Congo Dawn Page 40

  Robin bit back a cry of dismay as her iPad, too, became shards of plastic and metal. With a triumphant grunt, Mulroney retrieved Joseph’s flash drive and phone from the heap. “Now where is he?”

  Robin’s heart was racing, but her eyebrows rose innocently. “Where is who?”

  The openhanded blow across her mouth was as unanticipated as painful. “Don’t play with me, Duncan. Where’s Jini? The only way you could be in possession of that intel you showed Jensen is straight from Jini himself.”

  “Uh, boss?” At Trevor Mulroney’s slap, Ernie had stepped forward, looking even more uncomfortable. “Just what’s going on here?”

  Mulroney threw the Vietnam vet an annoyed glance. “What’s going on is that we’ve got a mole in the camp. Our translator has been fraternizing with the enemy. Worse, she’s been passing on intel for him to a journalist. The BBC, no less.”

  If he’d accused Robin of communicating with a serial killer, there’d have been fewer stunned and accusing expressions. Mercenaries had not traditionally fared well at the hands of the international press, above all white mercenaries involved in Africa’s many wars. And almost every man in this room blamed just such insurgents as Jini for ending colonial dominion in their homelands. As they blamed the international media for taking the side of African rebels. Consorting with native opposition, spilling an op to a journalist ranked with the highest acts of treason.

  “You’ve all experienced the drill,” the Earth Resources CEO went on contemptuously. “An insurgent leader cries foul to some sympathizing journalist, and all of a sudden he’s David fighting Goliath, while the media makes us out to be the bad guys.”

  Robin could see on her teammates’ faces she’d lost any sympathy that blow might have roused. But she was given no chance to defend herself. Outside, there’d been no further gunfire but plenty of screaming and shouting. In contrast, absolute silence reigned behind the curtain where Benjamin had retreated. That such small children knew so well to freeze into silence was more troubling than tears and screams. And now a newcomer was ducking through the door. Pieter Krueger.

  “Boss, the target’s not on-site. And there’s someone else we can’t find anywhere. The American doctor, Stewart.”

  “Stewart! I might have known!” Brutal fingers bit into Robin’s upper arm as Trevor Mulroney leaned forward to loom above her slighter frame. “Your boyfriend from Afghanistan, right? Let me guess, he’s the one who passed that intel to you. I should have trusted my gut feeling that you were trouble, Lt. Chris R. Duncan! Now where is your traitor boyfriend? Where is Jini? And your journalist pal—what does he think he’s up to?”

  Robin wanted to cry out at the pain of his grip. Instead she pressed her free hand against a cut lip to answer coolly, “Dr. Michael Stewart is a humanitarian volunteer who seeks nothing but peace for this country. What possible motive could he have to take sides with any insurgent leader who’s done the kinds of things you accuse Jini of?”

  An abrupt chilling of Mulroney’s ice-blue glare would have been a dead giveaway had Robin still needed confirmation. It’s all true, then! And he doesn’t want the others to know why Michael would take Jini’s side. Which means they’re not completely part of all this! If I can make them see the truth . . .

  But the Earth Resources CEO only said bitingly, “Why should some bleeding heart humanitarian take the side of a native rebel above his own kind? Good question if it didn’t happen every day. Bigger question is how a Marine lieutenant, a veteran Ares Solutions operative, takes the side of a bleeding heart humanitarian. Guess it’s not such a big question, is it? Love does strange things.”

  Her colleagues had bought it, Robin could see. Pieter Krueger’s handsome features especially were tight with fury. “Stewart grew up here. If Jini’s from the zone, they could even be old pals.” He glared at Robin. “As for Duncan, I’ve had concerns from the beginning that her relations with the locals, especially with Dr. Stewart, went beyond the bounds of professionalism.”

  Liar! Robin spoke up steadily. “That isn’t true. I hadn’t seen or heard from Dr. Stewart in five years when I came here. I’ve always done my job to the best of my ability. As to why Michael Stewart would aid and abet your Jini—ahh!”

  This time Robin could not contain a gasp of pain as Mulroney’s grip tightened further. With attention shifted from her, Miriam had knelt to scoop the remaining contents of Robin’s knapsack back inside. But at Robin’s indrawn breath, Miriam jumped to her feet, dropping the knapsack to move to Robin’s side.

