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I heard Finn’s muttered curse after O’Brien appeared and ordered him back to work. His reaction to his new boss felt familiar; he really doesn’t like the man.

The trucks began arriving less than an hour later. I captured it all, the drivers signing paperwork, O’Brien marching about and ordering which crates would be loaded onto what lorries. The direct exchange of illegal goods.

Finn, in the thick of it all.

The lies. The deception.

I mean, is he even Irish? Is his name even Finn McDuff? When I think of everything between us, the throaty promises, the banter, the friendship, love, was it all a lie?

Seeing him stirs up a myriad emotions. But my feelings aren’t important, getting this story done is what matters. I began this journey in heartbreak. It’s about to end with heartbreak, too. But this time around, I’ll have something to show for it.

I’ll grieve for what might have been later.

Right now, I have the most important part of this story to capture.

I film Finn loading the bed of truck number eleven, O’Brien hovers nearby but contributes nothing. And as seconds turn to minutes, and then more minutes, I find myself waiting, believing Finn will do something to end—or at the very least stall—this transaction.

No, Finn’s not CIA. Yes, he is working for the dark-haired stranger who wanted me gone. Beyond a doubt, he despises O’Brien. Why gain O’Brien’s interest? Why fight? Why load uranium into trucks if he doesn’t have an interest in this dirty business?

When truck number eleven drives away, I feel the tears on my cheeks. Deep down, I still believed he was a good man. That he hurt me for a valiant reason ... to stop atomic weapons material from reaching the wrong hands. I might not forgive his lies, but I could live with that.

But now, after witnessing the truth ...

“Now who the feck could that be?” O’Brien shouts and I quickly brush away my tears. His men rush forward to gather at the entrance. All of them ... except Finn.

I blink as he hurries by me and away from the new arrivals. It’s hard to know where he’s gone, yet instinct tells me he’s close.

Don’t make a noise, Clarissa.

“That bitch is back,” O’Brien exclaims. My jaw drops when his men draw their guns.The thin wooden crate I’m in won’t hold up against bullets, I think yet ignore my rising panic.With shaking hands, I adjust the camera’s zoom lens until I can almost feel the heat coming off O’Brien’s reddened cheeks.

Two cars park, and Mrs. Ogdenhayer exits one of them.

My eyes go wide at her audacity.

Four South Africans jump out of the first car and three others from hers. What’s going on?

She charges toward O’Brien then gets in his face. “We had a deal.”

“Did we, now?” he growls.

Holy hell. This could be exactly what I need. This could be my Ronald Reagan moment, my Berlin Wall speech, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.”

“The price for the uranium was nonnegotiable. And it was to be paid in full upon delivery. That’s why I’m here in this goddamn country.”

“The price Mr. Ogdenhayer quoted was reasonable.”

“The price Mr. Ogdenhayer ...” Point goes to O’Brien because he’s flustered her so much, she struggles to finish her sentence.

“I hear Ogenhayer’s mistress is a looker. Bet Barrington allowed you to meddle in this exchange so he has time alone to feck her.”

Mrs. Ogenhayer’s face turns white, then red. “I hear you’re unmarried. They say your dick is the size of a peanut and not even a porn star with lips the size of a watermelon can get it up.”

Two ... no, three points to Mrs. Ogdenhayer. Because O’Brien is fuming. He can dish it out but can’t take it, can he? I want to roll my eyes. It’s high school, all over. I need facts, information. Not this bullshit battle for the title of “Worst Lover.”

O’Brien erupts, as predicted. “Take that ticket I gave you and get yer sorry self back to Cape Town. I’ll be telling Barrington that any future uranium orders are to be directly handled by him.” Two of O’Brien’s men grab her by the arms and literally drag her back to her car. Her men follow, wise enough to realize they can escape while still breathing.

“Enjoy it now, you asshole,” she screeches, losing her temper and her mind. “People from around the world are lined up to buy from us. Our mine will be fully operable soon.”