He watched the other two helicopters flying in tight formation around them. Higher in the sky he could see another helicopter that looked different, bristling with weaponry and with only two people on board, sitting one behind the other. Suddenly, it pitched up and rolled off behind them in a tight banking turn. Xie reached out to one of the seat straps, expecting them to follow, but instead they continued their course, holding straight and level.
Framed by the silhouette of the GPMG machine gun and the side of the helicopter cabin, he could see the beginnings of a vast volcano slowly come into view. First came a long plume of smoke rising out of the crater, then as they drew closer he could see the immense flanks of black porous rock, spiking up through the forest canopy, hundreds of feet into the air.
The helicopters circled round to the northern side of the volcano, dropping to a hover about fifty feet above the ground. As Xie craned his neck to watch, the entire forest floor seemed to move. Vast camouflage nets were drawn back, suddenly exposing an area the size of a football pitch. With a final whine of the engines, all three helicopters touched down, while the gunner just beside them squeezed off the safety catch with his thumb.
Jian reached inside his trouser pocket and, concealing the little plastic bottle of painkillers in the palm of his hand, surreptitiously swallowed three of the large blue pills. His neck flexed, his Adam’s apple rising as he forced them down. He then unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the helicopter on to the ground. Stooping to keep his head clear of the rotors, he moved away a few paces before suddenly stopping. Hundreds of soldiers stood all around them, pressed together in a dense circle of black limbs and weaponry that fanned all the way back to the edge of the clearing. No one spoke. They just stared silently, eyes narrowed against the sun.
Jian felt sweat collect at the base of his spine as he slowly took in the piratical crew of adolescent boys and men. They
were
armed with an assortment of Kalashnikovs, Chinese-made QBZ-95 assault rifles and basic AK-47s. Most had grenades tied to their webbing straps and long reams of ammunition strung across their glistening chests. They wore faded red berets together with an assortment of military fatigues and worn T-shirts, but the majority were simply bare-chested. Their bodies looked lithe and scrawny, abdomens hardened by the privations of the jungle.
Xie followed, clambering out of the helicopter and blinking unsteadily in the full glare of the sun. He came to a halt beside Jian, standing close by so that their shoulders were almost touching. Xie felt his mind empty. There were so many of them, standing perfectly still, their eyes following every movement, like lions closing in for the kill.
‘
What happens now?
’ Xie whispered in Mandarin. His gaze continued to pass over the faces, mesmerised by the dark eyes brimming with hostility. There was an apocalyptical savagery to it all, as if somehow they had stumbled across the last people on earth.
‘
Jian
,’ Xie whispered, fighting the urge to move back towards the helicopters. But Jian did not answer. Instead, he stood with his chest puffed out, arms stiff by his sides, almost to attention, as if determined not to lose face in front of the army before them.
Suddenly a movement rippled out across the crowd. The soldiers quickly parted, creating a single line that snaked all the way back to the edge of the clearing. A huge man appeared from behind one of the trees. He was brawny, with thick bands of muscle covering his chest and arms, and a
huge
bulbous head. He stepped into the light, revealing a face pitted by tribal cutting scars. They ran from the crown of his head right the way across his cheeks and down past his jawline.
As he stood there, arms hanging loose at his sides, another man of equally monstrous proportions followed him out into the clearing. Suddenly, a high-pitched screaming erupted. Every single person in the crowd was shouting and wailing, waving his weapon in the air. It was as if the entire forest had burst into life, and Xie and Jian suddenly found themselves surrounded by a tide of oscillating arms and heads, the pungent smell of the soldiers’ skin clogging their nostrils. They smelled of earth and ingrained sweat, the smell of Africa.
The shouting grew louder, reaching a crescendo as Joseph-Désiré Mordecai stepped into the clearing.
He was a tall man, maybe only forty-five years old, with a rangy physique and skin that was lighter in colour than his bodyguards’. He was wearing an immaculate white suit which almost glowed in the sunlight.
