Decisive by David Hickson (early reader books txt) ๐
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- Author: David Hickson
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Alassane strode around the vegetables as if he was inspecting them. Bibata removed my shirt and gingerly wiped the blood from around the cut. It was a clean tear through the skin, and would need stitches, but I showed her how to pinch the flesh and strap it tightly to stem the bleeding. Bibata was gentle, her eyes full of empathy, as if she felt the pain herself. She winced slightly with each touch of antiseptic. Her grandmother stood beside her as she worked and watched me as if trying to read something in my eyes.
After a few minutes, the grandmother said something to Bibata in a language I didnโt understand. Bibata uttered what sounded like a gentle rebuke, then looked at me and gave a tight smile, but offered no translation. The grandmother prompted Bibata, as if she wanted an answer to a question. Bibata gave a small laugh, and a slightly flirtatious glance at me.
โWhat does your grandmother want to know?โ I asked.
โShe is up to her nonsense,โ said Bibata with a smile. โIs that feeling better?โ
She had wrapped the bandage tightly, and it looked as if it would hold. I ripped a length of duct tape off the roll her grandmother had found at the back of a kitchen drawer. Bibata helped me wrap it around the bandage. That would keep the blood in if the bandage wasnโt enough.
Alassane appeared at the door, then turned back to stare at the vegetables as if they were responsible for what had happened.
โWe must get you out of here,โ he said irritably.
โWe donโt know who those men were,โ I pointed out. โWe do nothing until we have more information.โ
โThey were shooting at us,โ said Alassane. โThe general knows what you are doing here. Canโt you see that? I thought you were a professional.โ
โThose men shooting at us were not soldiers,โ I said. โIf our target knew of my presence, and purpose here, he would have sent soldiers from his army. That was not who those men were. Our operation is not prejudiced, not yet. Call in to your office, tell them that there was an accident on the road. See what information they have.โ
Alassane glared at me, then turned back to the vegetables. He pulled a phone from his pocket with irritation, tapped the screen, and held it to his ear. He stepped out of the kitchen and out of earshot. Then glanced back at me as he spoke into his phone. I wondered about the mixture of anger and fear in his face. The fear I understood. The anger I was not sure about.
Bibataโs grandmother spoke again, her eyes still on me. Bibata dismissed her comment again with a laugh.
โWhat is her question?โ I asked.
Bibataโs eyes fluttered to mine, then back to Alassane with consternation. Then she said, โMy grandmother is a little crazy sometimes. You must forgive her.โ
โIโm a little crazy myself. What is her question?โ
โShe asks whether you have decided,โ said Bibata with another glance at Alassane to confirm that he was still out of earshot.
โDecided?โ I said.
โShe says you have an important decision to make today,โ said Bibata. โI told you she is crazy.โ
I looked at her grandmother, who was still gazing at me solemnly.
โWhat decision does your grandmother suggest I make?โ I asked.
Bibata smiled, pleased perhaps that I was indulging her grandmother. She turned to her and spoke again in their language. The grandmother answered, her eyes still on me. Bibata laughed and shook her head.
โShe says you must not hesitate. That would be a bad idea.โ She laughed again. โIs the decision about a woman?โ Another flirtatious glance. โDonโt take my grandmother seriously. Everyone around here knows she is a little crazy.โ
Alassane came back into the kitchen, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his funereal jacket.
โThey know nothing,โ he announced.
โYou said there had been an accident?โ
Alassane nodded. โIt is not unusual here. The roads are not good.โ
โIs the general still expecting us?โ
Alassane watched Bibata as she held my spare shirt for me, and I carefully eased my damaged arm into it.
โYes,โ he said. โHe is still expecting you. But it would be suicidal to go there now.โ
I wondered again about the anger apparent in the way he glared at Bibata. As if dressing my wound and helping with the shirt was in some way a betrayal.
โIt is too late for regrets,โ I said. โSuicidal or not, we proceed.โ
The grandmother made us herbal tea, which was surprisingly refreshing.
โIn this heat,โ said Bibata, โa hot drink is the best thing.โ
The three of us sat on rustic wooden chairs in the kitchen to discuss our options. A sluggish movement of air came in through the open door from the vegetable patch. The grandmother stood at the gas stove where she was chopping and boiling vegetables.
โDonโt worry about her,โ said Bibata, noticing my hesitation. โShe speaks no French.โ
โI need you to tell me,โ I said, looking at Alassane, โwho else knows about this operation. Who is behind it? How many people are involved?โ
โWe should abort,โ said Alassane, as if he had not heard my question.
โLet me explain, Alassane,โ I said. โI am not a man who aborts. I have a task to complete, and there is nothing that will stop me. Not even a bunch of bandits with AK-47s.โ
Alassane closed his mouth, and his jaw muscles bulged with silent anger.
โWho else knows about this operation?โ I asked again.
โNobody else knows. Itโs the three of us, that is all.โ
โThere must be someone in the presidential office,โ I said. โOr was it you personally who discovered the generalโs plans to overthrow the government?โ
Alassane shook his head.
โWas it you who contacted the South Africans? Asked for their intervention?โ
Alassane shook his head again, then said reluctantly, โMy boss. No one else.โ
โYour boss?โ I repeated and watched his reaction. The jaw muscles bulged again. โYour boss discovered the generalโs plans?โ I asked. โYour boss put this operation together? Or was it your idea?โ
Alassane hesitated. He
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