‘But — but holy shit, Eddie! He was tied up! You murdered him!’
‘And how many people’s he murdered?’ he demanded. ‘Hundreds, probably thousands if you count all the people he ordered killed. And he would have gone on to kill a load more.’
‘That — that’s not the point!’ she stammered. ‘We captured him, he should’ve gone on trial—’
‘You see any judges around here?’ Eddie snapped. ‘Any cops? You heard what he said — the only law he follows is the law of the fucking jungle. Well, I played by his law. And in case you weren’t listening, he threatened to rape and kill our daughter. Fuck him!’
Nina had felt the same horror and rage as her husband when Mukobo made his threat, her natural instinct as a parent being to protect her child by any means — but was still unwilling to justify a cold-blooded execution. ‘If he’d been about to hurt Macy for real, I’d have blown the bastard away myself. But he wasn’t, he was tied to a goddamn chair on a different continent! Yes, it was a threat, but it was an empty one!’
‘You think? Brice told him where we live! And Mukobo was the kind of sadistic fucking maniac who’d follow up on a threat like that. The aid workers he murdered, the ones he was going to the States to be put on trial for killing — you know why he went after them? Because their leader called him a “dangerous man” in a newspaper interview. That was all, but it was enough. And if I’d known who he was when I first met him, I could have saved their lives.’ He flicked the empty cylinder, sending it spinning. ‘I could have saved hundreds of lives… but I didn’t.’
‘That wasn’t your fault,’ she insisted. ‘You can’t blame yourself for that!’
‘Yeah, I can, and I have. But he won’t be killing anyone else now.’ He stared down at the slumped figure. ‘Fourteen years late, but I stopped him. And if you think I did the wrong thing, if that’s changed the way you look at me… then I’ll just have to live with it, because I don’t regret it.’ He faced Nina again. ‘I did it to save Macy, and you. And everyone else in this place. And fuck knows how many more people in the rest of the country, because without Mukobo, this revolution’ll go nowhere. He was the one holding it together. So by killing him, I’ve just stopped a civil war.’
‘Maybe you have,’ said Nina. ‘And maybe you did do the right thing—’
‘There’s no maybe about it.’
‘—but we can debate that later.’
‘And I’m sure we will,’ he said sardonically. ‘But I’m not going to apologise for it. The world’s better off with this bastard dead.’
Her shock was replaced by anger and exasperation. ‘That might be true. But you just shot our only bargaining chip! Without Mukobo as a hostage, there’s nothing to stop the militia from killing us.’
Eddie gestured towards the lead casket. ‘There’s that.’
‘Yes, if we want to risk bringing the rest of the palace down on top of us. Look, Eddie, I–I understand why you did what you did to Mukobo. But with him dead, our situation’s just got worse, because now there’s no way out of here. What are we going to do?’
Any answer the Yorkshireman might have had remained unspoken as Ziff shouted from outside. ‘Nina! Eddie! Are you okay?’
Nina hurried to meet him, not wanting anyone else to see the grisly scene. ‘We’re okay, we’re fine,’ she assured the Israeli as he scuttled down the last flight of steps. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
‘We heard shots!’ shouted Howie from a bridge higher up. ‘We thought Mukobo’d escaped!’
‘He’s not going anywhere,’ Eddie replied as he emerged. ‘Go back up. Fortune and Paris might need your help if the militia make any moves.’
The young man hesitated, then started back up the chasm. Ziff was less easily persuaded, though. ‘Is there any chance you could take Mukobo somewhere else so I can get back to translating the inscriptions?’ he asked hopefully.
Eddie shook his head. ‘Definitely best if he stays put for now.’
Ziff’s eyes went to the revolver in his hand, its empty cylinder still open. ‘I’m… getting the feeling there’s something I should know about.’
‘Everything’s fine, really!’ said Nina with forced brightness. ‘You could always explore the other buildings instead?’
Ziff gave the couple a look of concerned suspicion, but before he could question them further another voice echoed down the rift. ‘Eddie!’ cried Paris. Even at the top of his lungs, his words were barely audible by the time they reached the mine. ‘We have a situation!’
The older archaeologist looked up in alarm. ‘The militia — are they attacking?’
‘Paris wouldn’t have left Fortune to face ’em on his own,’ said Eddie, taking out a box of Magnum rounds he had confiscated from the warlord earlier and reloading the golden gun. ‘It’s something else. We need to get back up there.’
He and Nina ran for the stairs. ‘What about Mukobo?’ Ziff asked.
‘Like I said, he’s not going anywhere. Come on.’ With the confused Israeli trailing them, they began a hurried trek back to ground level.
22
Even hurrying, it took several minutes to make the ascent. There had been no gunfire, so the Insekt Posse hadn’t attempted an assault, but the documentary crew’s concerned expressions told them that something was going on.
‘Where’s Paris?’ said Eddie. ‘And Howie?’
‘They’re with Fortune, at the entrance,’ Fisher told him.
‘So what’s happening?’ asked Nina, breathless.
Rivero raised his camera to record her and Eddie as they headed for the passage. ‘Probably easiest if you see for yourself.’
‘This isn’t a movie,’ she sniped. ‘You don’t have to keep things from us for dramatic tension!’
Fortune and Paris were maintaining their watch over the ruins, Howie nervously holding the third Kalashnikov behind them. ‘What’ve we got?’ Eddie asked.
‘A visitor,’ the tall Congolese replied. ‘Your friend Mr Brice.’
‘And you haven’t shot the fucker?’
‘He has a white flag,’ Paris clarified.
‘So? He can use it as a bandage.’ The Yorkshireman peered into the daylight. There was indeed a white flag, a piece of material on a branch being waved from behind a broken wall.
Nina looked cautiously past her husband. ‘Somehow, I don’t think he’s here to surrender.’
‘Flag of truce,’ Eddie rumbled. ‘He wants to talk. It’s definitely him?’ he asked the defenders.
‘Yes. He came alone,’ Fortune confirmed.
‘Great, so the others could be anywhere…’ With their position set back inside the palace’s thick wall, there was no way to see if anyone was stealthily creeping up from either side — unless the defenders exposed themselves to fire from the jungle. ‘All right, better see what he wants.’ He took the AK from Howie. ‘Brice! I’m here!’
The other Englishman cautiously raised his head. ‘About time, Chase. I just want to talk to you.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘I meant talk, not shout. I’d rather do this face to face. Preferably not with a gun pointed at me.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ said Eddie, who had fixed the rifle’s sights unwaveringly upon the ex-MI6 officer. ‘Convince me. And start by convincing me not to blow your head off.’
‘I’m offering a deal,’ Brice replied. ‘One that will get all of you out of here safely. But it’s an offer I can only make to you, Chase — because you’re the only person there who’ll understand why I’m making it.’
The shouted exchange had drawn the attention of those in the first chamber, Fisher leading them to the entrance to hear more. ‘Wait, now you’re in charge of negotiations?’ the director asked Eddie. ‘You’re not even an official part of the team!’