Fire Force(91)

‘And what’s the view on what’s likely to happen to these men, Ken?’ asked the newscaster.

‘A trial is being organised for the next couple of days in Ibera,’ answered Mialich, looking straight to the camera. ‘We’ll have to wait for that for the next stage in this drama.’

‘And do people think there really was a coup attempt?’

‘It’s certainly very convenient for the President,’ answered Mialich. ‘There’s a Presidential election in a few days, and with the Batotean economy in ruins, the threat of foreign military intervention is about the only thing that could rally support back to his cause. Against that, these are all men with military backgrounds, August Tshaka has been killed, and they were arrested in Batota - so something may have been going on. At this stage we just don’t know the full story.’

‘Thanks, Ken,’ said the newscaster. ‘And now to other news. It was another turbulent day for global stock markets . . .’

Ian stood up and switched off the television.

‘Bastards,’ muttered Steve, grinding his fists together. He took another hit of his coffee. ‘Sharratt must have planned this from the start,’ he continued. ‘But what the hell is the man playing at?’

‘I think I can tell you,’ said Ian.

Both Steve and Nick were looking straight up at him.

‘There’s a computer with a web connection in the lobby, and I’ve been doing some research,’ Ian continued. ‘After I saw that our men had been arrested and accused of plotting to murder the President, I checked out the prices of Sharratt’s hedge fund. It jumped in the City yesterday, up by almost thirty per cent. The reason? Well, one of the companies it controls just announced a major new deal. It’s discovered some serious platinum deposits in Eastern Batota. Tons of the stuff, apparently, and platinum trades at two thousand dollars an ounce, making it more than twice as expensive as gold. The mining company Sharratt controls has just been granted a twenty-five-year licence by President Kapembwa to exploit the mine.’

‘What an arsehole,’ muttered Nick.

‘Exactly,’ said Ian. ‘I reckon Sharratt was playing us for suckers right from the start. He wanted the mining licence, so he offered Kapembwa a deal. He’d find some boys to take out his enemy for him, then he’d set them up with an assassination plot. It was all designed to whip up public sympathy for him ahead of the elections. If there’s one thing that plays well in Africa, it’s the threat of the old white colonialists coming back and seizing power again. He just needed a gang of mercenaries to be the fall guys.’

‘And Sharratt chose us,’ said Steve, his tone hard and bitter.

‘Precisely,’ said Ian.

‘OK - we were going to kill the bastard for money, now we’ll do it for revenge,’ said Steve. ‘And once we’ve done that, we’ll hunt down Sharratt and finish him as well.’

‘The question is how?’ said Ian.

Steve was thinking. He was looking out of the window, out at the lake, and out into Batota. There has to be a way, he told himself. It’s just a question of finding it.

At that moment, the receptionist walked into the bar. ‘Mr West?’

Steve looked around. ‘Yes?’

‘There’s someone to see you.’

Steve paused. Me? How the hell could anyone know I’m here?

‘Who is it?’

‘They want you to come and meet them in the lobby.’

‘Tell them I’ll be there in a moment,’ said Steve curtly. He glanced across at Ian as soon as the woman left the room. ‘Maybe one of Wallace’s men?’ he said.

Ian nodded, his expression tense. ‘Or one of Sharratt’s guys,’ he said. ‘I reckon he figured we’d all be executed by his mate Kapembwa and he wouldn’t have to worry about us any more. The last thing he wants is to have us out in the open. Even if we can’t get Ollie and the boys out, he knows we’ll track him down, and when we find him we’ll empty every last pint of blood out of his lying, treacherous body.’

Steve nodded, permitting himself a smile. There was no mistaking Ian’s anger. No one pursued a vendetta like an Ulsterman, that much was certain. Get into a grudge fight with one of those guys, and it could last for centuries.

‘But how would he find us here?’ interrupted Nick.

‘The taxi driver, maybe?’

Ian nodded his agreement. ‘Word gets around a place like this pretty fast. We’re not safe here.’

‘I’m going to see who it is,’ said Steve. He’d already unhooked his Uzi from his belt. Taking three bullets from Nick, he slotted them into the mag. ‘Make sure I’m covered,’ he told the other two.