The Carolina Coup: Another Rwandan Genocide? (The Jeannine Ryan Series Book 4)
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Jeannine knew about Denise’s good looks. She had seen her photograph in the briefcase. She stared at the phone.
“How did they get together?”
Stew collected his thoughts.
“I wouldn’t know. When they saved me from Gutera, I was only half conscious.”
He added.
“She helped Bill escape from Jack Marino and the FBI at Topsail Beach. I followed her into a trap set by Gutera’s men. Look, I’m all mixed up. They saved me. I don’t know what to say.”
At her silence, he changed the topic.
“Jeannine, if you know where Bill is now you must tell me. The plot he has uncovered is real. Besides, he needs to clear himself if he can. And why is he with Denise Guerry?”
She wanted to know the answer to that herself!
“I don’t know where Bill is, but he will surely go to Charleston. That’s where Gutera will be.”
He was silent. After a moment, she made her decision.
“Stew I have to be in Charleston this evening to meet someone. Are you able to travel? Would you come with me?”
Would he!
“I can come, but I can’t drive.”
“I’ll do that. I’m parked outside the hospital. If you come down now, we’ll leave right away.”
A stunned Stew shed his slippers and put on his shoes. He left them untied and slipped into the corridor.
No one! And the nurse at the station had her head down.
He entered the stairwell and started down the stairs.
Despite his aches, he was a happy man. He would be with Jeannine. And she liked him, or at least trusted him.
***
At the library in Summerville, South Carolina, Bill Hamm searched for Denise Guerry in the stacks. He found her at a computer in a secluded cubicle. She was staring at an encoded email.
He watched as she took a thumb drive from the pocket of her jeans, and inserted it into the library’s computer. She tapped a key. The decoded message appeared on the screen.
d.g.la|lutte|captain|
is|french,|but|hutu|
sympathizer|captain|
of|etoile|d'afrique|
is|hutu|and|loyal|to|
maximilien|gutera|
his|crew|hutu|too.|at|
mombasa|paid|german|
techs|to|finish|
assembly|and|smuggle|
rockets|to|southern|
rwanda.launch|from|
there.jacobin|5|m|
“Denise, who is Jacobin5. What’s this about?”
“Jacobin5 is my cousin. He can be a pain, but we trust each other. He doesn’t like his father, my uncle, any more than I do. I hoped we could call the captain of La Lutte and stop him from offloading the radioactive modules, so I sent my cousin a message. This is the answer.”
She looked up at him.
“The captain of the La Lutte is committed to Gutera. He would never cooperate with us. And the Étoile d’Afrique is loyal to Gutera too. We can’t stop the modules from reaching Mombasa.”
“But in Mombasa, maybe we could pay the German techs to not complete the rocket assemblies?”
“They are strictly independent mercenaries, chosen because they’re not French. We could never outbid my uncle’s Euros.”
The computer dinged. Another email had arrived.
“Denise, what are these numbers?”
“I’m not sure. It must be another message from my cousin. I’ll decrypt it.”
She typed rapidly on the keyboard. After a few moments the decrypted message appeared.
d.g.|uncle|roland|
furious|with|you|he|
wants|you|back|in|
france|tds|what|did|
you|do|to|him?||
watch|your|step.|
he|is|dangerous.|
jacobin|5||31ww.ff
Bill read fast.
“What does ‘tds’ mean?”
“It stands for ‘tout de suite.’ It means ‘right away.’ My uncle wants me back in France, now! That’s not good.”
She set her lips and continued.
“Maximilien knows I killed Jules and that I’m with you. He has told SÉGAG. I’m a danger to them, and a problem for my uncle too.”
Her eyes misted. She looked up at Bill.
“Now do you trust me?”
She leaned on his shoulder.
***
******
Chapter 39
Thursday, September 6
In North Charleston, Maximilien Gutera stubbed the Cuban cigar in the ashtray. Tomorrow morning the container with the rockets would be safely on board the Étoile d’Afrique. He had paid a high price to several port officials, but the paperwork for his container was now in order. He awaited only the arrival of his ship.
The phone rang. Claude Senteli picked up. After a brief interval he hung up and turned to his chief.
“Eric Nyonzima is dead. But they missed Pierre Sehene’s wife.”
“No matter. She’s not important. Denise Guerry has betrayed us. I have called France and informed our backers of her treachery. She is now the enemy. Inform Pierre and the others.”
He continued.
“That means GES will no longer launder our funds. We shall receive them from another company. We have sufficient monies for those remaining in Florence. For those of us sailing on the Étoile d’Afrique to Mombasa, our money will be there when we arrive.”
Maximilien sighed. As supreme leader, he was as good in disposing of details as in formulating the grand plan. He leaned back in his chair and signaled Claude to hand him another cigar.
How fortunate his people were to have him.
***
Jack Marino and his temporary partner, Sam Smith, were on Interstate 26 in South Carolina when the phone buzzed.
Sam answered. Moments later he turned to Jack.
“That was Wilmington, your friend Stew Marks left the hospital four hours ago without checking out.”
