from Paris. ‘I say, this time… this time you’ve finally lost it.’
‘No, Tom, you have. All the pills and…’
Cooper jumped in. ‘Those pills are legit, Maddie. Prescribed from my shrink. They help me sleep, okay?’
‘Don’t kid yourself, Tom. You can’t do without them or…’ She trailed off and Cooper looked at her curiously.
‘Or what?’
‘… Or without the memory of her.’
Cooper rubbed his head. ‘Jesus, has this all been about Ell… about… you know…’
‘Oh my God. You can’t say it, can you? You can’t even say her name.’
‘Of course I can.’
‘Then say it, Tom… I need to hear you say her name.’
‘Why?’
‘Why? You don’t think it’s strange that after all this time, after eight years you can’t say it? You’ve made her almost sacrosanct.’
‘That’s a dumb thing to say.’
‘Is it? Because God knows when we were together all you did was worship her. It was like living with a ghost, haunting every moment of what we did. How did you think it made me feel when I listened to you call her name in your sleep instead of mine? Or when I saw her things neatly boxed in the attic, like you were waiting for her to return.’
‘It’s all I had left.’
‘No it wasn’t, Tom, you had me but you never thought about that. You never thought about me.’
‘Jesus, this is crazy.’
‘It’s not, and God help me, I hate her more now that she’s dead than when she was alive.’
‘Maddie, what’s the matter with you?’
‘I just want you to say her name…Say it.’
‘You’re not thinking straight.’
‘Just say it.’
‘Look, what’s the big deal?’
‘Then say her fucking name.’
Cooper kicked the car. Felt the pain. ‘I can’t. Okay. I can’t…You happy now?’
Maddie blinked. Then blinked some more. This time it wasn’t the wind. Nor the dust. Nor the scorch of the sun in her eyes. This time they were tears. Tears which seemed to come straight from her heart. And as she watched the heatwaves rise up from the road ahead she took a deep breath and quietly said, ‘Come on, I’ll drive you home…’
FIVE MILES OUTSIDE GOROM-GOROM,
BURKINA FASO, WEST AFRICA
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The corpses burnt. Piled up high. Women on top of men and men on top of women and the bodies of the children blistered and charred as the greed of the fire reached them, devouring the flesh as they lay at the highest point, like a peak on a mountaintop, forming a summit built of the dead.
And the fire spat out its smells and sent up black smoke which twisted and clouded, warping the sky of its light.
The young soldier standing nearby yawned, then smiled as he finally managed to work out it was a picture of Mickey Mouse on the boy’s T-shirt. With his curiosity now satisfied, he threw the lifeless body into the burning flames. This was the last village. At least for now. The area had been cleared. All the houses, buildings and churches were nothing but ash, and now all that was needed was to wait for more instructions.
WASHINGTON, D.C.
USA
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The usual sound and visual recording in the ‘sit’ room was turned off. The only people left were Chuck Harrison, and Woods’ Chief of Staff and long-term trusted friend, Edward ‘Teddy’ Adleman as well as Lyndon Clark, Secretary of State, a tall, poised straight-talking black man.
Clearing his throat, Woods said, ‘This better be good, Chuck. You better have a damn good reason for having the bomber in your custody so I can appease, or at least try to appease, the FBI.’
Chuck, also clearing his throat – a side effect of the intense vigor of the air-con – said, ‘Before I start, Mr President, can I just confirm our prisoner transfer meeting is still going ahead on Friday? I think I’m probably correct in thinking it’ll be a ghost meeting so I won’t be able to get my staff to confirm it via the presidential memoranda. As I said last week, it is a matter of urgency that we look at the current approaches to prisoners like Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad.’
‘Chuck, we need to get on with this, but to answer your question, yes it is going ahead, though and as I said last week to you, prisoner transfer and release of terrorists – particularly terrorists such as Bin Hamad – is no longer this administration’s policy. We do not negotiate with Al Qaeda or their off-shoots. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re on the clock…’
With just a single blink, and not – and never – giving away his feelings unless there were deliberate and strategic motives, Chuck nodded. ‘Okay, well as we know, Boko Haram, whose official Arabic name is…
Lyndon Clark interrupted: ‘Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad.’
Chuck cut Lyndon a hard stare. ‘Exactly. Which loosely translates to…’
‘People Committed to the Propagation of the Prophet’s Teachings and Jihad.’
‘Lyndon, would you like to take this meet?’
‘If you like.’
Chuck, not for the first time, wondered what Woods had been trying to prove putting another colored man in such a high-ranking role. First it was Teddy and now Lyndon. It was bullshit, because there’d also be an agenda. Lyndon would always be running round needing to prove something. Proving he was as up to the job as the white man. Proving he wasn’t selling the African-Americans out with his policies. Proving above and beyond anything else – including and especially being a colored man – he was first and foremost a citizen of the United States who loved his country like the founding fathers had.
Chuck smiled. Didn’t reach his eyes. Didn’t reach any part of him. ‘There’s nothing to prove here, Lyndon.’
Lyndon Clark touched his small goatee beard. Sneered. Which met his eyes. Which met every damn part of him. ‘I’m not following you, Chuck. Care to expand?’
‘What I mean is. It won’t make any difference to the way I feel about you or how you’re doing your job.’
Woods looked at Chuck. Then Lyndon. Eyes fixed on each other. Bolted together. Felt like he could go right on and cut the air in two with a scythe. ‘Chuck, continue with what we’re here for.’
‘Certainly, Mr President, and just to refresh, Boko Haram – as we all know – were founded in 2002, though they didn’t really launch military operations until 2009. They’re a rebel group and self-professed Islamist movement, based mainly in northeast Nigeria, though there are offshoots in Chad, Niger and Cameroon. Recently they’ve stepped up the wave of suicide bombings, mass attacks on villages, including looting and killing, forcibly conscripting men and boys, and of course there’s also the abduction of women and children. Especially girls. I’m sure everyone remembers the international outrage and the campaign in 2014 when they abducted more than two hundred schoolgirls from Chibok town in Borno state.’