Or maybe you 're just flat out paranoid, Herbert told himself.
"Would you like a drink?" Kline asked.
"A Coke would be nice," Herbert said as he wheeled himself in. This was the first time he had been to one of the rooms. He stopped by the bed and watched as Kline went to the minibar. The South African turned the key and removed a can of soda.
"Would you like anything else?" Kline asked.
"Nope," Herbert said. "Just the Coke and an update."
"I promised you dinner," Kline said. "Shall I call for it?"
"I'm okay for now, and we know you just ate," Herbert said.
"Touche," Kline said.
"So," Herbert said. "Why are you here?"
'To talk to Cardinal Zavala here in Washington and Cardinal Murrieta in New York," he replied as he handed the Coke to Herbert. "We need to get more American missionaries into the field in southern Africa."
"Quickly, I assume?" Herbert said.
Kline nodded. Then his mood changed. The bright blue eyes lost a little of their light. The thin mouth tightened. He began to pace the room. "We're facing a potentially explosive situation in Africa, Robert," Kline said slowly. "And I do not mean just the Vatican."
"You're talking about the incident yesterday with Father Bradbury," Herbert said.
"Yes," Kline said. A hint of surprise crossed the poker face. "What do you know about that?"
"You first," Herbert said. He held up the can. "My mouth is dry."
"Fair enough," Kline said knowingly.
Bob Herbert never went first. Having more information than someone else, even an ally, was always a good thing. Today's allies could be tomorrow's adversaries.
"Father Powys Bradbury was abducted by a militia that was led by someone who we believe is Leon Seronga," Kline said. "Do you know that name?"
"Doesn't spark anything," Herbert said.
"Seronga is a former Botswana soldier who helped to organize the Brush Vipers," Kline said. "They were a very effective intelligence unit that helped Botswana break away from Great Britain."
"I know about the Brush Vipers," Herbert said. This was not what he had wanted to hear. If the Brush Vipers were back, in more than just name, it meant that what happened was probably not a small, isolated action. A "Seronga was spotted two weeks ago at the Botswana village of Machaneng," Kline went on. "He was attending a rally held by a religious leader named Dhamballa."
"Is that his real name?" Herbert asked as he unfolded his computer. "I mean is that a surname or a tribal name or an honorary title?"
"It's a variant spelling of the name of a god of the Vodun faith," Kline said. "We do not know more than that. And we do not have direct access to him. Nor is his image in our file."
"At least, not under that name," Herbert said.
"Correct."
"But this Dhamballa is the reason you had someone watching the rally," Herbert said.
"Yes," Kline admitted.
Herbert asked Kline for the spelling of the name. He made a note of it in a new computer file.
"We routinely watch all religious movements in Africa," Kline added. "It's part of the apostolic tool kit."
"Collecting intel about rivals," Herbert said.
"You never really know who your rivals are-"
"Or who they might be fronting for," Herbert said. Political activism often hid behind a new religious idea. That made it easier to sell to the masses.
"Exactly," Kline agreed. "We take digital pictures of events like these and load them into a master file. We like to know whether they originate at a grassroots level or elsewhere. Real religious movements tend to peak at a certain point and return to the underground. Sects concealing a political agenda tend to be well financed, often from abroad. They don't usually fade away."
"Making them more of a threat," Herbert pointed out.
"Yes, but not just to the Church's goals," Kline said. "They're a danger to the political stability of the continent. We take a very real interest in the lives, health, and well-being of the people to whom we minister. This is not just about the state of their immortal souls."
"I understand," Herbert assured him.
"After we ID'ed Seronga, we went back and checked photographs from previous Dhamballa rallies," Kline went on.
"Were these large rallies or small ones?" Herbert interrupted.
"Small at first, just about a dozen people at the mine," Kline said. "Then they began to grow as family members attended. He began holding them in village squares and in fields."
"Talking about?"
"The same things he discussed in the mines," Kline said.
"Gotcha," Herbert told him. "Sorry to interrupt. You were saying about Leon Seronga-?"
"That he was not the only member of the former Brush Vipers to have been present," Kline said.
"I see," Herbert said. "Which is really why you came to Washington. If this is the start of a new political action in southern Africa, you want Americans to help contain it."
"Let's just say I'd like you to participate in the process of containment," Kline said. "That can take many forms, though right now I need intelligence."
Kline seemed somewhat embarrassed by that. He should not have been. Herbert welcomed honesty. Everyone wanted America to become involved in international scuffles. The United States gave backbone to friends and took the heat from enemies.
"Edgar, do you have any idea why Father Bradbury was targeted?" Herbert asked.
"Not really," Kline said. "As I said, we lack information."
"Was there something special about his ministry?" Herbert asked.
"Father Bradbury presided over-forgive me. I mean, he presides over the largest number of deacon missionaries in the nation," Kline said. He shook his head and tightened his lips. "I can't believe I said that."
"It's a natural mistake," Herbert said. "I've probably done it a million times without being smart enough to catch it." He paused. "Unless you know something you're not saying."
"No," Kline said. "If we thought something else had happened, I would tell you."
"Sure," Herbert said. "Okay, then. Back to the stift-presiding Father Bradbury. Who has the next-largest number of deacon missionaries?"
"There are ten other parish priests, each with three or four deacon missionaries," Kline said. "They are all being watched."
"By?"
"Local Botswana constables and by undercover elements of the Botswana military," Kline said.
"Good," Herbert said. "And I assume no one at the Vatican has received a ransom demand?"
Kline shook his head.
"That means the kidnappers need him," Herbert said. "If kidnappers don't want money, they want the victim to do something for them. To sign a document, make a radio or TV broadcast, renounce a policy or idea. They may even want his dead body to scare converts or other priests. Do you have any idea where they've taken Father Bradbury?"
"No," Kline said. "And it wasn't for lack of trying. Within one hour, the Moremi Wildlife rangers were looking for the militia on the ground. The military was up in two hours doing an aerial search. They didn't find anything. Unfortunately, there's a lot of ground to cover. The kidnappers could have dispersed, hidden, or disguised themselves as a safari group. There are hundreds of those in the area at any given time."
"Did anyone talk to truck drivers, check with amateur radio operators?" Herbert asked.
"Both," Kline said. "The police are still talking to CB operators. It was silent running all the way. This was a wellplanned operation, but we have no idea to what end." The VSO officer stopped pacing and regarded Herbert. "That's everything I know."
"Pretty much in line with other neopolitical grab-and-runs I've encountered," Herbert said.
"I agree," Kline said. "This is more like the act of rebels than religious acolytes."