Mission of Honor

Chapter Forty-Eight

The lights of Maun vanished, swallowed by the dirt kicked up by the truck. The vehicle bounced and rocked as it made its way over the dirt roads outside the city.

The cab of the truck was dark. Maria Corneja was crowded between the driver and Leon Seronga. Pavant sat in the back of the truck. He was armed with a rifle and night-vision goggles.

Soon Leon would contact the base camp. That was when they would reach the fork that took them north to the swamp or west toward the diamond mine. Leon needed to know where Dhamballa wanted to rendezvous. One of the Brush Vipers monitored military and police bands. Seronga was certain the Vodun leader had already heard about the bishop's murder. Seronga also needed to assure Dhamballa that he had nothing to do with that.

As the truck pushed through the dark, Seronga turned to the woman seated beside him.

"Shall I introduce myself?" Seronga asked. "Or do you already know who I am?"

"You are Leon Seronga, commander of the Brush Vipers," the woman answered.

"How do you know all of that?" he asked.

"I cannot tell you," she said.

"You're not being very helpful," Seronga said.

"It's not my job to be helpful," she replied. "All you need to know is that I can help."

"By revealing who killed the bishop," Seronga said.

"I have taken steps to find out who was responsible for the shooting," Maria told him.

"Can you tell me what kind of steps?" Seronga asked.

"I took photographs at the airport," the woman replied. "I've arranged for the pictures to be analyzed. Hopefully, my colleagues will be able to trace the identity of the people involved."

"Colleagues in Spain?" Seronga pressed.

Maria did not answer.

"But you will use that information to help us?" Seronga asked.

"I said I would use the information to clear you," Maria replied, "nothing more."

"That will help us," Seronga pointed out.

Maria acted as if she had not heard. "But I will do that only if you give me what I want," she said.

"Which is?" Seronga asked.

"You must release your captive, Father Bradbury," she replied.

"What if that is not possible?" Seronga asked.

"Everything is possible," Maria replied.

"But your cooperation depends upon that?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she answered.

"Unfortunately, I do not have the authority to promise what you say is possible," Seronga informed her.

"Then get it," she said.

"That isn't going to be easy," Seronga said.

"If political upheaval were easy, everyone would do it," Maria replied. "Without my help, your movement will die within days."

"You're certain of that," he said.

"Yes." Maria looked at him. "Whoever ordered the death of the bishop wants that. Assassinating an American prelate is a harsh opening move. I can only imagine what will follow if they do not get their way."

"And you say you have no idea who they are?" Seronga said.

"None," she replied.

"Would you tell me if you did know?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted.

Seronga sat back. He gazed out the passenger-side window. A thin coat of pale mud made the moon a featureless blur. That was fitting. Nothing was in clear focus right now. Except the woman. She had the confidence of a cheetah. He turned back to her.

"What do you know about our movement?" Seronga asked.

Maria shrugged. "Not much."

"Then let me tell you," Seronga said.

"Why?" Maria asked.

"You may be swayed by the righteousness of what we are doing," he said. "I was."

"Mr. Seronga, I am from Madrid," Maria said. "I have listened to the arguments of Basque separatists and monarchists from Castile, all of it very passionate and at times persuasive. But when they break the law, I don't care what they have to say. I take them down." She looked at him. "I'm here to secure the release of Father Bradbury. That is my righteous cause. I won't be stopped. If you want my help, that is the price."

"What if cooperating with us is the only way you will survive the night?" Seronga asked. He did not like being ordered around by someone he did not yet respect.

The woman looked ahead. A moment later, she jammed her left foot on top of the driver's foot. The accelerator was crushed to the floor and the truck sped ahead. Njo Finn's shouts filled the cab as he struggled to steer. At the same time, Maria thrust her long thumbnail into the small of Seronga's throat. The nail rested just above the sternum. Seronga tried to push her back, but she used her free arm to brace herself against the driver's shoulder. That action also pinned Njo Finn against the door. The harder Seronga pushed, the more Finn was pinned. Finn could not interfere with her and steer at the same time.

Maria pushed harder on Seronga's throat. He gagged. He could feel her long nail break through his flesh.

The Brush Viper raised his hands. Maria released both men. She raised her foot from the accelerator.

"That was madness!" yelled Finn. "I almost ran into a tree!"

Pavant pounded on the back of the cab. "What happened? Is everything all right?"

"Everything is under control!" Finn shouted back. He looked at Seronga. "Isn't it?"

Seronga nodded.

Finn looked at Maria. She did not answer.

"I'll take that to be a 'yes' from the lady," Finn said.

The three sat in silence. Seronga raised his right hand slowly. He did not want to alarm her by moving quickly. He touched a finger to his throat. There was blood. He lowered his hand to his side.

"Mr. Seronga, a killer for afamilia in Spain once asked me the same question you did," Maria said. "He posed a threat veiled as a question. Well, I am here. He is with the devil."

The tone of Maria's voice was unchanged from before. This woman was as cool a warrior as Leon Seronga had ever encountered. But Seronga had been a soldier for a long time. He had nothing to prove to her or to himself. He had underestimated her. She had impulsively, foolishly put him on notice. He would not give her that kind of freedom again.

The Brush Viper had slid his right hand into the leather pouch on the door. That was where Njo Finn kept an automatic. Seronga wanted to make certain the weapon was there. It was.

Seronga relaxed and looked ahead. In a few minutes, he would call base camp for instructions.

He believed that this woman might be able to help them. He did not want to jeopardize that or hurt her. But there was too much at risk to let her determine policy.

He had already killed in the name of the faith. He had slain the two deacon missionaries.

If necessary, he would kill again.