Danny folded his arms in front of his chest. Nuri had told him that Commander John was likely to run interference. He was determined to show that he wasn’t intimidated by his bluster.
“What are you standing there for?” said Commander John. “Have you come here for business? If so, you will deal with me.”
“Where is Uncle Dpap?” Danny repeated.
“Deal with me,” said Commander John. Since being a tough guy wasn’t working, he decided to try a different tact. “Let us get something to drink.”
The computer translated, and when Danny didn’t immediately respond, suggested what he should say.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” offered MY-PID, first in English, then in Arabic.
“Where is Uncle Dpap?” insisted Danny. The computer’s response seemed too polite.
Commander John frowned, then walked into the store. He came out with a pair of Cokes and the storekeeper.
“Here,” he said, holding one out to Danny. “Would you like some other refreshment?”
Danny eyed the drink, then turned to Boston.
Boston took the drink, sipped, then handed it back to Danny.
“You don’t trust me?” said Commander John.
“No,” said Danny, in English.
The Voice gave him the word in Arabic, but Danny didn’t repeat it.
“You are English?” said Commander John.
“I am not a citizen of any country,” said Danny, first in English, then in the Arabic the computer offered.
“Sit, sit,” said Commander John, gesturing toward a table. “Come, let us talk.”
Danny shook his head.
“I speak only to Uncle Dpap,” he told Commander John, first in English, then in Arabic.
Commander John was so befuddled by the stranger that he didn’t even wonder why he was translating from English into Arabic if he spoke English. He noticed the earphone clipped into Danny’s ear, but thought it connected him to his security team. A device like the Voice belonged to the realm of fantasy as far as he was concerned.
“My brother will speak to you. But first, some refreshment. Drink.”
Commander John took a long guzzle from the bottle. Danny took a small sip. It wasn’t that he thought the rebel was trying to poison him. He just didn’t like cola.
“Your men should have something as well,” Commander John said. He gestured to the shopkeeper.
“My men are paid not to want anything,” said Danny loudly.
The members of the team — all mercenaries hired in Gambella — stiffened. A few were thirsty, but the outlaw arms dealer had already paid them the equivalent of three months’ wages, with the promise of three more at the end of the week.
Uncle Dpap had listened to the conversation from the door of the church. Deciding he’d heard enough, he signaled Tilia to accompany him and went outside. Pausing on the steps, he gazed across the street at his brother and the stranger.
Was this the answer to his prayers? Or an agent of the government?
If the latter, the man would not leave the village alive.
Three miles away, sitting in Abul’s bus, Nuri watched a laptop displaying the feed from one of the video bugs they’d stuck on the roof of the Land Cruisers. He was just far enough away not to be seen, but close enough to rally to Danny’s aid if things went bad.
Maybe. Flash and McGowan were with him, and while he had no doubt they were good at what they did, three against thirty was still pretty poor odds.
Danny seemed to be carrying off the charade fairly well, however. He was a natural for the part — the less he spoke, the more nervous the others became. And the more nervous they were, the greater his advantage.
To a point. If Uncle Dpap became so nervous he felt he was in danger, he might order his men to open fire. The trick was not to make him quite that nervous. But Danny seemed to have it well in hand. Nuri watched as Uncle Dpap swept his hand to the side, gesturing that Danny should accompany him.
“I’d rather stay in the sun,” said Danny. “I have nothing to hide.”
He’s good, thought Nuri. He almost has me believing he’s a scumbag.
“Where is this ammunition? You have it in your trucks?” demanded Uncle Dpap.
“I’m not stupid,” said Danny, in English. He let Tilia translate; the Voice indicated she was extremely accurate. “I can supply whatever needs you have.”
“How can I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t trust me,” said Danny.
Uncle Dpap looked back at him with surprise when Tilia told him what he had said.
“You shouldn’t trust anyone,” explained Danny. “Just as I don’t trust you. Did you kill your last supplier?”
The question angered Uncle Dpap. “I heard that he was killed by police in Europe,” said the rebel. “But maybe you killed him.”
“Your friend was a very small operator. The business he did was minor compared to the business I do.”
“So why are you offering to sell me anything?” said Uncle Dpap. “If I am a small ant to you, I’m not worth your time.”
“You’re not an ant.” Danny softened his expression, realizing he was pushing things a bit too hard. “You are bringing freedom to your people, and watching out for them. All of these people depend on you. You are a lion, not an ant.”
Uncle Dpap knew sweet talk when he heard it, and frowned.
“My problem is my overhead, my expenses,” continued Danny. “I need to deal in volume. But here is a proposition — get some of the other rebels together and I will sell to all of you. The same price, the same fair arrangements. It will be easy for you. You will all benefit.”
“That is impossible,” said Uncle Dpap. “We do not work together.”
Danny shrugged. Then pulled open his armored vest, revealing a Beretta stuck in a holster at his belt.
Uncle Dpap’s men jumped to alert. Danny bodyguards did the same.
“Here,” said Danny, reaching for the gun slowly. “This is for you.”
He held the gun out. Uncle Dpap looked at it suspiciously.
“It’s a present,” said Danny.
Uncle Dpap grabbed it and pointed it at Danny’s forehead.
“If you want to shoot me…” Danny waited for Tilia to translate before continuing. “…you will need these.”
He reached into his pocket for the bullets.
Arm fully extended, Uncle Dpap pulled the trigger anyway. Danny didn’t flinch. Uncle Dpap took the bullets but didn’t put them in the gun.
“You are a brave man,” conceded the leader. “But not a foolish one.”
“When you need to call me, use this phone,” said Danny, pulling a small satellite phone from his breast pocket. “Use it only for that. Make one call only. Say nothing. When the call registers, I will come that night. Use it only for that purpose.”
Uncle Dpap gestured for Tilia to take the phone.
“I want to deal with everyone,” said Danny. “It is very expensive to bring weapons here. But I can supply whatever you want. I have no trouble getting anything. That gun is an American Army pistol. There are none better in the world.”
“OK,” said Uncle Dpap. “Perhaps we will have your meeting after all.”
Boston felt as if he’d been holding his breath for the past half hour.
“I thought that bastard was going to slap the bullets in the gun and fire,” he told Danny as he maneuvered the Land Cruiser through the crowd of people on the street. “I really did.”
“He only pulled the trigger to see if I would flinch.”
“Did you?”
“A little,” admitted Danny.
Had Uncle Dpap put the bullets in the gun, Danny would have ordered the Voice to fire the two small guns secreted in the yellow lights on top of the Land Cruisers. The guns — basically miniturrets — had been targeted on Uncle Dpap and his closest bodyguards the whole time.