The First End (10 page)

Bol regarded the ex-marine steadily. Finally he
nodded.

Bill still had the soldier by the wrist. He let
go and shoved the man away. Turning, he found Lorna already
assisting the girl up from the dirt. He knelt down and turned his
most disarming smile on the girl. “Don’t worry. We aren’t going to
hurt you,” he said in his best Arabic. She looked quizzical at
first, and then repeated what he had said, correcting his grammar.
He nodded. “Thank you. What is your name?”

“Marwa,” she said shyly. She didn’t look as
frightened now. He judged that to be a good thing.

“Hello Marwa.” He nodded to the lighter which
she clutched tightly to her chest. “Do you plan to sell the
lighter?” She nodded slowly, suddenly suspicious. He laughed. “No,
sweetheart, I’m not going to take it from you. It is yours to
sell.” She relaxed again. “I have some things to sell too,” he
said. “I hear that a man by the name of Korfa is a good man to do
business with. Is this so?”

Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. She
nodded. “Korfa doesn’t cheat us as badly as some of the others do.
But he doesn’t always buy everything. He only wants the good stuff.
You have good stuff?”

“I have some good stuff,” he assured her. “Where
can I find him.”

She pointed in a generally easterly direction.
“Two streets over. Look for a shop painted blue. It’s the only
one.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Marwa. Where are your
parents?”

Her eyes shifted off to one side. “Dead,” she
said in a half whisper. She turned and darted into the crowd,
moving in the direction of the platform.

“Well,” Lorna said, moving next to him. “We now
know where Korfa is.”

“Better than nothing,” he agreed. For a few
seconds he watched as the girl expertly dodged around the revelers,
making fast her escape. He silently wished her luck.

An explosion rocked the ground under Bill’s
feet. He staggered and then fell over as someone in turn fell into
him. He landed hard, but shot to his feet almost the instant he hit
the ground. His ears rang from the explosion, so everything seemed
muffled by the high pitched ring.

Where the platform had been, a large plume of
black smoke rolled into the air. People were screaming, crying, and
shouting. Those at the fringes of the explosion stood for a few
moments in stunned disbelief. It wore off quickly, and suddenly the
entire square became a sea of chaos as people panicked, running any
which direction in their efforts to get away from the source of the
explosion.

As people cleared out, Bill could see people
lying on the ground. Some rocked back and forth in obvious pain
while others lay perfectly still. Too still. The smell of blood and
mud mixed with the smoke, searing his nostrils with the foul odor.
He glanced around for Lorna and found her climbing shakily to her
feet. She yelled something, but the lawyer shook his head, pointing
to his ears. She nodded, but Gardner felt tremendous relief that
his partner was okay.

Then he remembered the girl, Marwa. She had run
towards the platform just before it exploded. He started to move
into the sea of destruction, desperately hoping he would not find
her among the wounded and dead. He stepped over one woman, who
grabbed feebly at his ankle, her other hand missing and blood
pulling around the wound. Bill defied the rules and traditions to
rescue the lady. He knelt and ripped off part of the injured
woman’s skirt and quickly bound the wound lest she bleed to
death.

Several bodies lay nearby, pierced through with
wood fragments from the platform. And then he saw her. Marwa’s body
rested near a man’s body. Blood ran in a thin trickle from her
mouth, and her eyes looked surprised, as if death hadn’t been part
of her escape plan when she had run from the strange American. In
her hand, she still clutched the useless lighter.

Bill sat back and pulled his knees up to his
chest. An unbidden tear escaped one eye and traced a dirty track
down his cheek. He had seen death and destruction before…more than
he ever wanted to relive. But he could never get used to sights
like this—children, their lives cut short to further the selfish
and greedy ends of wicked men. He stared at the motionless body for
long moments, until a dirty and blood stained hand fell on his
shoulder.

He looked up into Lorna’s concerned face. “Are
you alright?”

He blinked. His hearing had returned and the
ringing had faded into a small irritation. “I got out of the
military because of things like this,” he said softly. “I don’t
understand it.”

