Time of the Assassins

She waited until he had left the room then crossed to the dresser and picked up the card. Joseph Moredi, deputy editor of La Voix, Remy Mobuto's newspaper. If he was who he claimed to be then he could prove to be a valuable contact for them in Zimbala. There was only one way to find out. She sat down on the edge of the bed and dialled UN AGO headquarters in New York.

Massenga climbed out of the car after Gubene had parked it in the garage of the safe house and slammed the door angrily behind him. Gubene waited until he had stalked out of the garage before getting out of the car himself and locking the driver's door. Moments later he heard Massenga unlocking the front door and he winced as it hammered against the wall. Then silence. He exhaled deeply then closed the garage door and walked down the narrow path. He pushed open the front door gingerly with his fingers and entered. He found Massenga perched on the edge of the sofa in the lounge, his hand resting lightly on the telephone.

'You want a drink?' Gubene asked apprehensively, gesturing towards the cabinet in the corner of the room.

Massenga shook his head then looked down at the telephone. 'What am I supposed to tell him?'

'The truth,' Gubene replied then crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a Scotch.

'That we failed?' Massenga said then slumped back on the sofa. 'He'll crucify us, you know that.'

'You couldn't have anticipated what happened. She'd be dead now if that man hadn't intervened when he did. It wasn't your fault.'

'You want to tell that to Ngune?'

'You're the only one with his number,' Gubene said with a shrug then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Massenga dialled the number he had memorized. Ngune answered it immediately at the other end. Massenga told him what had happened at the hotel.

'So she's still alive?' Ngune concluded once Massenga had finished.

'Yes, sir,' Massenga muttered.

'And who was this knight in shining armour?'

Ngune asked sarcastically as he struggled to control his temper.

'I didn't get a good look at him, sir,' Massenga replied. 'It all happened so quickly.'

'You disappoint me, Thomas. I thought you were the one person I could rely on to carry out an order.'

'I couldn't have anticipated his intervention, sir,' Massenga replied defensively, remembering Gubene's words.

'I want results, not excuses!' Ngune snarled angrily. 'And if you can't get them for me, I'll find someone who can. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Find out the identity of the man. Then call me.'

'Do you want him killed?'

'If it's not asking too much,' Ngune retorted facetiously.

'I'll see to it, sir.'

'I hope so, Thomas. If I have to send someone else to Habane it could seriously jeopardize your chances of becoming the new head of the Security Police once we're in power. Remember that.'

'Yes, sir, I realize…" Massenga trailed off when he heard the dialling tone. He replaced the receiver then crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a Scotch. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Sabrina was studying a map of the city when there was a knock at the door. She picked up the Beretta off the bedside table and peered through the spyhole. It was the man with the wire-framed glasses. She opened the door.

'Inside,' she said, beckoning him into the room.

He entered and she closed the door behind him. His smile faltered when he saw the Beretta in her hand. 'You won't need that, I assure you.'

'Not if you're really Joseph Moredi. But I don't know that yet, do I?'

He swallowed nervously and nodded hesitantly. 'Did you speak to Jamel Mobuto?'

'Not personally. I had one of my colleagues do it.'

'And did he set a question for me?'

She nodded.

'Could we get on with it?' he said anxiously, his eyes darting towards the gun aimed at his stomach.

'While you were at Oxford you once went to a rugby match together. Who was playing?'

'I've never been to a rugby match in my life. We once went to a football match together. Arsenal was the home team. Who were they playing?' he mused thoughtfully. 'They weren't from London. Black and white striped shirts.' He suddenly snapped his fingers together and pointed at Sabrina. 'Newcastle.'

Sabrina lowered the gun. 'I'm glad you got that right.'

'Not half as glad as I am,' Moredi said, indicating the gun in her hand. 'But why did you say rugby…' he trailed off with a knowing smile. 'Of course, a trick question.'

'An added precaution,' she replied then indicated the armchair in the corner of the room. 'Please, won't you sit down, Mr Moredi.'

'Thank you,' he said and eased himself into the armchair.

She replaced the Beretta on the table and sat on the bed. 'One thing still puzzles me. How did Massenga know I would be on that plane?'

'He was obviously tipped off, but by whom I couldn't say.' He shrugged. 'Was I right about your investigation being linked to the Mobuto brothers?'

'Yes, but I can't go into details.'

'I appreciate that.' Moredi suddenly sat forward, his arms resting on his knees. 'Jamel and Remy Mobuto have been friends of mine for over twenty years. And now they're both in danger. I'll do anything I can to help them, anything.'

'You said earlier that Massenga tried to kill me to prevent me from stumbling on the truth. What exactly did you mean by "the truth"?'

'I only know part of it. Remy's the only one who knows the whole truth. And he was kidnapped earlier today.'

'By Massenga?'

'By him, or on his orders. Massenga's been Ngune's right-hand man for the past five years. An anonymous caller telephoned me at the newspaper to say that the rebels were holding Remy.'

'Do you have any idea where he's being held?'

'I have it on good authority from one of my more reliable sources that he's being held at the Branco prison in Kondese, in the south of the country, a couple of hours drive from here.'

'How much did Remy Mobuto tell you before he was kidnapped?'

'Only that he was onto a story about a plot to assassinate his brother. It was something big, or so he claimed. It involved Ngune, Massenga and a third man, the man who would pull the trigger.'

'Did he mention a name?'

Moredi shook his head. 'He knew who it was but he wouldn't tell me. Not until he had the proof he needed to publish the story. Remy was like that. He always played his cards close to his chest. He went to a rendezvous with an informant who had that proof. That's when he was abducted.'

'And the informant?'

'Blood was found in his car but there was no sign of him.'

'So Remy is the key to this whole affair?'

Moredi nodded. 'Not only does he know who will pull the trigger, he also knows where and when the assassination will take place.'

'Does the name Bernard mean anything to you?' Sabrina asked.

Moredi bit his lip thoughtfully then shook his head. 'No, I can't say it does. Who is he?'

'That I can't tell you,' Sabrina replied apologetically. 'At least not for the moment.'

'I understand.'

Sabrina bit her lip thoughtfully. 'Why don't the army check out this Branco prison to see if Remy Mobuto is being held there?'

'Kondese is rebel country. The army won't go there. They're waiting up here, in the north, for Ngune to make his first move.'