a very effective built-in video camera.’
‘I see your point, Captain Mariner,’ said Kebila formally to Richard. ‘Someone miles away could have been watching pictures transmitted by the phone strapped to Livitov’s chest as part of the bomb. And as soon as he saw we were close enough, he would simply hit the right number, even if he was up on the shores of Lac Dudo or on the slopes of Karisoke. This has all clearly been very cleverly thought through and quite meticulously planned — not to mention being extremely well-equipped. And that fact alone immediately raises another consideration …’ Kebila paused, clearly deep in thought.
After a moment or two, Richard continued with what he supposed the colonel’s sentence would have concluded. ‘That Odem, or someone close to him, has been to the terrorist training camps in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Sudan or Somalia. That they have returned not only with the knowledge and the techniques used by Al Qaeda, the Taliban, Al Shabaab, Boko Haram and the rest, but also the sort of equipment they use. That means money and — probably most worryingly of all — pretty upfront political support. And, if the evidence shown to President Chaka and the conversations I have had with him are anything to go by, that support may well be coming from just across your south-eastern border. Just on the eastern slopes of Mount Karisoke itself. Which, at the very least, also explains his access to replacement technicals and — suddenly and unexpectedly — to river boats that are large enough to transport them.’
Kebila nodded. ‘It also means,’ he continued, ‘that we — and of course Mr Asov’s men — will be facing something relatively new. A seventies-style jungle-wise bush army like Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army, combined with a terrorist trained and equipped cadre, equivalent to a top-flight Al Qaeda cell, with access to and expertise in the most cutting edge of twenty-first-century hardware. We may all find that we are fighting two entirely different types of war with the same people in the same place and at the same time.’
‘Everything from AKs, cocaine and Ngoboi,’ nodded Richard thoughtfully, ‘to IEDs, smart phones and the Internet.’
‘It seems to me,’ said Anastasia militantly, ‘that it doesn’t matter a damn whether you’ve got smartphones or spears, clubs or computers. Or whether you’re Abubakar Shekau, Habeeb Bama, Odem, Ngoboi or Osama Bin Laden. Once the bullet goes through your head, you’re dead.’
‘That’s true,’ answered Kebila gently. ‘Our problem will be getting to Odem’s head. Or Ngoboi’s.’
‘They managed it with Joseph Kony, Habeek Bama and Osama Bin Laden. It shouldn’t be beyond us!’ persisted Anastasia curtly. ‘We cut our way through the jungle to the Army of Christ. We cut our way through the Army of Christ to Odem and Ngoboi. And we shoot the fuckers. Job done. Simple!’
‘If that was all there was to it, then it would indeed be simple,’ agreed Kebila. And both Richard and Robin were relieved that his tone was not in the slightest bit patronizing. ‘But you know as well as I do, Miss Asov, that it will not be anywhere near that easy. Even for the impressively skilled army of Amazons you have trained to protect your orphanage.’
‘I didn’t train my people just to sit here and wait for someone to come up and go boo! to them,’ said Anastasia brusquely. ‘Any more than you did. Or are doing now — I assume!’
‘Quite,’ said Kebila drily. ‘But we are here to regroup and to plan our next foray upriver. You are not. You and your command will remain here to guard the orphanage. I will leave some of my men to stand alongside you under the command of Sergeant Tchaba, with whom I believe you will work very well. But I’m afraid you have accompanied us for the last time. For the immediate future, at any rate,’ he added as he saw a murderously mutinous look descend on Anastasia’s face. Then he looked back at his own officers. ‘And of course we have a new priority as well. On top of finding and neutralizing Odem and the Army of Christ, it is our clear duty to try and rescue the other Russian, if we can. Corporal Livitov’s missing companion.’
‘Brodski,’ snarled Anastasia, as though the word were an insult she was throwing in Kebila’s face. ‘His name is Sandor Abramovich Brodski.’ And she got up, grabbed her rifle and turned to leave the tent.
‘It might be just as well if you were to stay here,’ said Robin to Anastasia later, as Richard accompanied the two women back to the main orphanage building. ‘The camp was deserted all morning except for the maintenance, admin and catering staff. The Zubrs were both gone and all the Russians aboard them. It was tense here, creepy. Obviously Father Emil and the sisters were all bustling about, taking classes and running the orphanage as usual. The ancillary staff were cooking for the children, feeding them breakfast, lunch after the lessons and so forth. We even had a visit from the elders of the town to see how we were — and to catch up on the gossip. But everyone was on edge. Your Amazons were all like cats on hot bricks until Esan and Ado took them off. And then, when they were gone, the rest of the children were simply terrified …’
Anastasia nodded curtly. ‘I know. They rely on me more and more. Too much, I think. But it’s only because of the way the country’s still being run — too much military, not enough police. Yes, I know. Like at home in Russia still. The best way to deal with the army and get some civil order is to put Celine in the President’s Palace. And the best way to deal with everything else they’re afraid of is to bring Odem to justice and prove Ngoboi is no more than his puppet.’
‘You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?’ asked Richard gently.
‘Of course I have, Richard,’ she said quietly, pronouncing his name Reekard in the Russian way. ‘Without Celine running things beside me, this place is becoming as much of a prison as a home to me. I do not want to spend the rest of my life in an African Butyrka. I have been planning my escape. And it looks like getting rid of Odem is the best way to make a start.’
Mosquito