Edge of Dawn

Chapter 19

The door opened again, and an old grizzled man walked in and headed for the gloom of the smoke covered bar. The bartender, a bulky man with a patch over his left eye, lifted his chin to prompt an order from his customer. Losing interest in the man almost immediately, Patrick looked around the room again. His beer was getting warm and the continual dread of being caught with the stones was now weighing heavily on his mind. He had left headquarters as soon as he could, packing his bags and placing the stones carefully into a small leather pouch strapped securely to his waist and hidden under a thick brown sweater. One of the troopers had driven him to the nearest town, a collection of lean to buildings and huts, almost crumbling before his eyes.

After waiting for almost an hour at the four poles and a thatched roof called the local bus station by the deluded locals, he had boarded the ancient bus through a cloud of petrol fumes. Slowly they had driven at a snail's pace towards the eastern border to another small town. Having checked into the local hotel and given his small dirty room a cursory glance he left for one of the three bars located around town. This particular establishment was tucked away in a dark, dirty alley with a broken neon sign hanging lopsided over the front. Not many people frequented it and those that did had no interest in anything but the cheap beer they were drinking.

He glanced at his watch for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes and wondered not for the first time that night, what had happened to his contact. They had arranged to meet here a few months ago. As a senior officer in the army his contact required absolute secrecy. It wouldn't do Patrick's reputation any good either to be recognised. The door opened again and clanked shut behind the man who had entered. His face was in shadow as he moved towards the bar and ordered a beer in slurred accents. Picking up the glass he moved nonchalantly down the room, bumping into the other drunks on the way, until he reached the corner booth. Stumbling slightly he fell heavily onto the seat and slumped forward.

Patrick glanced at the bar to make sure no one was watching them and then without looking at the man said, 'Get up.'

The man's muffled answer reached him, 'After the lion feeds.'

Patrick sipped his beer quietly for a few minutes while the man muttered incoherent phrases. Suddenly he raised his head and his intelligent expression belied his supposedly drunken condition.

'Do you have them?'

'Yes.' Patrick touched his chest gently.

'Good.'

Quickly the bag was un-strapped and handed under the table. The man pocketed it swiftly and then took another swig of his beer. He staggered to his feet, balancing precariously as he sidestepped out of the booth and nearly fell again. Slamming the glass on the counter he ordered another drink. Ten minutes later Patrick left the bar and sauntered into one of the more popular bars on the other side of town, eager to wash away the bitter taste of cheap beer from his mouth. He remained in the town for one more day before commencing his return journey to headquarters, schooling his face into a mask of misery in keeping with the supposed death of his mother.

Commander Ebala opened his eyes slowly, blinking as the bright morning sun shone through the window facing the large king size bed. Lifting his hand, he wiped it across his eyes and yawned loudly before leaping out of bed in one smooth movement. He was a handsome man even at forty years of age, and several women still vied for his attention in the bars he frequented. No silver hairs showed through the dense curls on his head, his face was innocent of wrinkles, his jaw line hard and smooth to the touch. His carriage was that of a trained soldier, and as he moved lazily across the room, his muscles flexed and rippled under his dark skin, looking like dozens of coiled serpents ready to strike. Being over six feet tall ensured he always towered over his subordinates and colleagues, creating an air of superiority instantly. Even though his behaviour appeared to be lazy and indolent, his eyes were quick and rarely missed anything.

Now as he walked towards the luxurious en suite bathroom, his eyes were constantly moving, taking stock of their surroundings, storing away information for future use. He had started his career as a lowly soldier full of ideals for his country. After enduring the hardships of army life and war which had torn his family from him, he had lost all sense of loyalty to this famine ridden and war infested country, replaced speedily by an ardent desire to make himself more comfortable. He had started by taking the occasional bribe and to ignore some of the goings on in the army camp. Having amassed some money and a lot of leverage against his immediate superiors, bribery and blackmail had been the next step forward. Slowly but surely, he had risen to his current position as Commander of the Ugandan army.

However he knew only too well how precarious his situation was. His past hid many evils and he hadn't managed to hide them all from prying eyes. He kept afloat by buying off people or worse. He had assembled his own private army, full of cutthroats and disillusioned soldiers eager to do anything for money. These were in regular service in squads controlled directly by him, so he could call upon them at any time and not have to answer to anyone. He had moved soldiers around several times to please his intentions. Sometimes within a week of a new soldier entering a squad, another would mysteriously disappear or commit suicide or encounter "friendly fire". These men were usually the few who refused to be bribed respectably or had tried to blackmail the commander. Commander Ebala's rank ensured he had a wide network of comrades across the neighbouring countries as well as his own. As such he was a monumental peg in the smuggling of conflict diamonds from the mines of western and central Africa. His connections, as widespread as they were, were foolproof. So far none of the deliveries had been affected with him in charge. His men feared him and had a healthy respect for his temper. They had seen his enemies dispatched with little ceremony, and none of them were eager to goad him.

He ran the warm water in the sink, washing his hands thoroughly before pulling out his toothbrush. From the room beyond, a light rustling sound reached him. Ignoring it he bent to spit out the toothpaste and gargle. Straightening up he glanced in the mirror to see Nina lounging against the doorframe, the bed sheets wrapped loosely around her body watching his naked body with appreciation. Having finished cleaning his mouth, he turned on the shower.

'Time you went,' he said over his shoulder as he tested the water with his fingers.

'When will I see you again?'

'When you see me,' he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand and drew the shower curtain between them.

Nina sighed and walked back to the bed to get dressed. Ebala was a hard man to live with and she was glad she was only one of numerous mistresses. If she had to live with him and his sudden mood swings she felt sure one of them would not survive long, and she had a fair idea who that would be. They came from the same tribe and she had known him as a child. When she had come to the big city he had taken her under his wing, but one thing was certain, he had changed. She had no idea how his three wives managed. They were mostly kept at his village carrying out household chores under their mother-in-law's sharp eyes. He rarely saw them or his five children, except on public holidays when he travelled home to spend a maximum of two days with them before returning to the city and his work. Being the wealthiest person in the village he had bought dozens of cattle and hired herd boys to tend them. During the day the herds grazed far and wide darkening the slopes of the surrounding hills. The hut his family lived in was the most comfortable in the village and his wives had been chosen for their political advantage rather than their affection for him. They were all the daughters of tribal leaders, powerful men when it came to voting ministers into parliament. A veritable gold mine when the named ministers paid Ebala to speak on their behalf to placate the multitudes in the rural areas. Nina shook her head and started dressing knowing that if he caught her in the mansion the punishment would be severe.

Finally dressed, she let herself out of the room and walked out of the large mansion situated on a rising hill in one of the residential suburbs outside the capital city of Kampala. The guards at the gates knew her well and exchanged playful banter with her. Ebala left the shower a few minutes later, dressed and reached out to grab the telephone as it started ringing.

'Yes?'

'It's done.'

'Good.' He replaced the receiver and walked into thelarge dining room. A good breakfast wasessential before a hard day's work. 

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