‘All right. How many in your team?’
‘Me, a four-person film crew, and another archaeologist. An Israeli, David Ziff.’
‘And where are you going?’
‘I’ll send you the city’s GPS coordinates, but the nearest major town is a place called Butembo. It’s on the eastern side of—’
‘I know where Butembo is,’ he interrupted. ‘Worked over the border from it in Uganda and Rwanda back in the day.’
‘Anyway, that’s the nearest place with an airport. I think it should take two days to reach the city from there; a day overland to a village called Nakola, and then by boat upriver. Once we’re there, we explore, film what we find, then head back. Do you think you’ll be able to find people to help us?’
Eddie considered the matter. ‘I can probably get TD – Tamara Defendé, you remember her?’
‘Of course.’
‘She’s worked in DR Congo before, I can get her to fly you and your team in. People on the ground, though? I know some good blokes, but no idea if any of ’em are available right now. I’d have to check.’
‘If you could, that would be fantastic. Thank you.’ She hesitated. ‘What’s the second thing you wanted?’
‘The second,’ said Eddie, ‘is that you can tell our lass yourself that she won’t see you for an extra two weeks! I’m not dropping that one on her.’
‘Oh. Yeah. I should, shouldn’t I?’
‘You really, really should. Macy?’ he called. ‘Your mum wants to talk to you.’
Macy hurried in and eagerly took his phone. ‘Mommy? Hi!’
Eddie leaned in the doorway, turning away so she wouldn’t see his dark expression. It was clearly visible to his father, though. ‘Something up?’ asked Larry.
‘You could say that. Nina’s decided that not only is she going to be filming for another couple of weeks, but she’s going to the middle of the bloody African jungle.’
Larry shook his head in disapproval. ‘Why didn’t you just tell her that’s unacceptable and not let her go?’
Eddie snorted. ‘You’ve met my wife, haven’t you? Red hair, green eyes, about five-five, makes the average mule look as stubborn as an easily persuaded jellyfish?’
‘Then you haven’t tried hard enough. I wouldn’t just give in to something like that.’
‘Of course you wouldn’t, dear,’ said Julie, with exaggerated sweetness. ‘Now go and play with your toy trains.’
‘They’re scale models, not— Ah, very funny.’
Eddie smiled, but then heard a sound of dismay. He turned back to Macy. ‘Are you okay, love?’
She looked stricken. ‘Mommy said she’s not coming back!’
‘I don’t think that’s really what she said, is it?’ He gently took the phone from her. ‘Is it?’ he asked his wife.
‘Of course it’s not!’ cried Nina, almost as upset as her daughter. ‘I just said I wouldn’t be home for another two weeks.’
‘She’s five, love. To her, that’s like three thousand years!’ He hugged Macy, then switched the phone to speaker. ‘Mummy is coming back, don’t worry.’
‘I absolutely will, honey,’ Nina promised. ‘I miss you so much, and I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll be home as soon as I can.’
Eddie decided not to remind her that could be the day after tomorrow if she chose; the last thing he wanted Macy to witness was a parental argument. Instead, he said: ‘We’ll talk to Mummy again later, okay? I need to make some phone calls for her. Is that all right?’ Macy nodded, but did not look happy. ‘Nina, I’ll see who’s around in that neck of the woods. But first, I need to cheer up our little girl!’
‘I’m so sorry, Macy,’ said his wife. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be back with you real soon, I promise. I love you. Bye-bye.’
‘Bye, Mommy,’ Macy said, with a reluctant pout.
Eddie added his own farewells, then disconnected. ‘Okay, love. Daddy’s got to ring some people.’
It took a few hours to get answers from his contacts, and they were mostly not what he had hoped for.
‘So what did your friends say?’ Nina asked when he called her back. ‘Did you find anyone who can provide security?’
‘I did,’ he replied, ‘but literally only one. Everyone else was either already on a job, or out of contact. And I called everyone I know in central Africa. Flight’s not a problem, TD said she can take you. But as far as security goes, the only guy who’s free is a mate of mine, Fortune Bemba.’
