girl, boy commits genocide, boy loses girl."
She winces. "That's not funny."
"That's Africa."
"I don't think he's a sociopath. I think he's, he's repented."
"I think he's using us, just like he was using Derek, and we'll never see him again."
She shakes her head. "What do we do if you're right?"
Jacob has no answer. Veronica lies back on the bed, closes her eyes and tries to think. Something has been bothering her since the embassy, a mental itch that won't go away, a vague but nagging notion that they have misunderstood something vital.
The idea that Danton, Strick and Dr. Murray conspired to smuggle gold and coltan out of the Congo, and are now being blackmailed by Al-Qaeda – the more she thinks about it, the less it makes sense. Veronica would have sworn that Danton would never have gotten involved in something as sordid as African smuggling. Prester was totally convinced that Strick was not corrupt. And the idea of Danton, Strick and Dr. Murray, smart and cautious men, all being so careless as to leave evidence that could be used to blackmail them – it just seems unlikely.
She thinks of the expression on Danton's face when he said he came to Uganda to save lives. She was married to him for seven years, and she knows he meant it.
She thinks back to Rukungu telling them that the man who killed Derek wasn't Al-Qaeda, wasn't even a Muslim, was one of Athanase's interahamwe thugs dressed up in a dishdash, and furthermore that the only Arab among the interahamwe was a trader with no religion but money.
Veronica opens her eyes wide.
"Jacob," she says.
He looks at her.
"Tell me something," Veronica says slowly. "How do we know, how do we actually know, that there were ever any terrorists?"
Jacob stares at her. "What are you talking about? You mean in the Congo?"
"Yes."
"But - we saw them."
"No we didn't. We saw three black men in dishdashes. One of whom we now know was just one of Athanase's men. And one Arab guy who, if you think about it, never actually did anything except pose for the camera."
Jacob considers, remembers. "True. But why would Athanase pretend to be working with Al-Qaeda?"
"Maybe because Strick and Danton and Dr. Murray told him to."
"What?"
"I don't know," she admits. "Maybe I'm wrong. But something about all this just doesn't seem to make any sense."
"They don't benefit from a fake Al-Qaeda scare. Nobody does."
"No." Veronica sighs. She should have known the idea was too crazy to be true.
Then Jacob says, thoughtfully, "No, wait. That's not actually true. There is one guy who did very well off our abduction, isn't there?"
She looks at him.
"Our friend from Zimbabwe. General Gideon Gorokwe. Remember what Prester said? A couple weeks ago he was an evil general from a pariah state. Today he's getting weapons, meeting with American diplomats, he's a valuable ally in the war on terror."
"Right," Veronica sits up. "Maybe Gorokwe invented fake terrorists to get American support. Maybe he and Athanase were in cahoots."
Jacob shakes his head. "No. Sorry. If Al-Qaeda aren't really in the Congo, then what's with the surface-to-air missiles?"
"Maybe they're for Gorokwe."
"What does he need them for? More to the point, why did Strick want to get them to him? Why would Danton and Strick and Dr. Murray get in bed with Gorokwe and Athanase?"
Veronica can't think of any answer. She tries to imagine what could bind her multimillionaire ex-husband, a senior American diplomat, and a CIA agent to an interahamwe warlord and a Zimbabwean general, and fails.
"To save lives," she says, repeating her ex-husband's words. "That's why Danton said he was here. He actually said it like he meant it."
"Yeah? Whose lives?"
She shrugs. "He does donate a lot of money to Africa. Mostly to Zimbabwe, his mother was born there. Until last year, when Mugabe threw out most of the NGOs and stopped accepting money. So I guess that's one way Danton might be connected to Gorokwe. But I don't see how you save lives with surface-to-air missiles. I mean, he's deluded enough to believe you can, if you kill the right person."
Jacob considers that a moment. Then he stiffens.
Veronica looks at him curiously. "What?"
"Holy fucking God."
"What?"
"Kill the right person," he repeats. "Think about it. If you're right, if this was all a plot to get Gorokwe Western support. After you did that, who would you want to kill?"
She shrugs, uncomprehending.
"Mugabe," he says. "The President of Zimbabwe. They're going to shoot him down and have Gorokwe take over with American support."
They stare