Mordecai walked along the line of men with a hand extended. The soldiers pushed to be near him, surging forward with hands outstretched and fingers splayed, as they fought for the slightest touch. Despite it all, Mordecai was somehow left unaffected by all the commotion. He walked slowly, his hand drifting from one person’s to the next, barely brushing against their skin. It was as if there was a circle of light around him that no one dared to enter.
Coming to a halt in front of Xie and Jian, Mordecai stared
at
them in silence. They could clearly see his face now, with its high cheekbones and narrow, sculpted nose. The skin of his forehead was smooth except for a single vertical line running down between his eyebrows. But it was the eyes to which both men found themselves drawn. They were a clear, translucent green and filled with a sense of sympathy and calm, as if Xie and Jian had somehow been responsible for a terrible tragedy but he was already prepared to forgive them.
The monster they had been expecting had vanished. Before them stood a man who was attractive and confident, radiating a sense of serenity.
‘My brothers,’ Mordecai said, opening his arms. ‘We finally meet.’
Jian was the first to react, offering a curt bow before stretching out his hand in greeting. Mordecai simply stared at it, tucking his own hands behind his back, but then gave a warm, magnanimous smile.
‘You have done much to help our cause,’ he said. ‘It is your weapons that have built this army. It is with these weapons that we will strike back at those dogs in Kinshasa.’ Mordecai’s voice grew louder, playing to the crowd. ‘Are you ready for Kinshasa my children? Are you ready for war?’
The soldiers erupted again, hanging on his every word. Mordecai let his eyes close for the briefest of moments, revelling in the hysteria. When they opened once more, they were staring directly at Jian.
‘As you can see, we are ready!’ he said. Then, tilting his head back and straining from the effort, he shouted, ‘The
time
is now, my brothers! Tomorrow we leave on the long march to Kinshasa and we will scorch the earth as we go. We are the soldiers of light and every one of those cockroach
muzungos
will be crushed under our boots. Are you ready to fight?’
The crowd screamed in response.
‘Are you ready to bathe in their blood?’
The crowd surged forward, the clamour deafening.
‘Then show me!’ Mordecai shouted.
A chant began, low at first but building in strength and pitch. ‘Mordecai! Mordecai! Mordecai!’ There was something hollow, almost detached, about it, as if the name alone was enough to inflict harm.
Mordecai nodded slowly. He had promised them death and they loved him for it.
SIGNALLING TO HIS
bodyguards, Mordecai set off towards the edge of the clearing with the Chinese following close behind. As they passed under the canopy, they could see yet more soldiers, their bodies half-concealed by dense undergrowth. What they had seen in the clearing was just the vanguard. Mordecai’s army was vast.
A narrow path wound through the trees to the base of the volcano, where rough steps had been hacked into the black rock. These led up to a wide natural balcony. Under an overhanging slab of rock was a cave in which a table and four leather safari chairs were arranged. A few okapi hides were stretched across the floor, and an old fridge-freezer stood next to a metal fan. A low hum filtered out across the balcony as the fan slowly drew from one side to the next, circulating the bone-dry air.
The bodyguards melted deeper into the shadow of the cave, leaving Mordecai at one end of the table, facing Xie and Jian. They had climbed high enough to be above the trees and
now
before them stretched a panorama of the Ituri Forest, vibrant with every imaginable shade of green.
Mordecai signalled to the back of the cave and an old man approached, carrying a tray with a large wire-mesh cage on top. He banged it down on the table, his skinny arms clumsy and weak. Mordecai smiled up at him, gently grasping his wrist.
‘
Vous semblez fatigué, mon oncle. Reposez-vous
.’ You look tired, uncle. Get some rest, he whispered.
Mordecai then turned to General Jian, who was already staring through the wire mesh. Inside were two identically coloured butterflies, one slightly larger than the other. They had pink markings running back from the thorax, with the tip of each wing ending in patches of jet black. The wings themselves looked incredibly delicate, as if spun from the gossamer of a spider’s web.