  “Please let her go. My brother isn’t here, and we don’t know where he is. Nor do we know anything about where this Jini you’re looking for might be. A man did come and ask Michael to tend to some wounded out in the rainforest. And yes, Michael went with them. He’s a doctor. He doesn’t take sides in whom he helps! Please, Robin hasn’t done anything wrong. Just let her go!”

  “Let them go!” The echo came from Ephraim, who burst through the door. Samuel Makuga was close on his heels. As the Congolese doctor’s black eyes narrowed on Robin’s cut, swollen mouth, his usually calm, reserved voice quivered with anger.

  “You would hit a woman, one of your own people? Whatever it is you want, you have seen it is not here. These are not the days of our ancestors when you could come into my home and my clinic only because you are a mzungu. You will leave at once before we report you to the United Nations.”

  As much to Robin’s surprise as to her relief, Trevor Mulroney released his grip and retreated a full two paces as Ephraim swung around in front of the two women. But that only made room for Samuel Makuga to stride forward, spitting out in Swahili, “You dare to give orders here? You think because you have become a docteur that you may speak? You are a worm, a dog!”

  Because Makuga had not shifted his automatic rifle, Robin didn’t take note of his handgun until the Congolese field commander fired. Ephraim stumbled, blood spurting from his right thigh. As he slumped to the concrete floor, Miriam rushed forward with a cry of horror. Snatching up a drying dish towel, she pressed it against the wound. As it turned scarlet, Trevor Mulroney looked at Makuga to inquire mildly, “Was that really necessary?”

  Massive shoulders shrugged indifferently. “The woman is your people; he is mine. Now they have reason to cooperate in telling us where to find the American doctor.”

  “I can’t believe you did that!” Now it was Robin who stepped forward to spread her arms wide in front of the couple on the floor. “Miriam’s telling the truth. Neither of us have any idea where Michael is. Or Jini, either. But I’m the one Jini gave those things to. Not these people. Not Michael. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you. Only please leave them alone.”

  Robin looked straight at Mulroney. “About the other matter, I’m willing to make a deal. In private!”

  He bought it. Robin knew the instant his brilliant-blue eyes narrowed. If I can just get them away from Miriam and Ephraim. Delay long enough to give Alan Birenge more time to do his thing.

  Trevor Mulroney gave an abrupt nod toward Pieter Krueger. “We got what we wanted. Let’s go. It’s not like these people can go anywhere or contact anyone. Not anymore.” A sneering glance swept over the inert communications system. “Leave a watch posted. If Stewart comes sneaking back in, I want him. Meanwhile, have your posse ready to jump as soon as we’ve got usable intel. Duncan, you come with me.”

  Robin hated leaving Miriam kneeling beside her husband’s prone body. But clearing out this invasion so Miriam could send for the clinic’s nursing staff was the best help Robin could offer. As she leaned down to scoop up her now-refilled knapsack, she whispered, “It will be all right! For Michael, for all of us. Don’t lose hope.”

  Miriam’s hands against her husband’s thigh were bloody, her face pale and strained. But her amber eyes blazed unyielding determination as she glanced at Robin. “Never! Nor you. Now go, go!” she added as Trevor Mulroney stepped close.

  Outside, militia uniforms roamed in the drizzle and moonlight
, but refugees and residents alike had been permitted to return to their interrupted slumbers. The Ares Solutions unit piled into the jeep in which they’d evidently made their sneak assault. But Mulroney steered Robin into the executive helicopter now hovering into the clearing. When it touched down moments later on the airstrip, he grabbed her arm again, half-dragging, half-pushing her out of the helicopter and up the steps into his charter jet. The jet’s pilot was resting on a sofa inside, but he exited the cabin at his employer’s jerk of the head. Releasing Robin, Mulroney pulled up the steps to seal the fuselage. Only then did he shove Robin down into a leather seat.

  “Okay, one more time. Where are Jini and your boyfriend? What have you been told? And exactly how much have you passed on to Stewart’s BBC pal in Bunia? Oh yes, we know all about Alan Birenge. Seems his wife’s cousin runs Wamba’s prison system, and your doctor boyfriend had him doing some snooping on our labor force.”

