‘I’m sorry, what?’
As Sweeney repeats it, Jimmy closes his eyes. He feels a stabbing sensation in his stomach. After a moment he opens his eyes again and says, ‘What else was in it?’
Another deep breath. ‘No hard feelings. Tell Ruth I’m sorry. Then the bit about you.’
‘Fuck.’
‘I know, I know.’ Sweeney exhales loudly. ‘But I was pissed off at him, Jimmy. I barely looked at the damned thing. It made no sense to me. Until the next morning.’ He pauses. ‘I mean, I never thought he’d do something like that, not in a million years. I can see why now, though.’
Jimmy picks up his pint for the first time and demolishes half of it in one go.
He lets it settle.
There is silence for a while.
‘OK,’ Sweeney then says, ‘I can make a few phone calls, media and PR people over there I know, people I’ve worked with. It might help. It might be the difference between…’ He waves a hand in the air. ‘I don’t know. It might afford you some protection. It’ll be a buffer zone. Because you do realise how dangerous this is, Jimmy, potentially? I mean, given what you’ve told me.’
‘Yeah. By definition. It’s what the story is about.’
Sweeney half smiles at this. He leans over and pats Jimmy on the arm. ‘It’s quite a story alright. I’ll be putting my credibility on the line with these people, that’s for sure.’
‘Yeah, Phil, I know.’ And then Jimmy can see it, up close like this, what he suspected before. Sweeney is not well. ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘Right,’ Sweeney says, turning back to his drink. After a moment, he adds, ‘And one last thing. I’m not doing this because Dave Conway asked me to. You know that, right? If I’m doing it for anyone at all, Jimmy, I’m doing it for your old man.’
‘So, how is our friend, the colonel?’
Rundle steps out of the elevator and extends a hand to Jimmy Vaughan. They shake.
‘He’s good, I guess. He talks a lot.’
‘Yeah? What about?’
‘Well, it seems he has a thing about the Chinese. Thinks they work too hard.’
‘Oh.’
‘He prefers our way of doing things.’
‘I see.’ Vaughan holds out an arm and indicates for Rundle to follow him. ‘That sounds promising.’
‘Indeed.’
They cross the entry foyer. Vaughan is slightly stooped and moves slowly.
‘On your own tonight, Jimmy?’
‘Yeah. Meredith’s away, in LA. Mrs R is here, though. She’ll look after us.’
Mrs Richardson is the cook, has been for as long as Rundle can remember.
They enter the dining room. Two places are set at one end of the long mahogany table.
‘Please, Clark, sit down.’
Rundle stands at his place and waits for Vaughan to take his.
‘If you don’t mind,’ Vaughan says, looking at his watch, ‘we’re going to eat straightaway. Otherwise I’ll get cranky. This is what old age is like, Clark. And it turns out you don’t have a choice in the matter.’
Rundle laughs at this. ‘No?’
‘No.’ Vaughan shakes his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’ He puts his hands on the table. ‘So. Tell me everything.’
Rundle does as instructed. He winds up by expressing the view that Kimbela’s hold over the Buenke region appears to be precarious at best. ‘We could lose access to the mine from one day to the next. A single swipe of a machete and the balance of power shifts.’
‘I know, I know, you’ve got all these Mobutu wannabes tearing around the place and it’s just a mess. We had an amazing run with him, though, three decades, at least.’
We?
Rundle leans forward, ‘Look, there’s a good five- to ten-year offload at Buenke. The latest imaging shows the seam is deeper than we thought. But as far as I can see what we’re involved in over there is a smash-and-grab operation, essentially, and it has been from the start.’
‘Of necessity, Clark, you know that.’
‘Yeah, but’ -
Buenke is only the second place on earth where thanaxite has ever been found and BRX has managed to keep that fact a secret for over three years. Even Kimbela thinks that what they’re extracting is coltan. This is because it’s extremely difficult to distinguish between the two without sophisticated testing.
– ‘… the mine is so primitive. They practically extract the shit by hand. That’s not how BRX usually operates. We need to get in there with proper machinery and infrastructure and do this right.’
It’s a conversation they’ve had before.
‘We couldn’t do it without breaking cover, Clark, and then we’d risk losing everything. We draw attention to ourselves like that and Kinshasa, the Ministry, Gécamines, they’d be down on us like a ton of bricks, then the UN, Global Witness, Amnesty, then Beijing, then every fucking mining company in the world. It’d be a new Klondike.’ He pauses. ‘Besides, even if we managed to keep a piece for ourselves, it would take too long. It’d slow things down.’
Rundle looks at him for a moment. ‘Slow what things down, Jimmy?’
He hadn’t intended to go along this route, but he’s getting frustrated. He’s also beginning to accept that he probably has considerably more leverage with Vaughan than he previously imagined. It’s a simple equation. Rundle has access to something Vaughan wants, and seems to want badly, so Rundle should be able to call at least some of the shots.
Vaughan drums his fingers on the table. Then he looks up. ‘Ah, Mrs R.’
Over the next few minutes food arrives and there is a considerable amount of small talk with Mrs Richardson. Vaughan also needs to concentrate when he’s eating and tends to go silent for extended periods. Rundle finds the whole business a little trying.
‘Slow what things down, Jimmy?’ he repeats, at the earliest opportunity.
Rundle has worked closely with Vaughan on the Buenke project since the beginning, he’s been happy to – flattered even, to have the old man place his trust in him like that – but now he’s tired of being shut out, of not knowing the full story. BRX sets the supply chain in motion, but once the thanaxite gets to the processing plants in Europe or the US Rundle has no further involvement with it. What he suspects is that the thanaxite is finding its way to a company, or companies, owned by the Oberon Capital Group, but as to what it’s being used for specifically, he has no idea.
And Vaughan has never been inclined to discuss it.
‘What do you know about robotics, Clark?’
Until now, maybe.
Rundle leans forward. ‘Come again?’
Vaughan puts his fork down and dabs his lips with his napkin. ‘You heard me. Robotics.’
‘Well, I…’
‘It’s the fastest-growing sector in technology today. Development is exponential. I mean, think Moore’s Law, then multiply it by ten.’ He puts his napkin down. He reaches for his glass of water and takes a sip. ‘But as with most new technologies, where do we look to find the best ideas? To the cradle of war, that’s where. Predator drones, Reapers, PackBots, medbots, unmanned this, that and the other. It’s a wonderland of possibilities.’
Rundle had been about to say that he actually does know quite a bit about robotics, given that mining is an area where the technology is making a significant impact – in tunnel crawling, for example – but as is often the case with Vaughan, he’ll throw a question out there and not really expect or want an answer.
It’s annoying but you get used to it.
‘In Afghanistan and Iraq,’ Vaughan continues, ‘back at the start, there were maybe a couple of dozen robotic units in operation, and only on a trial basis. Now there are literally thousands of them being used every single day. It’s quite simple, Clark. Automation is the future of modern warfare.’