The president waved a hand at the laptop screen. ‘If he considers me such a good friend, he can tell me himself.’
‘I’m sure he will look forward to doing that, sir. Once this situation with the Russians has been resolved.’
Seguma stared at a spot on the wall. As if he was squinting at a rainbow in the distance and trying to figure out what was at the end of it: a pot of gold, or something a lot less promising.
‘You won’t lose any of your privileges,’ the Voice continued. ‘You’ll get to keep your overseas properties, your Swiss bank accounts and the rest of it. But we can’t let you retire in luxury, sir. Not with the Russians knocking on the door.’
‘And if I agree to your proposal? What then?’
‘We’ll sign off on the deployment of the UKSF teams to Karatandu at once. They’ll nip the rebellion in the bud, before the enemy can gain control of the infrastructure. In the meantime, we’ll fly you via private jet to Libreville, Gabon. A team of diplomats will be sent over from London. They’ll accompany you.’
‘I should stay here,’ Seguma protested. ‘Where it is safer.’
‘You can’t, sir.’
‘Why not?’
‘Optics. It’s not a good look if you’re photographed sitting in a luxury apartment in Monaco, while your own soldiers are busy fighting a rebel army.’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ he replied glumly.
‘This is the right move, sir. Flying to Gabon will put pressure on the rebels. You’ll be a hundred miles across the border from your capital, holding press conferences, issuing statements, projecting an image of strength. It’ll boost morale on the ground.’
‘I’ll need protection.’
‘We’ll arrange that, sir.’
‘General Kakuba will have to be dealt with as well. He has many devoted followers. My regime won’t be secure as long as he is free.’
‘Of course,’ the Voice said.
‘This is a good deal,’ Mallet said. ‘You won’t get a better one.’
Seguma didn’t reply. He stared at the gold crown on his cane, his face stricken with indecision.
‘Mr President, we’re running out of time,’ the Voice said. ‘We need an answer now.’
Seguma raised his eyes to the laptop. He took a deep breath, nodded.
‘Very well. I’ll go back. But on one condition.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
‘You need to protect my family.’
‘Are they in danger?’ asked Casey.
‘The Russians threatened to kill them if I did not cooperate.’
Webb said, ‘Why would they target your family?’
The president stared at him as if he was mad. ‘My relatives are some of the most important people in the country. My brother is the vice-president. His wife is the head of the Women’s League in Karatandu. My wife is the party secretary. They are my closest allies. The rebels would do anything to get rid of them.’
The Voice said, ‘Where are they now?’
‘In Karatandu. At my palace in the capital, Marafeni.’
‘Who else is there?’
‘My children. My newborn son. My nieces. Some of my cabinet ministers. No one else.’
‘What are they doing there?’
‘It’s the only safe place in the city. They’ve been holed up there for the past few days, making radio broadcasts denouncing the protestors, running the country in my absence.’
‘Why didn’t they leave with you, sir?’ asked Bowman.
‘I couldn’t take the risk. I needed to keep them in place while I met with the Russians. Otherwise my enemies might have realised what was going on with my plans.’ He rubbed his brow. ‘You must protect them.’
‘The Russians would want them out of the picture, that’s for sure,’ Mallet agreed. ‘The army would throw in the towel double-quick.’
‘There’s another reason they would be interested in my family,’ Seguma said quietly.
‘Aye? What’s that?’
Seguma looked down at the cane on his lap. ‘Some of my relatives, they know my secrets. The Russians might put them on trial. They could use them to spread lies and discredit me.’
He spoke in a cold, impersonal tone. Bowman had the impression the president seemed more interested in his political credibility than the welfare of his loved ones.
‘You must protect my family,’ Seguma said. He lifted his eyes to the laptop. ‘That is non-negotiable. I will not return to my country unless you can guarantee their safety.’
He leaned back, his arms folded across his ample chest. The Voice was silent for so long Bowman thought the connection had been lost. Then it spoke up in its train-station-announcement tone.
‘Mr Seguma is correct. The security of his family is of paramount importance. Their capture, or worse, would represent a major victory for General Kakuba and his Russian backers. We cannot allow that to happen.’ There was another pause. ‘There’s only one thing for it.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Mallet.
‘You’re going to have to get over to Karatandu,’ the Voice said. ‘Locate the president’s family and protect them at all costs. Before the Russians get to them first.’
Seventeen
The four members of the Cell looked round at one another. No one said anything for what felt like a long while but in reality was no more than five or six seconds.
Casey broke the silence. ‘Why us?’ she asked.
‘Because there’s no one else,’ the Voice replied.
‘What about those other SF teams? The ones going in to sort out the rebellion?’
‘The SAS squadron is currently on an operation in Libya. That’s D Squadron. Those fellows have got to get back to base, refit, get a full briefing and then fly down to Karatandu. That will take time. Twenty hours or so.’
‘And the other units? SFSG, SBS?’
‘They’re scheduled to fly down from their respective bases in the UK and link up with D Squadron in Libya. We’re expecting both teams to arrive in Tripoli shortly before midnight. They’ll depart at one o’clock in the morning, local time. Libya is an hour ahead of Karatandu. Flight time is a little under six hours. Which means the combined SF force won’t land in Karatandu until tomorrow morning. By that time, it might be too late. The
