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useless aspects of their culture. The guns, but no ammunition. What good is that?”

“Guns without ammunition can be pretty effective,” I said.

“For a short while, perhaps,” said the general with a nod. “It is the African way, isn’t it? We’re all about bluster here in Africa. Point the gun – who cares whether it’s loaded? But eventually the person you are pointing the gun at realises you don’t have the force of conviction.”

“That is why it is best to do something before anyone points a gun,” I suggested.

“In any case,” said the general, “if you see a man pointing a gun at you, the chances are they will not use it. They say that, don’t they?”

I nodded.

“I imagine you know this,” he said. “Your people told me they would send a ‘wet works’ man. Is that the kind of man you are?”

“It is, General.”

“And you have come to me with a name, despite your complications?”

“I have, sir. Although I have some reservations about the source of the name.”

“Name first. Reservations later.”

“Of course, General. The name I have been provided with is, as expected, a member of your government’s inner circle.”

“Very well. Who is it?”

“The vice president, sir.”

“That’s absurd,” exclaimed the general.

“I suspect it is. Which is why I have reservations.”

“The vice president is my greatest ally. I refuse to believe she accuses me of planning to overthrow my government.”

“I consider it more likely that the vice president was the person who tried to stop me from reaching you this morning.”

“She sent the men who fired the automatic weapons? What makes you think that?”

“Her name was given to me – in anger – by my escort. I believe he realised it was her, which caused his anger.”

“And this escort is who?”

“He is a member of her staff. I should explain, General, that my masters consider it possible that the source of this operation does not come from your government’s inner circle at all.”

“Oh? Where does it come from then?” There was a spark of anger in the general’s eyes. I knew he had been reluctant to sit in this office and wait for my arrival. It must have been a hard thing for a man of action to do. “Who else would have the gall to request foreign assistance in my assassination?”

“It has been suggested this could be the work of a lone madman. An extremist.”

“Lone madman? You mean one person? Why on earth would anyone do this?”

“The suggestion, I believe, was with the intention of sparking an international incident.”

“That’s absurd.”

“This morning’s accident renders it a little less absurd, if I may say so, General.”

“Why less absurd?”

“Because if I was here at the request of a senior member of your government, it is hard to understand why anyone – apart from you – would want to prevent me from fulfilling my task. On the other hand, they might wish to stop me if they discovered what I was doing here, and intended to prevent an incident.”

The general considered this. His anger faded as the lunacy of the idea started making sense.

“An international incident?” he said.

“A foreign assassin attempting, or succeeding, to assassinate the military leader of your country.”

“But who would know it was a foreign assassin?”

“Everyone would know if the assassin was killed in the process.”

“You think this lone madman is intending to kill you?”

“I do, General.”

“In that case, you have taken a substantial risk coming here.”

“Not very substantial. The manner of this operation has been fairly … amateurish, I think would be the word for it.”

The general laughed. “That is just the way we do things in Africa. In what way has it been amateurish?”

“My escort handed me a pistol and expected me to simply walk into these headquarters and shoot you.”

“You’ve seen our security,” said the general. “That sounds like a fairly foolproof plan to me.” His mouth puckered with amusement. “When those jihadists attacked, they threw grenades over the wall and dropped men with automatic weapons from a helicopter onto the roof. I wondered why they didn’t just walk in the front door as you did. Do you know what we discovered later? When the whole thing was over?”

I shook my head.

“That x-ray machine in the entrance had been out of order for a week. They could have simply concealed their weapons and walked in.”

I smiled.

“Amateurs can be dangerous,” pointed out the general. “You should be careful.”

“They can, but I rather imagine this amateur overestimates his skills.”

“And underestimates yours, perhaps,” said the general. “I wondered why your government wanted to send a man like you. I expected a bureaucrat, a pen pusher who would help us resolve the issue. Instead, they sent you. But it makes a little more sense to me now.”

“Perhaps because the best way to deal with a lone madman,” I said, “is to send another lone madman after him.”

“And I assume this man’s madness threatened to cause your government a good deal of embarrassment. That is the actual issue here, isn’t it?”

“It might be, sir.”

“Give me his name, I will ensure that the matter is dealt with.”

“Of course.”

The general opened the drawer of his desk again and produced a pen and a pad of paper, which he pushed over the desk towards me. I wrote Alassane’s full name, which had been helpfully provided by him on the itinerary. I returned the pad of paper and pen to the general. He read the name and nodded several times. He looked up and his eyes narrowed.

“You are not what I expected,” he said.

“What did you expect?”

“Someone less … thoughtful, I suppose. Someone who took action without thinking about it. Isn’t that what ‘wet works’ men are?”

“Too much thinking is my great weakness,” I said.

He smiled. “Can I offer you safe passage to the airport?”

“Thank you, but no.”

“I will get this man arrested. At least allow me to do that before you leave here.” He picked up an old-fashioned telephone handset that sat on his desk.

“My escort has a woman with him,” I said. “I fear for

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