Aideen turned back to him. "What?"
"They broke into the shack where he was staying," Seronga said. "We cornered them with tear gas and attempted to apprehend them. We wanted to take them alive. If the Spaniards had surrendered, no one would have been hurt. They would have been held until it was feasible to set them free. Instead, they tried to shoot their way out."
"You're saying the Spaniards went ahead with a rescue attempt, even after we asked them to fall back?" she asked.
Seronga nodded.
"I can't believe that," she said.
"If you wish, you can speak to Father Bradbury yourself. He will tell you that he was removed and another was put in his place." Seronga held the radio toward her.
"I wouldn't know if it were really Father Bradbury or not," she said.
"I anticipated that," Seronga said. He took a scrap of paper from his shirt pocket. "I had my men provide me with the serial numbers of the Star 30PK pistols carried by the Spanish soldiers. You can relay those to your superiors. Have them check the numbers against the weapons that were issued to the soldiers. You will see I am telling the truth."
Aideen accepted the paper. "I will. It still won't prove your soldiers didn't hunt the men down."
"What did we have to gain?" Seronga asked. "We already had the priest. We did not need more hostages. We certainly did not need another reason for the Botswana military to move against us."
"I don't know about that," Aideen said. "Maybe you and your leader are developing martyr complexes."
"That is far from the case," Seronga replied. "For me, it's too late in life. And for Dhamballa, it is too early. He's only just begun his ministry. Maybe that is why I'm being so protective. He does not yet have the kind of following that will afford him protection from retribution."
"You might have told us all of this," Aideen said. "You could have taken us into your confidence."
"Sometimes people listen better after a thing is done," Seronga told her. "What is most important now is not what happened. What matters is what happens next. Dhamballa has left the swamp. That will leave the air patrol searching, but not for very long."
"We must convince them you still have the priest and will not harm him," Aideen said. "Will you turn him over, though?"
"That is for Dhamballa to say," Seronga told her. "But if you can hold them off, I will do as I promised. I will find a peaceable solution to this crisis. But neither the Botswana military nor the Spanish must attack my people."
"You were a soldier. Don't you know any people in the military?" Aideen asked.
"Some," he admitted.
"Can't you talk to them?"
Seronga smiled sadly. "Dhamballa represents change. Even if I could talk to my old friends, they stand to lose a great deal under a new government. They are not idealists. They are policemen."
"I understand," Aideen said.
Seronga apologized again for having acted without consulting Aideen. Then he had Finn catch up to the Jeep. Aideen rejoined her team. The two vehicles continued toward the rendezvous point.
The Brush Viper did not know if a nonviolent resolution were possible. The Botswanans clearly had an agenda. Perhaps the Vatican did as well. That was the elimination of possible insurgents.
There was only one way they could succeed, and Seronga would not allow that to happen.
For that, he would gladly give up his life. Not as a martyr, as Aideen had suggested, but as what he had always been: a soldier.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Paul Hood, Bob Herbert, and Mike Rodgers were still in Hood's office, waiting for word from the field. Rodgers had spent the time studying computer files on the Botswana military. In case his people needed the information, Rodgers wanted to know the range, weapons configuration, and maneuvering capabilities of the helicopters. He also wanted to know how many men were on board each chopper. The answers were not encouraging. The Air Wing of the Botswana Defense Forces flew French Aerospatiale AS 332 Super Puma helicopters. They carried up to twenty-five troops each and could be configured to carry a variety of weapons. The choppers had a range of four hundred miles. That was enough to reach the swamp and then set out on a new search. If the squadron was traveling with a tanker ship, they could set off in another direction almost immediately.
Hood was on the phone with the president's national security adviser. Now that Americans were in a potential war zone, it was time to brief the White House.
"Where are the helicopters now?" Hood asked after giving the president an overview of the situation.
Herbert was looking at a radar feed into his wheelchair cornputer. "The choppers are holding their position at the edge of the swamp," he replied. "I'm guessing they were surprised by Dhamballa's change of plans."
"Mike, does that mean they'll have to turn back?" Hood asked.
"Not necessarily," Rodgers replied. ^
The general told him about the strengths and limitations of the aircraft the Botswanans were using. Hood passed the information to the president. Hood told the commander in chief he would report back as soon as he had any news. Then he hung up and exhaled loudly.
"How did he take it?" Herbert asked.
"He does not want any of our people firing a shot," Hood said. "If for some reason they get snagged by the Botswanans, they're to go quietly."
"Go quietly and stay in prison so the Botswanans don't lose face," Herbert said. "Then, if we're lucky, Gaborone will believe they were tourists who got off track somehow."
"That's pretty much it," Hood said.
"Are you going to tell Aideen that?" Rodgers asked.
"What would you do?" Hood asked. "It's your operation."
"I'd tell them to do whatever is necessary to survive and exit," Rodgers replied. "I certainly wouldn't leave them defenseless."
"I agree," Hood said. "Aideen won't use violence unless it's absolutely necessary. And if that becomes necessary, the U. S. will have to deal with whatever happens."
"We all agree," Herbert said. " 'Out of chaos does come order.' "
"Or worse chaos," Rodgers said. "That's something metzsche and I never agreed on."
Herbert's mouth twisted, and he pondered that as Darrell McCaskey joined them.
"What's new on the Japanese front?" Hood asked him.
"Something that may or may not have any bearing on what's going on in Botswana," McCaskey said.
McCaskey appeared to have regained some of the old Gman steel. Rodgers was glad to see it.
"A group of Japanese tourists was stopped at customs in Gaborone three days ago," McCaskey said. "They were bringing all kinds of electronics into the country. The Botswanans let them in. According to the hotel records, two of the tourists never checked in. I tried to run them down but could not find them. However, two Japanese tourists did show up, renting a car in Maun. There was no record of those two having entered the country."
"You think they're the same people?" Hood asked.
"The timing works if they took the afternoon bus from Gaborone to Maun," McCaskey said.
McCaskey fell silent as Rodgers's phone beeped. The general answered immediately.
"Yes?" Rodgers said.
"It's Aideen," said the caller. "Two Spanish soldiers tried to rescue someone they thought was Father Bradbury. They were killed."
"Oh Jesus," Rodgers said.
The other men looked at him.
"The Vodunists lost two men," Aideen added. "The priest is still with Dhamballa."
"When did this happen?" Rodgers asked.
He noticed a crack in McCaskey's tough expression. Rodgers felt bad for him, but he could explain that nothing had happened to his wife. Not yet.