Jack frowned.
“That’s just like Stew. So what?”
“A nurse saw him get into a car with a woman. They drove off together. The woman had red hair.”
“Ryan! Damn that woman, and damn Stew. What the hell is he doing? Do I have to arrest him too?”
Sam did not speak. He did not share Jack’s impatience with Stew Marks.
Jack grew silent. He stared at the road ahead, his hands tight on the wheel.
They were still twenty miles from Charleston.
***
On Meeting Street in Charleston, Jeannine waited for the traffic light to change. The café where she was to meet Angelique was in the heart of the old city, near the College of Charleston. She turned to Stew Marks in the passenger seat.
“We’re late, but we’re almost there. How’s the eye?”
“It’s fine, but my shoulder is a problem. I won’t be much good in a fight, and I don’t have a gun. I’m pretty much useless.”
Jeannine glanced sideways at him. The man was muscular and his one good arm was stronger than both of hers. Aside from Bill, there was no one she would rather have as backup.
“Jeannine, why do you want to meet this woman. What can Uwimana tell you?”
“I’m not sure. She’s a grad student at Carolina Tech, where some of Maximilien Gutera’s sympathizers congregate, and she’s from Rwanda.”
“But she’s a Tutsi and they are Hutu. It seems she would avoid them.”
“That’s logical.”
“What you really hope is that she has information that could lead to Bill. Am I right?”
“You read me pretty well, Stew. That’s what I hope. I’ll take any lead I can get. Bill and I go way back. I’m worried.”
Stew worried that Hamm was nearby. He would prefer him to be on the way to France with Denise Guerry.
Stop it Stew, you don’t want to see this woman hurt.
He stayed silent as Jeannine turned onto Calhoun Street.
The café where Angelique waited was only blocks away.
> ***
At the café, large Kudu horns hung on the wall near where Angelique Uwimana sat with her laptop. Fun-filled and relaxed after their afternoon classes, students filled most of the tables. High-pitched chatter and laughter rose and bounced off the ceiling.
Angelique was grateful for the crowd. Henri Duval’s warnings had lessened her confidence, and the abundance of carefree youths provided her a measure of safety. But she was not too concerned. Henri had surveyed the occupants of the café before withdrawing outside to watch the entrance.
She looked about the room. Several African women, wrapped in colorful robes, chatted in English at a nearby table. Angelique surmised that they were from West Africa, probably Ghana.
Then in the far corner, two African men, emerged from the rest room. Their expressive gestures showed that they could be speaking French.
Mon Dieu!
She recognized one of them. He belonged to Maximilien!
They must have been in the Men’s Room when Henri had inspected the clientele.
They headed towards her.
Angelique hunched down at their approach, before a voice from behind startled her.
“Miss Uwimana? Angelique Uwimana?”
She turned. The speaker was a tall man whose left arm was in a sling.
“I am Angelique.”
“My name is Marks, I’m an FBI agent and a friend of Dr. Ryan. She was to meet you here.”
“Do you have ID?”
Stew waved his FBI badge in front of her.
Angelique looked across the room. Maximilien’s men had seen the badge and stopped. She caught her breath.
Stew followed her glance. He recognized one of the men from his FBI photo. Damn.
“Miss Uwimana, those are Gutera’s men. You should come with me.”
She grabbed her laptop and stood. Stew pulled out his cell.
“Jeannine, drive around back. Angelique is here but so are Maximilien’s men. We’re coming out through the kitchen.”
Stew pushed Angelique through the crowd towards the rear of the café.
***
Jeannine Ryan had the motor running as Stew Marks and Angelique Uwimana slipped out the rear door and into the alley. They boarded quickly.
“What happened in there, Stew? What went wrong?”
“Ask Angelique. Two of Maximilien Gutera’s men were there. They were after her.”
Jeannine spoke over her shoulder.
“It’s good to see you again, Angelique. But tell me, why is Gutera after you? Is it your thesis?”
“Dr. Ryan, I can’t leave. My friend, Henri Duval, is waiting for me outside the café.”
“Call me Jeannine, and I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous. Stew doesn’t have his gun and we can’t fight Gutera’s men. You see his arm. Gutera did that. He’s lucky to be alive. We have to go.”
She continued.
“But why is Gutera after you?”
“He hates Tutsis. His father helped organize the genocide, and the son is just as bad.”
“Do you know a company called GES, and Denise Guerry?”
I should, she wants to bed my Henri!
She replied with caution.
“My friend, Henri Duval works for her.”
“What about Bruno Belli?”
“Henri says Mr. Belli works for GES. He was at my seminar on RSA factorization. He implied I knew government secrets. He knows Gutera. They were together at a restaurant when Gutera’s men tried to kill me. Henri saved my life. That’s all I know.”
Jeannine eased off.
“Thanks, and by the way, I would be happy to serve on your doctoral committee.”
Stew broke in.
“Angelique, we think that Maximilien Gutera is plotting to take over your country and restore Hutu Power. Denise Guerry and GES are involved.”
