“Russians?” Nuri switched to English as well. “They’re supplying you now?”
Gerard said nothing.
“They do give good prices,” admitted Nuri. The dealer might or might not be Russian; anyone from Eastern Europe was likely to be considered a Russian — Poles, Ukrainians, Georgians. All were more likely candidates, and most likely operating on their own. When he was last here, the
Gerard remained silent.
“And the government — have they been giving you much trouble?” Nuri asked.
“They are monkeys,” said Gerard. “Imbecilic monkeys.”
“Yes.”
“What would be of use to us would be medicines,” he said. “Aspirin would be a very good thing.”
“Aspirin? Of course. Yes. I believe I could arrange to find some of that. For the clinic?”
“The clinic is run by thieves,” said Gerard. “We have established a new one.”
“What other medicines?” asked Nuri.
Gerard rose. He moved stiffly, but compared to how Nuri had found him, he was a dynamo.
“I will take you to talk to the doctor. We will go in your car.”
Danny followed Nuri to the Mercedes. Gerard, the girl, and the two guards came as well. They got into the back with Boston, while Nuri took his place up front. Danny didn’t like that — it was far too dangerous, he thought — but there was no way to tell Nuri that.
Gerard gave directions from the back in French. Nuri translated them into African, and MY-PID — connected via the team radio — retranslated to English.
The directions took them to a single story building that looked very much like an American double-wide trailer.
“Wait in the car,” Nuri said as the others got out.
“No way,” said Danny.
They exchanged a glance. Nuri frowned, but didn’t protest when Danny followed him inside the building.
They were met near the door by a black woman in her early twenties. She was enthusiastic and friendly, and clearly didn’t speak the local language — she fumbled worse than Nuri did over the greeting.
“Do you speak English?” she asked. She had a British accent; Nuri pegged her as a volunteer, here to do her part for world peace.
“Certainly, Doctor,” Nuri answered.
“I am not a doctor,” she said, leading them through the crowded reception room. “I am just a nurse. Marie Bloom.”
“I’m sorry. Gerard introduced you as a doctor.”
“I think they use the word for anyone with a medical interest.” She smiled at Gerard, nodding. “He has been very good to us. You are here to see our clinic?”
“We may be able to supply some medicines for you,” said Nuri. “Through Gerard’s generosity. If I knew what it was you needed.”
“Oh that would be wonderful. Let me show you around.”
The two examining rooms were austere, furnished with basic tables and some cabinets. There were two rooms with beds where patients could rest, a pair of small offices, and a storeroom. A dozen people, all women or children, were being seen by two aides, both locals whom Marie had trained. They had been open only a few weeks, said Marie, but already had seen a number of difficult cases, including many patients with AIDS.
“We are going to be involved in a program,” she said. “But for now, we send those with AIDS to the capital. We can’t really help.”
“What about the other clinic in town?” Nuri asked.
Marie glanced at Gerard before answering.
“Many people won’t go there.”
That had to be because the other clinic was associated with Sudan First. The friction between the two groups was new.
Most likely it wasn’t serious, or Gerard would not have been in the city center. But you could never tell.
“Give me a list of what you can use,” said Nuri as the tour ended. “And I will see what I can do.”
Nuri led Danny back to the car without Gerard and his small entourage. Boston was in the driver’s seat; Danny got in the back.
“Why didn’t you ask about the UAV?” asked Danny as Boston backed out onto the road.
“The time wasn’t right,” said Nuri.
“Why not?”
“Let me handle this, all right? We have to get this medicine.”
“That’ll take weeks.”
“No. They just want over-the-counter drugs mostly. I’ll fly to Egypt and buy it. It’s all simple stuff. The clinic’s a gold mine of information. If we could find a way to talk to some of the women who are waiting to see someone, we can figure out what’s going on.”
“It’s not worth waiting,” said Danny. “The longer we wait, the better the odds someone else will come and get in the way. We can take two men out pretty easily.”
The sun had set; Boston turned on the headlights and found that only one worked, and only on high.
“I know we have different approaches to things,” Nuri told him after a few minutes of driving in silence. “But I don’t think there’s any harm in waiting.”
“I agree giving medicine to these people is a good thing,” said Danny. “But we can give it to them after the operation. My orders are to recover the UAV as quickly as I can. We’re going in tonight.”
“The only reason I’m giving it to them is so we can recover the UAV with a minimum of fuss,” said Nuri. “I don’t really care about helping them.”
“That hardly cements your argument.”
“Well it’s true. Listen, if we can do it with a minimum of fuss—”
“We can,” said Danny. “We go tonight.”
Chapter 8
In the end Li Han solved the problem like he solved many problems: shortly after sunset, he had Amara bring him three teenage boys, gave them each five American dollars, and told them he would give the first to return with the proper cord another twenty dollars.
Amara predicted they would have a cord by morning. Instead, all three of the boys returned within the hour. One had a cord with RCA plugs; the other two, however, had found network cables. Which building in town they’d stolen them from was irrelevant to Li Han; he paid both young men as promised.
“You should give that one something as well,” suggested Amara as the other two were paid. “Having an angry thief in the city is not a good thing.”
“Yes,” said Li Han, nodding. It was a wise suggestion; Amara had more intelligence than he’d thought. He gave the boy three dollars in consolation, then watched as Amara explained.
Amara spoke English as well as Arabic and the local lingo, but there was something else about him. He had a curiosity about him that the others lacked, and he seemed to put it to good use. Perhaps he could be useful.
“Are you good with computers?” Li Han asked him when the boy was gone.
“I use them for e-mail. The Web, that is all,” answered Amara.
