17-02-2020, 02:07 AM
Whatever Gets You through the Night Pt. 16
"I was staying at the Westin; I was playing to a draw.
When in walked Charlton Heston with the Tablets of the Law.
He said, 'It's still the greatest story.' I said 'Man, I'd like to stay.
But I'm bound for glory; I'm on my way!
My ride's here.'"
-Warren Zevon, "My Ride's Here
"You would kill me."
The village elder scowled as David Igazi's men loaded their tribute onto his vehicles. Igazi looked the man over. He looked into the elder's eyes and spoke again.
"And if you were younger and faster, you might stand a chance."
The elder said nothing. He continued to glare at Igazi. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that he was right about the only thing preventing the old man from ending the brutal warlord on the spot. Igazi's response was to give the big, boisterous laugh he was known for before backhanding the old man and knocking him to the ground. He took one last look at the gathered villagers.
"Get some more attractive women by next tribute!" Igazi said, spitting on the man and getting into the back of his jeep. Nigel Mander watched the scene from the front passenger's seat, his AK-47 strapped to his back. Mander turned to the men and gave the signal to move out.
One of the men grabbed a woman by the wrist. Mander gave him a look that told the man exactly what he'd do to the prick if he tried to bring that woman back to base for "fun." He let go and got into the vehicle with the others. Mander turned back to the driver and nodded for him to drive off.
As they left, Mander thought he heard something hit the vehicle. He turned around and saw a boy who'd made it through the human wall the adults had made to protect the children. He looked like he'd just thrown a rock. Mander noticed that Igazi also seemed to have perceived the sound but didn't turn to look as they left the village.
Ten kilometers away from the village, Igazi stopped their caravan.
"Did that boy throw a rock at my jeep?" Igazi asked him and the driver who hadn't noticed.
"Didn't see, sir." Mander lied. "Probably not, though. Kids play sometimes."
Igazi thought a moment.
"Send half the men back to bang the entire village." He ordered Mander. "Just in case he did. Tell them not to kill anyone who doesn't make them but leave none unviolated!"
Mander thought for a moment. Igazi had given orders like this before. And Mander had worked hard to become his indispensable right-hand man for the express purpose of not being sent on "missions" like the one he'd just been ordered to tell others to carry out. Prior to that, whenever Mander could, he'd scare the children into running off onto the savannah, then rejoin the men; lying about all the banging he'd been up to while they were busy looking for the children. More than once, he'd had to whisper to a woman "If ya don't scream, they'll know I'm not doing anything to ya." And that night, when they got back to the compound and told stories of what they'd done that day, Mander would sit and laugh along with suppressed disgust at the knowledge that he was the only one lying.
He knew how the conversation would play out if he tried to convince Igazi to countermand an order he'd just given. Assuming he didn't decide to draw his pistol and shoot Mander for trying to change his mind, he'd answer that it would let every village in the region know to teach their children to show David Igazi proper respect and better than to throw rocks at his vehicle. Then Igazi would probably say something like "Kony fears David Igazi! Uongo fears David Igazi! AFRICA fears David Igazi! The WORLD must fear David Igazi! THIS is how they will LEARN!"
For what wasn't the first time today or even in the past hour, Mander thought of how easy it would be to shoot Igazi. He trusted Mander enough to let him walk around with a .44 revolver near him all day. Igazi MIGHT not see him draw and turn in time. The driver MIGHT be startled enough to do nothing before Mander shot him too, simply out of not having time to find out the driver's loyalty to the warlord the hard way. Mander then MIGHT shove him out of the seat, drive off before any of the others grasp what they just saw, collect the loot he'd been skimming and stashing for himself, and beat them to the first plane out of Africa he could find.
Then he thought of the thirty men behind them in armed Humvees and other vehicles that could outrun the jeep. And far too many guns for the four bullets he'd have left in the gun after those two or before he could ready his AK. Maybe the other rotten tossers would accept the surprise change in management or maybe they'd all open fire. Most of them whispered around the campfire that Igazi couldn't be killed by bullets and he knew they believed it. He'd prove them wrong at the cost of his own life.
That many things having to go exactly right meant that they wouldn't. Nigel Mander wasn't the sort of person who could make that exchange. He was the sort of person who took a job because he got word some nutter in the Heart of Africa wanted his own army badly enough to pay too well to care exactly WHICH African nutter it was until he was already in. Mander wanted to get out of that army alive with enough to buy an island and never have to work for fuckers like Igazi again. If he found an opportunity to stop and kill the fuck without getting killed himself on the way out the door, even better.
But this wasn't his moment to find out. The plan had too many moving parts. And if he continued to hesitate, Igazi would shoot him, then tell the driver to give the order. He thought of the woman he'd tried to save earlier from coming back with them. She was going to get far worse than if Mander had just let the prick take her back to the compound and pass her around until he could try to help her escape. And his finding the will to sacrifice himself over principle wouldn't change a bit of it.