Dear God, not another genocide!
She froze in horror. She needed to tell Henri, but she could not recall his cell number.
She shook uncontrollably.
***
Across the street from the café entrance, Henri Duval waited. He rubbed his arms in frustration. Half an hour had passed and no woman with red hair had gone in.
Something was wrong, Dr. Ryan had not come. He was about to go inside, when two Africans stepped out of the café.
Claude Senteli! Where did you come from? Where were you when I checked the crowd?
Henri did not know the other man, but clearly, he too was one of Maximilien’s thugs. The man called ‘Claude’ took out his phone and punched a number. Henri strained to listen.
“He had a badge and took her. He could have been that FBI agent. They left out the back. There were too many people. Just pick us up out front.”
A gray Audi rounded the corner and stopped. Claude and his companion got in and the car roared away. Henri dashed across and into the café.
Angelique was indeed gone. The authorities had her.
He had to find her, but how? He only knew one person who could help, but that individual despised Angelique.
Denise Guerry.
***
In Summerville, Bill Hamm gripped the wheel of his car while Denise Guerry seated herself at his side. She spoke.
“What do we do now? Where should we go?”
Bill noted her “we.” He chose “I.”
“I’m going to the North Charleston container terminal. It’s on Remount Road. The Étoile d’Afrique is scheduled to arrive there this evening. I need to study the layout”
Denise touched his arm.
“Let me help you.”
Bill felt a vibration against his thigh. It was Denise’s phone that he had taken from the dead Jules. A man spoke.
“Who is this? Where is Denise?”
Bill clicked the phone to “Speaker” and held it in front of her.
“Henri?”
“It’s me, I need your help?”
Denise responded in French. Bill understood some words, but they spoke too fast. Finished, Denise turned to him.
“Bill, do you find me attractive? Do you like me?”
He jerked the car onto the shoulder and stopped. He kept the motor running.
“Denise, what was that call about? Who is this Henri?”
“Are you jealous?”
Bill seized her arm.
“Damn it woman, get real! Stop thinking of yourself. I have to stop Gutera before his ship leaves with those missiles.”
She pulled away. His tone softened.
“Yes, you are attractive. Now who was that?”
Denise recounted Henri’s infatuation with a Tutsi named Angelique who was missing, that Maximilien’s men were hunting her, and that Henri wanted Denise’s help.
Bill understood more from her tale than she had intended.
“So you are jealous of this ‘Angelique,’ and angry that this ‘Henri’ would prefer her to you. Denise this is not a game. You can use your beauty and your body to twist men like Henri to your will, but you won’t find love that way. Henri is a person, not just a man. He has a will and an intellect, as much as you do.”
She turned to him. But she had heard only the words she wanted to hear.
He thinks I’m beautiful and he admires my body!
But he kept on.
“Truth is, Denise, you are selfish. You think only of yourself!”
She sulked. Zut! Why should I care what this man thinks?
She fell quiet.
Bill pulled back onto the highway. Moments later, he turned onto Remount Road and headed for the North Charleston terminal.
He noted her silence and reflected. She had helped save Stew Marks, and without her accurate shooting, Bill himself might be dead in that field behind the shack, the target of circling vultures.
He softened.
“Denise, I’m grateful, I am. Without you, I might not be alive.”
Her smile returned.
“Bill, this Henri who called is like you. He was a soldier in Rwanda. He�
��s a man you would want on your side in a fight, and he knows Maximilien’s ways, the ways of the Interahamwe. He can help us.”
“I don’t think you should tell him what we’re doing.”
She stopped him.
“It’s too late. I told him we’re going to the terminal. He’s on his way there now.”
Bill fell silent.
Now he had to watch Denise, plus a stranger too.
***
******
Chapter 40
Thursday, September 6
Henri Duval was on his way to North Charleston to rendezvous with Denise Guerry as agreed. The traffic light in front of him turned red just as his cell phone buzzed. The call was from his superior at SÉGAG in Paris.
“Henri, listen carefully. Maximilien Gutera informed le ministre that Denise Guerry has joined the enemy. Her uncle is taking her off the project to protect her. He has called her back to Paris, but the minister’s aide says that she knows too much.”
He paused for emphasis.
“They want her dead.”
Henri was silent.
“Henri, did you hear me?”
“Yes, but why me? Tell me what you want me to do.”
“She knows too much, and she is linked to the missing documents. You must eliminate her.”
“Will le ministre confirm that in writing?”
“His aide will send you a message with the authorization.”
Henri felt the thumb drive in his pocket. The decryption program and key were stored on it.
“Henri, do not fail. Eliminate this woman or the minister will have both our heads. Understood?”
“Understood.”
The traffic light turned green. Ahead was a Public Library. He drove into the lot.
A few minutes later he was sitting at a library computer, waiting for the message from Paris.
To Henri, the wait seemed interminable, but only a minute elapsed before it arrived. He stared at the numbers on the screen.
Henri’s hand shook as he plugged his drive into the USB port.
Kill Denise? I am no assassin. I protect people.