‘He’s the only person you could get?’
‘He’s from DRC, so he knows the country, and he’s got plenty of local contacts. He said he can round up some help. The thing is, I don’t know ’em. I trust Fortune, but even though he says he’ll vouch for anyone he brings aboard, I still want to check ’em out for myself. You made our little girl a promise that you’d be back. And I want to be absolutely sure it’s going to be kept.’
Uncertainty entered her voice. ‘Wait, so you’re saying . . . you want to meet this Fortune’s associates in person? You want to go to the Congo yourself?’
‘There’s no “want” about it. It’s definitely not high on my holiday list! But I need to be sure that whoever else is helping out is up to the job. And I want to check out the situation on the ground, an’ all. The news doesn’t pay much attention to countries like that unless something really major happens, but just because it doesn’t make headlines doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.’
‘You’re not suggesting that you bring Macy, are you?’
‘Course I’m bloody not! No, she can stay here, either with my dad and Julie or with Lizzie. I’ll fly into Butembo with you, meet Fortune and check out his mates, then come back. If I time the flights right I should be able to do the round trip in three days.’
‘That’s a long time to leave Macy with someone else, even if they are family.’
‘We did it before, with the Midas Cave. And then North Korea.’
‘And in hindsight I wish we hadn’t. I know she’s sometimes had a nanny at home, but one or both of us has always been there if she needed us. I don’t think you should come.’
‘Well, I don’t think you should go, but hey. Look, Nina,’ he went on, wanting to forestall the approaching argument, ‘I just want to be sure you’ll be safe. Okay? Once I know you’ve got reliable people watching out for you, I’ll come back to Macy and let you get on with it. But there’s no way I’m going to let you go out there without knowing what’s what.’
‘There isn’t, is there?’ she said, terse.
‘You’re not the only one who can be stubborn. God, I feel sorry for whoever marries Macy. She’s going to be as bloody-minded as both of us combined.’
Her tone lightened. ‘Afraid so. Have you told Macy yet?’
‘No. And I haven’t asked my dad or Lizzie if they can take her either. This should be fun.’
‘Well, I already upset Macy today, so I think it should be your turn.’
‘Gee, thanks!’ They both laughed. ‘Okay, love. I’d better go and do it, and then wipe up all the tears – probably from Dad as well as Macy!’
‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you.’ He went to find his daughter.
She was playing in the living room with Julie, Larry stretched out in a recliner reading the news on his phone. ‘That’s the face of someone with bad news,’ he said as his son entered.
Eddie crouched beside Macy. ‘Hey, love. I need to tell you something very important.’
She sat up. ‘What is it?’
‘You know how Mummy—’
‘Mommy.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you remember she’s going to be away for a bit longer?’ She nodded. ‘Well, Daddy needs to make sure that everything’s all right for her. So that means I’ll have to go away too. Just for a little w
hile, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he quickly added, seeing her sudden worry.
‘Is Mommy going to be okay?’
‘Yeah, of course she will! I’m going to talk to some of my friends in Africa who’ll—’
Concern was instantly replaced by amazement. ‘You’re going to Africa? That’s where they have elephants, and lions! Can I come?’
‘Sorry, love, I’m afraid not.’ She looked disappointed. ‘I’ll bring you back a toy elephant or lion, though. How about that?’ She gave him a begrudging nod.
‘Wait,’ said Julie, confused. ‘If you’re going to Africa, who’s going to look after Macy?’
Eddie put on his broadest smile. ‘That’s something I wanted to talk to you two about . . .’
Larry popped upright. ‘Wait, what?’
‘I’ll only be gone a couple of days.’
‘You want to leave your daughter with us for two days?’
‘Well, more like three.’
Julie looked appalled, but at her husband rather than her stepson. ‘Larry! She’s your granddaughter! Of course we’ll look after her, Eddie. We’d love to. Wouldn’t we, Larry?’