Mander got on the radio and gave the order.
* * *
"I was staying at the Westin; I was playing to a draw.
When in walked Charlton Heston with the Tablets of the Law.
He said, 'It's still the greatest story.' I said 'Man, I'd like to stay.
But I'm bound for glory; I'm on my way!
My ride's here.'"
-Warren Zevon, "My Ride's Here
"You would kill me."
The village elder scowled as David Igazi's men loaded their tribute onto his vehicles. Igazi looked the man over. He looked into the elder's eyes and spoke again.
"And if you were younger and faster, you might stand a chance."
The elder said nothing. He continued to glare at Igazi. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that he was right about the only thing preventing the old man from ending the brutal warlord on the spot. Igazi's response was to give the big, boisterous laugh he was known for before backhanding the old man and knocking him to the ground. He took one last look at the gathered villagers.
"Get some more attractive women by next tribute!" Igazi said, spitting on the man and getting into the back of his jeep. Nigel Mander watched the scene from the front passenger's seat, his AK-47 strapped to his back. Mander turned to the men and gave the signal to move out.
One of the men grabbed a woman by the wrist. Mander gave him a look that told the man exactly what he'd do to the prick if he tried to bring that woman back to base for "fun." He let go and got into the vehicle with the others. Mander turned back to the driver and nodded for him to drive off.
As they left, Mander thought he heard something hit the vehicle. He turned around and saw a boy who'd made it through the human wall the adults had made to protect the children. He looked like he'd just thrown a rock. Mander noticed that Igazi also seemed to have perceived the sound but didn't turn to look as they left the village.
Ten kilometers away from the village, Igazi stopped their caravan.
"Did that boy throw a rock at my jeep?" Igazi asked him and the driver who hadn't noticed.
"Didn't see, sir." Mander lied. "Probably not, though. Kids play sometimes."
Igazi thought a moment.
"Send half the men back to bang the entire village." He ordered Mander. "Just in case he did. Tell them not to kill anyone who doesn't make them but leave none unviolated!"
Mander thought for a moment. Igazi had given orders like this before. And Mander had worked hard to become his indispensable right-hand man for the express purpose of not being sent on "missions" like the one he'd just been ordered to tell others to carry out. Prior to that, whenever Mander could, he'd scare the children into running off onto the savannah, then rejoin the men; lying about all the banging he'd been up to while they were busy looking for the children. More than once, he'd had to whisper to a woman "If ya don't scream, they'll know I'm not doing anything to ya." And that night, when they got back to the compound and told stories of what they'd done that day, Mander would sit and laugh along with suppressed disgust at the knowledge that he was the only one lying.
He knew how the conversation would play out if he tried to convince Igazi to countermand an order he'd just given. Assuming he didn't decide to draw his pistol and shoot Mander for trying to change his mind, he'd answer that it would let every village in the region know to teach their children to show David Igazi proper respect and better than to throw rocks at his vehicle. Then Igazi would probably say something like "Kony fears David Igazi! Uongo fears David Igazi! AFRICA fears David Igazi! The WORLD must fear David Igazi! THIS is how they will LEARN!"
For what wasn't the first time today or even in the past hour, Mander thought of how easy it would be to shoot Igazi. He trusted Mander enough to let him walk around with a .44 revolver near him all day. Igazi MIGHT not see him draw and turn in time. The driver MIGHT be startled enough to do nothing before Mander shot him too, simply out of not having time to find out the driver's loyalty to the warlord the hard way. Mander then MIGHT shove him out of the seat, drive off before any of the others grasp what they just saw, collect the loot he'd been skimming and stashing for himself, and beat them to the first plane out of Africa he could find.
Then he thought of the thirty men behind them in armed Humvees and other vehicles that could outrun the jeep. And far too many guns for the four bullets he'd have left in the gun after those two or before he could ready his AK. Maybe the other rotten tossers would accept the surprise change in management or maybe they'd all open fire. Most of them whispered around the campfire that Igazi couldn't be killed by bullets and he knew they believed it. He'd prove them wrong at the cost of his own life.
That many things having to go exactly right meant that they wouldn't. Nigel Mander wasn't the sort of person who could make that exchange. He was the sort of person who took a job because he got word some nutter in the Heart of Africa wanted his own army badly enough to pay too well to care exactly WHICH African nutter it was until he was already in. Mander wanted to get out of that army alive with enough to buy an island and never have to work for fuckers like Igazi again. If he found an opportunity to stop and kill the fuck without getting killed himself on the way out the door, even better.
But this wasn't his moment to find out. The plan had too many moving parts. And if he continued to hesitate, Igazi would shoot him, then tell the driver to give the order. He thought of the woman he'd tried to save earlier from coming back with them. She was going to get far worse than if Mander had just let the prick take her back to the compound and pass her around until he could try to help her escape. And his finding the will to sacrifice himself over principle wouldn't change a bit of it.
Mander got on the radio and gave the order.
* * *
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