The market was also a curious blend of the traditional and the new. It offered everything from fresh produce to the latest electronic devices. There were wooden stands with canvas canopies. They stood on asphalt covered with windblown sand and dead grasses. All around was the quiet clack of laptop computers. The merchants used these to keep track of their sales and inventory. Beyond the market were new, white brick apartments and municipal offices. Stuck between them, in alleys and odd angles, were shanties with warped, discolored shingles. Several of them had small satellite dishes on their sloping roofs. She could see the glow of color televisions through the windows.
At the far end of the market was a building that served as a multidenominational chapel. It was empty. Maria wondered if that had anything to do with the attack on the church at the tourist center. On the opposite end of the market was a bar. It appeared relatively empty as well. Perhaps it was too early in the day for Maunans to drink.
The town was very different from Madrid. The air was different. It was clean and dry. The sunshine felt different, too. There was no smog to filter the heat and brilliance. Maria loved it. She simultaneously felt free and plugged in. And plugged in was not simply a figure of speech. There was electricity under her skin. It was in her fingertips, along the back of her neck, at the peaks of her high cheekbones. Some of the excitement came from being part of a great intelligence machine like Op-Center. But most of it arose from something else. It was something the woman had enjoyed ever since she was four years old, the day when she was seated on her first horse.
Risk.
In her thirty-eight years, Maria had learned that two things
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made any moment particularly sweet. One was sharing it alone and uninterrupted with your loved one. That had happened once far too many times in her life. With Darrell McCaskey it had happened repeatedly, becoming richer and more textured each time. Maria had grown tired of once. That was why she had made the commitment to her new husband.
But the other most precious times in life were knowing that any given moment could be your last. Every part of one's being came to life in those instants. You could feel it begin to build days before. A sharpening of the senses, memory, intellect, every physical and emotional resource at your command. When Bob Herbert called her the day before, Maria made a decision. She decided there was no reason she could not have a life with both intimacy and danger. Darrell would have to learn to live with that. After all, he was asking her to do the same.
Maybe, she thought, the risk was what made those other moments so wonderful. Once before they went after a militant group of Basque Separatists, a fellow Interpol agent had said to her, 'Tonight we make love, for tomorrow we may die.' She was not in love with the man, but it was a very intense night.
Even if nothing exciting happened in Maun, Maria was thrilled to be here. Just being involved in a major, evolving operation was exciting. Before leaving Spain, Maria had pulled the Interpol files on Botswana. The history and leadership profiles brought her up to speed on the nation. In a region beset by ethnic squabbles and hungry warlords, Botswana was the self-declared 'Gem of Africa.' It was a stable, democratic region of economic growth. Pertinent to her own trip, she noticed the laws against women loitering. They were extremely strict. According to a file from the Botswana Directorate on Corruption and Economic Crime, murder, drug dealing, and prostitution were zero-tolerance crimes. Firstoffense prostitution carried a mandatory prison sentence of not less than two years. Nor were the laws against prostitution and drugs based solely on the local ethic. Eighteen percent of the nation's adult population was infected with HIV. The laws
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were an effort to keep the disease from spreading.
Maria did not intend to linger anywhere. She had been sent to keep a surreptitious eye on the American bishop. But before leaving Spain, she had been informed that a dozen elite soldiers with the Grupo del Cuartel General, Unidad Especial del Despliegue had come over on the previous flight. The Spanish military could look out for the well-being of the bishop. Maria had another goal. She wanted to try to find Father Bradbury. When David Battat and Aideen Marley arrived, she wanted to have leads.
When Paris was finished with his call, he came after Maria. He found her standing beside a stand that sold handmade scarves. He asked Maria what she would like to do.
'The first thing I want to do is go to my hotel and wash up,' she informed him.
'Naturally,' Paris said. 'I assume you are staying at the Maun Oasis.'
'Yes.'
'I knew that,' he told her, snapping his fingers as if to say that had been an easy one. 'Otherwise, you would be staying at the tourist center. In which case you would have been part of a group. So that I may make plans, what is the second thing you wish to do?' he asked.
She looked at him and smiled. He smiled back. But only for a moment. Her request both surprised and confused him.
'I'd like to go back to the airport,' she said.
THIRTY-TWO
South African Airways Flight 7003 Friday, 12:03 P.M.
Something was bothering David Battat, something he could not pin down nor put from his mind.
Battat and Aideen Marley were sitting in the wide, soft seats of the 747 first-class cabin. They were in the first row along the port-side bulkhead. Battat had the aisle seat. There was nothing in front of them but upholstered wall. There was nothing to Battat's right but a permanent serving table. The flight deck was located one flight up. They did not fly first class for comfort. It was a matter of security. They were reviewing sensitive material on their laptops. The seats were far apart in first class, and Battat kept the back upright. It would be difficult for anyone to see what they were doing. He kept the overhead fan turned off so he would hear if anyone approached from behind. If they did, he had to make sure he closed the file in a slow, natural manner. He would not want to alarm a flight attendant with sudden, suspicious gestures.
