why you're working with these two. Because they're the experts on blood. On fucking genocide."
"What would you rather have?" Susan asks. "Them in the Congo, killing and destabilizing, where there's already four million dead in the civil war, or in quiet exile here in Zimbabwe after Gorokwe takes over?"
"Oh. Oh, I see. Of course. That's what's in it for them. You're their retirement package. Athanase here is wanted for crimes against humanity and you're his fucking pension plan. You have to play nice with him or he'll tell the whole world everything about you, so if you win, you'll put him and his people up in a nice little villa here for as long as he wants. He committed a fucking holocaust and you're putting him out to pasture."
"What now?" Veronica asks, looking directly at Danton. "What are you going to do to us?"
A long silence hangs over the room; long enough for Jacob's rage to begin to dissipate.
"Nobody's going to touch you. I promise you that," Danton says to Veronica. "But I can't say the same about your boyfriend."
Jacob swallows. He feels very cold.
Danton stands and walks over to Jacob. "You need to tell us where your evidence is."
"I don't have any."
"Not on you, no. You gave your CD to Lysander, and he gave it to us." Jacob winces. "But you have more, don't you? Backed up online. I'm sure you do, you must, you're a technical professional. Ready to be sent out automatically if you don't log in to a certain web site, maybe? A dead man's switch?"
"No," Jacob lies. "Nothing like that."
"You really need to tell us the truth now," Danton warns. "We're not playing games. We can't afford to. You're going to tell us. The easy way or the hard. Up to you."
Jacob stares into Danton's face, then looks at their other enemies, at Gorokwe, Susan, Athanase, Casimir. He thinks of the little girl at the ruined farm. He thinks of Derek on that airstrip in the Congo, remembers how his best friend's head rolled forward from his body after Casimir's third and final stroke of the panga. He remembers holding Veronica close in the Ruwenzori Traveller's Inn.
Jacob makes a decision, takes a deep breath. "There's nothing to tell."
Danton and Susan look dismayed. Gorokwe and Casimir look indifferent.
Athanase smiles, showing his teeth, and croons, "On va voir." Meaning, we shall see.
The last Jacob sees of Veronica is her stricken, alarmed face as Athanase and Casimir drag him out of the room where the Queen Mother once slept.
* * *
Jacob is shivering as if with malaria, he feels like he is about to lose control of all his body, too weak from fear to struggle as they half-drag him to the end of a long corridor. He knows what's going to happen. But he also knows that the result will be the same regardless. They will kill him. Probably Veronica too, but definitely him. He knows too much. He will die here in this hotel. The only thing left is to not tell them anything - because Danton is right about his dead man's switch.
He tries to tell himself it doesn't matter how he dies.
The room at the end of the hall smells vile. There is something big and bloody hanging from its ceiling. It takes Jacob a moment to recognize it as a human form. The man's wrists are tied to a rope dangling from a hook in the ceiling originally intended for a light. The ankles are attached so a similar but longer rope, so that the man hangs diagonally over the bed, at something like a forty-five degree angle. Blood oozes from burn-blackened flesh all over the body, a Rorschach-like stain has formed on the beige carpet beneath. The man's face and genitals have been almost entirely burnt away. Jacob can see the bone of the eyesockets.
Athanase picks up a bloodstained steak knife from the bed and sticks it into the body, as if impaling a piece of meat on his plate. It is not until the man wriggles a little, and a rattling breath emerges from his throat, that Jacob realizes he is still alive. Then he sees, and recognizes, the clothes piled in the corner of the room. Jacob wants to scream but can't breathe, can't move, can barely stand.
"Tu lui connais, je crois," Athanase says conversationally. "Ici c'est Lysander."
"No," Jacob moans.
Athanase produces a Zippo lighter much like Veronica's, idly flicks open and ignites it, then claps it shut again. He smiles.