“Sam Reilly,” he replied, studying the stranger. Definitely the most senior of the three men he’d seen. He spoke English without an accent. His face showed several scars. At least three obviously missing teeth and those that were still in place were rotten. Unlike the other two mercenaries with him, who carried AK-47s, this one wore a sidearm. Confident in his men, the weapon had remained in its holster. Sam uncrossed his arms. “I’m searching for the hidden treasures of the ancient Garamantes.”
The commander laughed. It was loud and boisterous and stopped as suddenly as it had commenced. “I am General Gabe Ngige. Did you have any luck?”
Sam took a gentle breath in as he heard the name. The coincidence was staggering. But what was he doing in the Sahara, searching for an old book? “I beg your pardon, what did you want to know?”
“Did you find the ancient city of gold?” General Ngige asked. “The Garamante civilization lost to centuries of greed, myth and legends.”
Sam grinned. “You don’t believe it exists, do you?”
“No. And I don’t believe you were searching for it, Mr. Reilly.” Ngige looked at the two Uzis next to the camels. “So, do you always go armed when you’re looking for treasure?”
“Yeah, well you never know what sort of people you might run into in a big desert like this. Not all of them are likely to be as friendly as you.”
“You know what I think?” The general crossed his arms.
“What?” Sam asked, feigning indifference while the other two men in camouflaged desert uniforms searched him for any weapons.
Ngige stared at him. His face hard and intense. “I think you’re here with the girl. I think you were searching for the book of Nostradamus.”
“That’s what this is about?” Sam asked. “You’re after an old book of lies by Michel Nostradamus? What the hell do you expect to find?”
“Answers! I expect to find answers!”
“To what?”
“To the future, of course!” General Ngige smiled cruelly. “I think it has already cleared up your future. You will give me the book now or I will do things to you that will make you wish your death could come sooner. So, tell me, where did you hide the book of Nostradamus.”
Sam took stock of his situation. There were three guys. He knew who one of them was. General Ngige was probably the most dangerous person in the world right now. His recently successful coup to overthrow the democratically elected President of the Democratic Republic of Congo, lead to an unheard of rise to power. Not since Fidel Castro overthrew Fulgencio Batista in 1959 to become the new dictator of Cuba, had one man wielded so much power in such a short space of time. Whoever was backing him, must have known something the rest of the world hadn’t, because one thing was certain — General Ngige was being well funded.
He gritted his teeth. That just left the other two men. Mercenaries, he guessed. Unlikely to be vigilantes, bandits or rebels — otherwise he’d already be dead. Instead, they were disciplined. Each of them had waited for an order from their commander before moving. And the commander had waited to interrogate him — find out who he was and why he was there. Both of the men were armed with AK-47s.
Only the general wore a sidearm. A Berretta M9, semiautomatic. Sam knew the weapon well. He’d been issued one as an Officer in the Corps. It took a casing containing 9×9mm Parabellum, the most common military handgun cartridge in the world. The weapon was also known for its reliability. It boasted the ability to fire 35000 rounds before having a misfire. If he lived long enough to get the chance to fire the weapon, Sam was pleased to know that the odds were it would work.
Sam smiled. “All right. I’ll show you where she hid it. But I’d like a smoke first.”
“No cigarette. Haven’t you heard they are bad for your health?” The general laughed at his own joke.
“I guess I won’t be alive long enough to worry about emphysema!” Sam joined in the laughter at his expense. “Seriously, you’re going to kill me and you won’t give me a smoke?”
The mercenary next to Sam looked at the general.
Ngige nodded. “Give it to him.”
The soldier handed Sam a cigarette. Sam took it. “Thanks.” He placed it in his mouth and smiled. “Can I trouble you for a light?”
Sam watched the soldier look at his commander for approval. The general nodded and the soldier lit the cigarette. Sam breathed in deeply. His father had offered him a fine Cuban cigar when he was just fifteen years old, after winning his first sailing regatta. The thing tasted like shit then and he never developed a liking to the stuff. He managed to finish it at the time, through several bouts of heavy coughing, but he felt good none the less. Not the taste, not the sensation, but what it represented — his father, who was always the best at every single thing he tried, had given him the cigar in acknowledgement that he’d achieved something.
Standing next to General Ngige, Sam took another puff and flicked a couple pieces of ash into the water. He looked at Ngige. “Why do you want the book so much? I was told you sent a small army to fetch it.”
The general looked around, as though he were trying to make an important decision about whether or not to talk. The better sense failed and his arrogant side won. “You see, a great man came to me as a child. He said he’d seen the future. I figured the guy’s some sort of loony, so I let him go.”
“Go on. What did he tell you?”
Ngige smiled. It was genuine and displayed his affection for the memory. “He said I had risen to great power throughout Africa. He told me he was a builder. A kind of master architect, planning the construction of a new future — and that in it, he had seen a tremendous change. He provided me a long list of predictions for my life. Each one more staggering than the first. In a few years I was to receive an inheritance from a wealthy relative I’d never heard of. His will and last living testament would stipulate that the money be spent on an education at the University of Cape Town. There I would meet a man with somewhat severe views of the politics within the Middle East and I would find myself offering my services to a rebel force, fighting for a cause I then knew nothing about. What it teaches me is that I love to fight. And for no other reason than that, I fought in eleven other conflicts throughout Africa and the Middle East as a mercenary, until I have a reputation as one of the great fighters in the world.”
“So as a kid, you were told you were going to spend your life fighting other people’s wars?”
“Yeah. Which was strange because at the time I had little stomach for the conflicts in my own country. It was at this point I asked the stranger how any of this had anything to do with getting rich and starting a revolution in my own country. Do you know what he said?”
“No,” Sam said.
“He said he would meet me when the country needed me the most and give me the money to fund a war. Said he’d give me all the money I needed to take over the world. One day I was going to lead a revolution that would conquer all of Africa and send ripples of fear, despair and bloody war throughout the world — and when it was all over, Africa would stand united as one nation. The greatest nation on earth!”
“What did you say?”
The general laughed. “I was ten years old living in Zaire during the seventies. I’d never been to school and the only thing I knew how to do was look after the sugarcane fields my parents owned before they were brutally murdered. I survived eight of those years living through rebellion wars. That was my future. That’s what I knew. If I was lucky I might have become some child soldier to a rebel force who’d take me under their wing and protect me. I was never going to lead a revolution. Besides, I had no interest in doing so!”
“So, how much of his prophecies came true?”