She sat down next to him, watching as men and
women started to pick their way through the death and destruction.
Some were clearly there to help the wounded, while others took
advantage of the situation to scavenge the dead. Bill didn’t have
the energy to help the first or run off the second. He felt little
comfort in Lorna’s presence.

“This is why I stay in,” she said at last.
“Someone has to try and stop this madness.”

Bill shook his head. “Why? Why do this?”

Lorna’s voice lowered. “I think Luk Bol did
it.”

The lawyer’s head snapped around. “What?”

“Remember? He sent two of his men off towards
the Mayor. He didn’t look too happy with what the Mayor was
saying.”

Gardner surged to his feet, murder in his eyes.
Luk Bol had wondered off to the edge of the square where he now sat
on a short wall, watching the results of the carnage his men had
created—and no doubt to keep an eye on the two Americans. Bill took
one step before Lorna jerked hard on his arm, pulling him
around.

“Don’t,” she snapped. “If you attack him, his
men will kill us.”

The only thing that stopped Bill from jerking
his arm out and heading over to break Bol’s neck was that Lorna
would surely die along with him. He stood, trembling as adrenaline,
anger, and helplessness warred in his body and heart. Finally, he
relaxed and nodded once. “Let’s find Korfa and get this over
with.”

There was no way they could keep a low profile
now. The explosion had made the entire city nervous, and a convoy
of armed men didn’t help. People scattered at their approach,
disappearing like bats exposed to sudden light.

“Pull over,” he said, irritated, as they neared
where Marwa had indicated Korfa’s store to be located.

Lorna glanced over, but did as requested. Bol’s
men pulled over behind them. “What’s the problem,” Lorna asked.

“Korfa will disappear the moment he sees these
idiots with guns!” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We need
to ditch these clowns and talk to Korfa alone. Course, I would just
love to kill everyone one of the murdering whoremongers.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel. What do you
propose?”

“We need to get away from the vehicles too.
Everyone around here knows that only men with guns have a working
vehicle.” Bill hopped out of the jeep. “We’re going to have to
walk, and we’re going to have to do it without an escort.”

Lorna followed more slowly. “You’re the boss,
boss. But isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

“Probably, but we’ll never find any answers like
this.” He turned and walked back to where Luk Bol sat, idly
fingering his automatic weapon and eyeing the American dangerously.
Bill had to repeat to himself not to kill the man. “Look, buddy, my
partner and I are going to walk from here. How can we contact you
when we are finished?”

The mercenary’s face was a study in sulkiness.
The man’s bald head glistened in the heat, and somewhere, someone
or something had chewed off his left ear, leaving a mass of scar
tissue and a small hole where the ear used to be. His eyes
narrowed, causing long wrinkles to appear on his face. “No. We are
to be going with you.”

Bill waved the comment aside. “That won’t work.
People are hiding from you. Scared. Big explosion, remember? I
can’t find the murderers of those children unless I can talk to
people. Give me one of your radios and I’ll call you once we are
finished.

Luk obviously didn’t believe a word of it. He
shook his head. “No. You can’t be going alone. It be too dangerous,
man.”

The lawyer frowned. He detected a bit of a South
African accent from the mercenary. How odd. He paused to consider
his options. No doubt Bol had been ordered not to allow the
Americans to leave his sight, which made sense. Bill would have
done the same thing if Luk Bol had come to America, but with all
the fear in the city, he needed to do something. “Fine. One of your
men may go with us. But he can’t carry one of those.” Bill tapped
the weapon Bol held. “Concealed sidearm only.”

The slobbering lips of the mercenary seemed to
dry up noticeably as he sucked them into his mouth in thought.
Finally he nodded. “I’ll be going with you then.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Bill turned and started back
towards Lorna. The woman looked calm, but the slight shift in her
stance spoke of edginess. “Okay,” he said for her ears alone. “I
got rid of most of the riffraff.”

She noticed Bol handing over his rifle to one of
his subordinates and checking his sidearm. “Looks like we got the
king of riffraff coming though.”

