Page 80

CHAPTER 79

LATE THAT NIGHT, the five giants from Belgium sat slumped on their cots in their sweltering barracks tent. It was too damn hot to sleep. A generator-powered fan blew air from one side of the tent to the other, but it wasn’t enough to dry the sweat from their bodies, even with their shirts off. And it didn’t deter the massive insects, which managed to dodge the currents to land on their backs and necks.

Blodgett wiped the damp dirt off his crew cut. “God, it stinks in here.”

“My ball sack is drippin’,” said Fenwick. His rough Scottish brogue somehow made the image even more visceral.

Marley reached into a Styrofoam cooler and pulled out a beer. He uncapped it with his teeth and drained it without stopping. White foam dribbled down over his dark skin. He tossed the empty out through the tent flap and wiped his chin. “When’s payday?” he asked.

“End of the month,” said Harper. “Ten days.”

“Not soon enough,” said Tagaloa.

“Whaddya think Gurney’s makin’?” asked Fenwick. “For standin’ around talkin’ through his toy bullhorn?”

“You mean the guy we’re being paid to protect?” said Harper. He leaned over and spit onto the floor. “Poncy boarding-school prick.”

Tagaloa leaned back on his elbows and stretched his long brown legs out. “You know who was a real prick?” he said. “Leo’s ancestor. Old King Leopold. I looked him up. He ran the whole Congo like it was his own private plantation for twenty-odd years. And you know what happened when the workers didn’t produce? He had their goddamn hands chopped off.”

“Hey!” Fenwick contorted his fingers to imitate Leo’s twisted claw. “Whaddya think? Leo’s hand. Maybe it’s some kind of karmic payback.”

Harper stretched out to his full six-ten length on the cot. His blond ponytail dangled off the end. “You guys ever think we’re working for the wrong side here?”

Marley stood up, his bald head brushing the ceiling of the tent. He let out a loud and aromatic beer belch. “Since when did you grow a conscience?”

Harper swatted at something buzzing around his ear. “Dunno,” he said. “Maybe it’s the bugs.”