Larry was far from thrilled. ‘But I was going to play golf with Trevor and Michael and the boys this week.’
‘Oh, you and your golf. The course’ll still be there next week, but how often do we see Macy? You don’t mind staying with us, do you, Macy?’
‘Can I stay?’ Macy asked, directing the question at her grandfather. ‘We can go and see the magic horses again!’
‘I think Macy’s fine with it,’ said Eddie, amused by Larry’s attempt to mask his dismay. ‘I guess that settles it, then.’
‘It does,’ Julie added firmly. Larry gave her a thin smile, before treating Macy to a more genuine one.
Eddie turned back to his daughter. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. Is that okay?’
Her enthusiasm had already faded. ‘I . . . think so. Are you going right now?’
‘No, we’ll do some fun stuff together first. Us, and Julie, and your grandad. Whether he wants to or not.’ That drew a giggle from Julie and a resigned sigh from Larry.
‘And you and Mommy are coming back soon?’
‘Definitely,’ Eddie assured her. ‘That’s why I’m going to Africa. To make sure of it.’
7
The Democratic
Republic of Congo
It was one of the world’s more mean-spirited ironies, Nina mused as she gazed at the landscape below, that one of the countries richest in natural resources was also one of the poorest financially. The Democratic Republic of Congo held huge reserves of rare and valuable minerals, but the fortunes made from extracting them were far from equitably distributed amongst its people – if they went to its people at all. Almost a century of rapacious exploitation under the auspices first of King Leopold the Second of Belgium, then the brutal colonial administration of the Belgian state itself, had been followed by an independence marked by violence and corruption to an extent that the country’s very name – at the time, Zaire – became international shorthand for shameless embezzlement.
The situation had improved over time, but only in relative terms. The modern DR Congo was still plagued by sectarian strife, wars both civil and national, drug smuggling and sex trafficking – and the old standbys of poverty, disease and graft. The secessionist movement in the east was merely the latest variety of civil unrest bringing misery to ordinary citizens.
And she was flying right into the middle of it.
Butembo, she had learned, was a hotspot for rebel activity. That was worrying enough in itself, but she was leading others into a dangerous region. Fisher and the rest of his team were in the cramped seats behind her, Ziff reading on his own at the cabin’s rear. Whatever the director had insisted in Jerusalem, Nina couldn’t help but consider herself responsible for them. Now that she was actually in the country, her earlier enthusiasm was tempered by concern: maybe too little, too late.
But she knew Eddie would do everything he could to ensure the group’s safety. Her husband sat beside her, unshaven and rumpled in his black leather jacket. ‘You okay?’ she asked as he rubbed his eyes.
‘Yeah, just knackered,’ he said. ‘I had a much longer journey here than you did.’ They had met in the Ugandan capital of Kampala: an eight-hour flight from Jerusalem, considerably more from London.
‘Well, at least there’s not much more of it left.’ She leaned forward to address the pilot, a Botswanan woman in a baseball hat. ‘Hey, TD. How long till we land?’
Tamara Defendé, known to close friends by her initials, glanced back. ‘About twenty minutes.’ Her trade as a bush pilot, roving over the vast continent, had been successful enough for her now to own three aircraft, but like most fliers she preferred to keep her hands on a set of controls rather than stay behind a desk. ‘Eddie, you still want to fly back to Kampala tomorrow morning, yes?’
‘Yeah,’ the Englishman replied. ‘My flight back isn’t until the afternoon. That’ll give me a chance to meet Fortune and whoever else he’s rounded up, check ’em out, and hopefully get a night’s sleep as well.’
‘You really didn’t need to come all the way out here,’ Nina told him. ‘I’m sure that if your buddy’s vouched for these people, they’re fine.’
‘I just want to be sure,’ Eddie insisted. ‘Besides, it’s a bit late to change my mind now!’
The elderly Antonov biplane flew on. The scenery was beautiful, verdant green over mineral-rich red soil, but the near-absence of vehicle traffic on the few weaving dirt roads was a clear sign of poverty even from several thousand feet up.