  Robin could almost have smiled. So Mulroney didn’t know yet that Alan Birenge had escaped Wamba’s clutches. Though she’d have sworn she hadn’t let relief touch her expression, Mulroney’s gaze narrowed instantly on her face. “You know differently, don’t you? I just knew you were too confident for the cornered rat you’re supposed to be.”

  His mouth twisted in a sneer as he seated himself across the narrow cabin from Robin. “Nor am I surprised to find you willing to deal, badly as you’ve been needing money. Something about a young namesake with expensive medical needs, do I have it right? Lives in a nice little white house on a corner lot in South Carolina? Port Royal, to be precise. So what kind of a check do I need to cut for you to walk away and forget about anything but helping your sister get that cute redhead back on her feet in time to ride a certain pink bicycle she’s expecting for her fifth birthday?”

  His offer was a far more effective threat than it was a bribe. Icy fingers wrapped themselves around Robin’s heart, squeezed at her stomach. That bike—I just ordered it online. It hasn’t even been delivered yet.

  Trevor Mulroney scrutinized Robin’s expression with satisfaction. “Oh yes, it’s quite something what you can dig up when you’ve got an asset as talented as our young Jensen. Now, can we make a deal?”

  Wiping a damp arm across the sheen of moisture her face had acquired while she was dragged to and from the helicopter, Robin forced herself to relax against the leather seat. There was nothing further to be gained by shading the truth, and Robin had already made up her mind as to her next move.

  The only move she could see that had any hope of ending this without further bloodshed.

  “Look, I really don’t know where Michael and Jini—Joseph, rather—are. Yes, I was with Michael tonight when this Joseph sent a man to request help for some wounded from last night’s raid. And yes, he told us everything. How he used to work for you. The rhenium. What you did to his village. The massacres Samuel Makuga carried out to point fingers at Joseph. And he did ask me to help get that flash drive and photo evidence into the right hands.”

  Robin raised her chin to meet Mulroney’s glare squarely. “Sir, I’ve been a good soldier and a good employee to Ares Solutions. I’ve never blabbed to the press before. But believe me, this time I was glad to make an exception. Anyway, once I was given the intel, I came straight back here, and Michael left with Joseph to try to help those wounded. They could be anywhere by now, so there’s no point in hassling the Taraja people any further since they know even less than I do.

  “As for me, if you think shutting me up will make this all go away, it won’t! For your information, Alan Birenge made it safely out of Bunia hours ago. And I got that intel off to him before you took out the Taraja satellite dish. Including some nice close-ups of you and Makuga together to go with that video of Makuga ordering the massacre of innocent civilians. In any case, it’s one thing to make a Congolese employee or an Ituri Rainforest village disappear. Or even someone like me. You wouldn’t find it so easy to explain away a Doctors Without Borders surgeon or a BBC journalist.”

  Mulroney’s face had become a mask of fury, but he said coolly, “So what was the deal you mentioned? Are you offering to sell out your confederates? Or is this a shakedown you and Stewart have cooked up together with Birenge? I don’t really care. All I want is a figure to ensure the destruction of any remaining files and a binding confidentiality agreement. A hundred thousand American dollars? Five hundred? I can go that high if not in one lump sum. How about a hundred thousand now and a million in installments once the mine is moving ore again?”

  Did he really think Robin was stupid or just plain greedy enough to fall for his offer? That she didn’t know there was no way he could afford to let her walk away with this knowledge inside her head? Aloud, Robin asked, “How do I know you’ll really pay me?”

  Trevor Mulroney raised his eyebrows. “How do I know you’ll really keep quiet?”

  “You don’t! And I won’t,” Robin admitted. “At least not for money. But I’ve got a much better deal in mind. A win-win for everyone. Bottom line, it’s too late to take back those files. One way or another, you’re not going to be able to keep the rhenium a secret any longer. But you can still walk away from this. We all can!”

  “Walk away from this,” Mulroney repeated skeptically. “A win-win. What exactly are you proposing?”

  “Open the gates of the mine and let those people go free. Then make your own preemptive announcement that you’ve discovered the molybdenum concession contains an even more valuable mineral wealth. Make yourself a hero by offering the first reliable source of rhenium to the world. And by bringing peace to the Ituri, because I can guarantee Joseph won’t keep fighting once you’ve let his people go. Once the rhenium’s public news and the people are free, what would Alan Birenge really have left to come back on you? I can promise you I’d have no reason to say anything further.”

