CHAPTER 3: The Path
Quesada stood in the middle of the compound, his face lifted to an azure sky in which the only scar on its surface from one horizon to the other was the relentless glare of the mid-afternoon equatorial sun. Arms outstretched and his feet widespread, he indulged in a lengthy, self-contented grunt and looked over to where Pelops was briefing the next watch of their hired militia.
‘Pelops, mi amigo, I just have learned it, on the very good authority of Mr Agumbi, that your mister Rebel and his damn nuisance amigo from Domino are in Matadi and they make preparation to continue their search for us.’
The German concluded his instructions to the mercenaries, turned and with a sharp, Teutonic click of his heels strode over to talk with the Colombian, giving a far less self-c