‘That’s Butembo,’ Tamara said at last. Nina and Eddie looked ahead to see a brown sprawl across the surrounding jade. It was a large settlement, its population almost seven hundred thousand according to Nina’s research, but she hesitated to qualify it with the honorific of being a city. It was obvious even from miles away that almost all the red-roofed houses were small, with very few buildings having more than a single storey.
Their pilot had an increasingly argumentative exchange with the control tower before winning some concession from the controller, then she lined the plane up with the runway and put it into final descent. ‘What was that about?’ asked Eddie.
‘They wanted me to circle,’ she replied. ‘They’re waiting for some VIP’s helicopter. I told them I’m low on fuel, but if they want me to put down on the main street, I can. They got my point.’
‘I’m glad,’ said Nina, sharing a smile with her husband.
The landing on Rughenda airfield’s dirt runway was bumpy, but the Antonov quickly slowed to taxi speed and pulled up near the modest terminal building. ‘Thanks, Tamara,’ said Nina as the Botswanan shut down the engines.
Eddie looked through a porthole. ‘There’s Fortune.’ Nina saw a tall, broad-shouldered black man in a sleek three-piece suit waiting outside the terminal. A shorter, scruffier man with a wild frizz of hair stood beside him. ‘That must be his mate.’
‘Is he the guy you wanted to check out?’
‘Yeah. I’d hoped he’d have more people, though.’
She laughed a little. ‘How much security did you think we’d need?’
His expression displayed no humour. ‘More than that.’
The passengers disembarked. The air outside was not as hot as Nina had expected, about seventy Fahrenheit, but it was uncomfortably humid. Fisher and the rest of the film crew retrieved their equipment while Eddie went to meet the welcoming committee. ‘Fortune!’ he called.
‘Eddie, my man!’ the tall man boomed in reply. French was the country’s official language, and his English was rich with its almost musical cadences. ‘Good to see you again!’
‘You too, mate.’ The two men embraced, the African more than a head taller than the Yorkshireman. ‘Nina, this is Fortune Bemb
a. We go back a long way. Fortune, this is my wife, Nina Wilde.’
‘The famous explorer, yes,’ said Fortune as she joined her husband. He took her hand and kissed it, then gave her a broad smile that revealed two gold teeth in his otherwise perfect white set. ‘An honour to meet you! Eddie tells me you are looking for something in the jungle. An ancient city?’
‘That’s what we’re hoping for, yes,’ she replied. ‘You’re Congolese, aren’t you?’ He nodded. ‘Are there any legends of anything like that?’
‘There are many legends about the jungle, including lost cities. I have never heard that any were true, though.’
‘Me neither,’ said the other man. He seemed about to burst with pent-up nervous energy, the words tumbling from his mouth. ‘But I’m from Matadi, all the way out west, so jungle stories? Not so much my thing.’ He had much less of a French inflection than Fortune, sounding almost American – or rather, Nina guessed, trying to sound that way, having picked up the accent from movies and TV.
‘This is Paris Mbolo,’ said Fortune, introducing him. ‘He is very reliable, Eddie, very capable – I trust him completely. Even if,’ a sniff, ‘he has no dress sense at all.’
Paris gave his impeccably dressed partner a sarcastic look. ‘Ha ha. Fuck you. Oh! Excusez-moi,’ he said to Nina, almost embarrassed.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said, amused. ‘I’m married to Eddie – I hear much worse all the time!’
Eddie gave Paris a critical look. ‘Fortune said you were in the Congolese army before going independent?’
He nodded. ‘Six years, then two with the blue helmets’ – the United Nations peacekeeping force that had worked to suppress rebel groups operating across the border – ‘before I realised I’d get more money and less hatred in plain clothes.’
‘If you can call those clothes,’ said Fortune disdainfully.
Paris held back another obscenity for Nina’s sake. ‘So yes, Mr Chase – Eddie? Can I call you Eddie? Eddie, I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in tough situations, and I know the people. I’ll take care of your wife and her friends.’