  As thoughtfulness replaced skepticism in Mulroney’s expression, Robin eagerly pressed her plea. “Don’t you see? All Joseph wants, all he’s ever been trying to do in attacking the mine, is to free his family and the other villagers. He’s not after the rhenium, at least not anymore. If you’ll just call off this mission, maybe even pay some compensation so his people can rebuild elsewhere, he’s made clear he’ll be willing to let things go. Especially if you let him and his men walk away too. Ensure Wamba leaves them alone in the future. After all, they never were the army everyone’s thought. And now there’s only a handful of them left. But you’ve got to call off any air strike tomorrow in the perimeter zone because they’ve got wounded out there. And Michael, too!”

  Robin did not recognize her blunder until a cruel smile banished introspection from aristocratic features. “So Jini has only a handful of confederates left. That we didn’t know. Which makes things so much easier.”

  The Earth Resources CEO rose to his feet. “This has been most instructional. But if you think I’ve come this far to walk away, you are an extremely naive and foolish young woman. And you have no concept what I can get away with. What I have gotten away with! You imagine you’ve succeeded because your journalist pal managed to flee Bunia. Which might be true if I didn’t know exactly where he is. Once Wamba discovered he’d gone missing, tracking Birenge and his family on a UN flight to Kampala was hardly a challenge. Checking the handful of hotels where a BBC journalist might book was even easier. And since there’s not a major city on this continent where I don’t have useful contacts, a certain police commander should be kicking in Birenge’s hotel room door right about now. Your friend will not be given opportunity to pass on what you gave him.”

  Heading toward the plane’s exit hatch, Trevor Mulroney reached for the handle. “As for giving Jini what he wants, that’s a proposal I do like. Instead of wasting time firebombing stragglers, we let our prey come to us. A Congo Trojan horse. Excellent operational planning, Duncan. Too bad you aren’t playing on my team.”

  Had she ever hated anyone as much as this man? Desperately, Robin tried to amend her blunder. “It wo
n’t work. Joseph will never fall for that! Especially after last night. You think he wouldn’t recognize a trap after the way his father was killed?”

  Trevor Mulroney bared his teeth as his smile turned savage. “On the contrary, thanks to you, he will fall for it. He clearly has faith in you to carry out your word. So when he sees the guards and mining personnel airlifted from the mine, the gates standing wide open, what will he assume but that you’ve accomplished your mission and we’ve fled in advance of the oncoming cavalry?”

  Mulroney was already lifting a hand radio to his mouth. “Krueger? Get your posse to the comm trailer. We’ve got a new plan. And have Makuga send over a team to take custody of the prisoner.”

  Robin’s heart dropped into her toes as the exit hatch unfolded into steps. Trevor Mulroney was as right as he was despicable. Her brilliant proposal had not effected salvation for Michael, Joseph, or his people as she’d hoped.

  Instead she’d just handed their archenemy a blueprint for the perfect trap!

  Hope.

  Joseph had not felt such an emotion for so long he could not at first allow himself to recognize the irrepressible bubbling of lightness pushing at his grief and anger. My father forgave me! He spoke of me as his son when I had lost all right to claim that name, disobeying him, defying him, causing so much pain and death. He loved me enough to seek my salvation.

  And if this was true, what of that other incredible declaration the mzungu doctor named Michael Stewart had asserted? Is there indeed hope that Baba Mungu, our Father in heaven who is the almighty Creator, will also forgive me? That he has not cast me completely aside? If only he could ensure no further bloodshed.

  Joseph recalled the dangers he’d already imposed on his small, loyal band—most recently, the journey to seek medical help. He had chosen the fallen hardwood as rendezvous point for the same reason he’d originally toppled it at that location. A sharp bend in the river that wandered from mine to Taraja brought its banks close enough to the road for easy access with explosives and arms. The foreign soldiers who’d blown up the barge had not found the canoes they’d submerged. Once the mzungus had departed by helicopter, his band’s own survivors had waited only until near nightfall to slip down to the river and haul a pair of canoes to the bank.