Bill glanced back, his expression dark. “Well,
you know, we can’t have everything in life. But if I get have a
chance, I’m going to…”

“Keep a lid on it,” she replied. “If he ends up
dead, we’ll never get out of the country. Not alive anyway.”

Bill’s lips thinned in frustration. Finally, he
shrugged. “I think he thinks this is a waste of time—our hunt
anyway. He probably believes us to be spies.”

“Exactly what would we be spying on?” she asked,
rolling her eyes.

“Exactly.”

When Bol caught up to them, the trio set out
into the town. Immediately, they began to see more people. Every
pair of eyes held deep suspicion, but they didn’t disappear or run
away as Bill approached, though they intentionally kept their
distance. From the few people he did see, he spotted an older man
who sat in the shade of a doorway.

“Good sir, I’m looking for a man named Korfa,”
he said, addressing the man in his spotty Arabic.

The man wielded a dull knife and was carving
away at a piece of wood. Without looking up, he shook his head. “I
don’t know any Korfa,” he said—or at least he thought that was what
the man said.

Bol frowned and moved forward, no doubt to try
more physical means of extracting the information. Bill cut him
off, giving him a dangerous glare. “Try to interfere in my business
again and I goddamn guarantee you a trip out of this sorry land in
a body bag!” Bol didn’t react.“He would be a seller of…items…” he
continued with the old man, trying hard to remember his Arabic. “I
have something to sell.”

The old man looked up briefly, taking in the
faces of the three who confronted him. The lawyer had no doubt that
he had correctly sized-up his unwanted guests up. He pointed down
the street with his knife. “That way.”

Thanking him, the trio moved on down the road.
It took time, but eventually they found the blue building that
Marwa had mentioned. The shop was a seedy place, not too far from
the landfill. Piles of junk lined a narrow walkway that meandered,
more or less, down the center of the small building. Branches in
the path led to more of the piled junk. Bill couldn’t see anyone,
so he yelled, “Korfa!”

“Here!” came the response in Arabic. The voice
sounded as if it had come from the back of the shop.

Shrugging, Bill moved ahead, followed closely by
Lorna and Luk Bol. They took three wrong turns before finding a way
to a short counter where a middle aged man sat looking at several
pieces of metal before him. He wore a white, grease stained apron,
small spectacles, and a long beard—equally stained. He glanced up
at his visitors and switched to English. “Ah! Americans! So glad
you come to my humble shop. Best shop in city! Best deals! You
buy?”

Once again, the ex-marine had to step in front
of Bol before the mercenary could get close to the shop owner. The
man had a one track mind.

“Yes,” the lawyer said, leaning up against the
counter and pulling a wad of money from his pocket. The man’s eyes
grew round with greed and a small twitch developed near his right
eye. “I want to buy some information. I was told you may know what
I want to know.”

The man put his hand on his chest. “If Korfa
know, you will know,” he promised, never taking his eyes from the
wad of bills.

“Excellent.” Bill peeled one of the bills off
and set it on the counter, not taking his hand away. “Two boys were
brutally murdered and then burned in the landfill a week ago or so.
I was told that you might know something about it.”

“Very sad, very tragic,” Korfa said, pulling the
bill from out of Bill’s grasp and making it disappear under his
apron. “I knew the boys.”

“Do you know why they were killed?”

The man stayed silent, staring back at Bill and
wearing an infernal smile that radiated greed. Bill sidestepped Luk
Bol again, giving him a withering look. “I’ll handle this.” He
turned back to the shop owner and placed another bill on the
counter. “Do you?”

The man took the bill and shook his head. “No.
One boy tried to sell me worthless metal same day killed.”

Lorna stepped up. “Do you mean that one of the
two murdered boys had tried to sell you something the same day he
was killed?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?” she asked.

He remained silent until another bill hand been
deposited on the counter. “I do not know what it was. This big.” He
held his hands out. “Black…very heavy. Worthless.”

“Why was it worthless?”

“No open. Just metal.”

Bill thought. “Was there any writing or markings
on it?”

Korfa nodded.

“What?” he asked, handing over another bill.

“Symbol and writing. English.”