‘
Salamis parhassus
,’ Jian whispered, his eyes unblinking as he stared at the specimens. ‘I thought they were extinct.’
‘There are many precious things left still in the Congo,’ Mordecai replied. ‘And think of these as but a small token of our friendship.’
Mordecai inclined his head towards Xie.
‘I was not aware that you would be coming, otherwise I would have found you a suitable gift. No one leaves my country empty-handed.’
‘Coming to your country is … much reward,’ Xie said, in broken English with a heavy Chinese accent. ‘I am only advisor to General. An administrator.’
Xie gave a polite smile, rubbing his fingers over the skin
at
the corner of one eye, suddenly appearing extremely tired. With his ruffled hair and cheap linen suit, he looked almost uninterested in the proceedings and, after a moment’s reflection, Mordecai seemed to discount him, turning his full attention back to Jian.
‘These specimens were found in the far north of the forest. I had my soldiers go there especially.’
‘They’re perfect,’ Jian replied with an appreciative nod. ‘They shall have pride of place in my collection.’
‘Heaven’s bounty is endless,’ Mordecai stated, clasping his hands together. ‘And you deserve a share in it. You have brought us everything we need to overthrow Kabila’s regime. For that you will be richly rewarded.’
Jian raised an eyebrow. ‘Rewarded? I think that it is you who are being “richly rewarded”. We are paying you three billion dollars for this mine. That is not an insignificant amount of money.’
‘No, it is not, but the price is justified nonetheless. You’ve produced millions of handsets using our fire coltan and that is going to make you rich men.’ He pointed his finger at Jian directly, and smiled as if sharing a joke. ‘You will be a
very
rich man.’
Not a flicker of a reaction passed across Jian’s face, but inwardly his suspicions were aroused. Was Mordecai referring to the Guild in general becoming rich, or did he somehow know about Jian’s own side dealings in the Lebanon? No, that was impossible. How could he know anything about it, stuck out here in this wretched jungle?
Mordecai shifted in his seat, his eyes draining of humour.
‘And
tell me, when will the handsets be delivered to the West?’
‘They have already left the warehouses,’ Jian answered quickly, pleased to have a change of subject. The announcement had been made fourteen hours ago and had triggered a worldwide media storm. Shares for the entire existing telecommunications market were already collapsing. ‘Everything is in place. And now we are ready to transfer the fifty per cent down payment and take control of this mine.’
Mordecai nodded vaguely, his eyes moving to the butterflies on the table. The rich effervescent pink of their wings glowed in the light.
‘On handover, as agreed,’ Jian continued, ‘we will transfer a further twenty-five per cent, with the remaining balance payable after the first year of production. A total of three billion dollars.’
Mordecai nodded slowly, appearing almost indifferent to the sums of money being discussed. Instead, he turned to survey the view. Seconds passed, with Mordecai seemingly lost in his own thoughts, then suddenly his expression changed, becoming warm and ingratiating again, as if now dealing with long-lost friends.
‘The production of fire coltan will continue for many more years,’ he whispered, wetting his lips with his tongue. ‘You can rest assured of that. But what if I were to make you a better deal?’
Jian shrugged but Xie remained perfectly still, observing every nuance of Mordecai’s expression.
‘As before, you will take control of this mine, but I will
also
grant you all the mining concessions for the entire North and South Kivu provinces.’
‘But they are not yours to give,’ Jian countered.
Mordecai raised his arms up to the heavens. ‘You have seen our army. There is nothing to stop us from seizing power; the militias are already defeated and Kabila’s army is pathetic and undisciplined.’
‘And MONUC?’ asked Jian.
‘MONUC,’ Mordecai repeat, the disgust clear in his voice. ‘Those
muzungos
will be the first to die. They are gutless and divided, too scared even to leave their compounds.’ He leaned forward in his chair and Xie watched as his eyes suddenly changed, burning with a hateful energy that transformed his entire face. There was a terrible certainty in those eyes, as if something had been put in motion that could never be stopped.