Night Of Knives

Chapter 5

Michael flinches. "What - why wouldn't they?"

"Wrong question. Why would they?"

Nobody has an answer.

The waterfall noise changes as two men push through its flowing curtain. One of them is the muscled one-eyed man. They other they have not seen before. He is even taller than Jacob, at least six foot six, he reminds Veronica of basketball players she has met. The cave is not quite big enough for him and he has to stoop. He wears sneakers, black shorts, and a ragged blue T-shirt too small for him, and he walks with a pronounced limp. The one-eyed man carries a plastic bucket full of some pale pastelike substance, and a jute sack holding a half-dozen spherical things about the size of human heads. Veronica freezes in place as it dawns on her that they might actually be human heads. Both men carry pangas lashed to their belts.

"Good morning," the tall man says, putting down sack and bucket. His accented English is soft-spoken and Veronica has to strain to hear him over the waterfall. "My name is Gabriel."

"I can get you money," Michael bursts out. "Give me a phone and I can get you a million dollars if you let us go."

Gabriel examines him curiously. "What is your name?"

"Michael Anderson."

"You are a rich man, Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes I am," Michael says. "And I'm ready to make you rich too."

"C'est vrai? The Bible says it is harder for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven."

Michael stares at him. "Don't you want money?"

"Of course I want money. But please, how is it you would give it to me?"

"I can do a bank transfer today, for fifty thousand dollars, I can do it in ten minutes if you give me a phone -"

Gabriel half-smiles. "Do I seem like a man who has an account at a Swiss bank? Please, Mr. Anderson. Be sensible. Who will negotiate the arrangements? Who will transform the numbers in your bank account into dollars that I can hold? Such a magical transformation. Like water into wine. Who will bring me those dollars? Where will we meet? How will my safety be guaranteed? Are these arrangements that you can make today, in ten minutes, Mr. Anderson?"

Veronica is relieved, listening to him. He doesn't talk like a brutal thug. He talks like an educated, reasonable man.

"I'll find a way," Michael says. "I'll work with you. We can make these arrangements together."

"Thank you. But I prefer to work with professionals. Please, all of you, do not be afraid. Put your minds at ease. There is a long history in my country of trading tourists for money. Laurent Kabila, the lamented father of our president, he did this often when he was a fighter in the bush, like me. Today no tourists come to Congo, we must seek them out in Uganda, but the principles remain the same. Please. I will negotiate arrangements with your governments, not with you."

Veronica takes a deep breath and lets herself look away from the sack full of headlike objects. She feels a little steadier. They will be ransomed. Everything will be fine. Or at least survivable.

"That all sounds terrific," Derek says. "But there's something you need to understand."

Gabriel looks at him.

"Our governments will insist on verifying our well-being before they pay you one dime. And if we've been abused, they will come down on you so hard you won't know what hit you. Kabila kidnapped his tourists last century. The world is different now. You kidnap some Americans and Brits and Canadians, and then you ransom us unhurt, fair enough, you're not worth chasing down. But you hurt us again and you will die. That animal tried to rape her last night." He indicates the one-eyed man and Susan. "He pulls any of that shit again, he uses that whip again, anything happens to us, even if it's not your fault, even if one of us gets sick, then you and all your men will fucking die. Is that clear? Do you understand that?"