Her name was Che’anton. She had come to know the dangers of the militia first hand, and her initiation to their methods was when she was just 12 years old. She had watched helplessly her father’s murder, whilst he tried to protect his family during Abu’s revolution 8 years ago.
Being the oldest girl in a family of six, she had carried the burden of helping her mother raise the young of the family. Working hard over the years since that tender age of twelve, she had learnt by experience to survive the terrible days that followed the revolution.
On the way she had gained some education, and it had stood her in good stead in gaining easier and better paid work. Life had become better for her and the family she provided for. She had felt better in her own heart until three months ago, when her younger brother had disappeared.
He’d been taken off the streets by the gangs of thugs who went under the guise of Government militia. More than likely he’d been tortured, and was by now most certainly buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the jungle. The stories were that all those who disappeared died horribly, and eventually ended up in unmarked graves.
She’d tried not to listen to the rumours and stories she’d heard. As the memory of her brother was still fresh in her mind, she preferred to remember him as he was before he disappeared. She’d struggled on, and prayed to God that her life and the lives of her people would get better.
Prayed the revolutionaries would put her country and its people before themselves and their greed.
She knew she asked a lot of God, but her faith had been strong. A faith she’d carried for many years, and through it believed that God had smiled upon her when she’d achieved the position as secretary in the government. She’d carried the faith right up until the time that Abu the corrupt had pushed her down and splashed her legs with her own virgin blood.
The blood she had cherished, and had been saving to give in sacrifice to the one she was to marry in two months’ time. Now even that had been destroyed, by the same regime that had taken her father and her brother.
She would extract payment from the one responsible, and knew that when the time came for the rat to leave the sinking ship, where the rat would run to.
Her time normally spent in prayer was now spent in grievance, and for the first time in her life she felt the dark shadow of hate and revenge creep into her gentle heart.
*****
Abu stalked his huge ornament of an office. He moved about the floor with anger in his heart, as he emptied his safe and quickly counted his American dollars. His earlier estimation had been close to correct.
His new life would be difficult.
There was always the money in the ministers aligned account he thought, but they would undoubtedly suspect him of theft when he tried to explain that the money had actually been stolen from him. He wondered how he would react if the foot was in the other shoe, and knew then that his chances were slim.
One thing he did know. They needed him as much as he needed them. The four signatures were in the end necessary to empty the account, so he could still come out of this with something.
There was a sound of gunfire in the distance. It was still a fair way away, but he knew that time was quickly slipping by.
A call to his new secretary produced nothing, so he walked to the door of his office and looked to her desk. It had been cleared. He decided that she too had heard the gunfire and had left the building, as she’d have realized that she would be treated as any government official if caught by the rebel army.
Abu treaded back into his office and pulled the curtains apart slightly. Smoke was clearly visible as it curled in huge clouds across the far side of the city.
He stared at the smoke for a moment, hoping he had not left it too late to make his escape. With this fear in mind he was about to turn away from the window when an explosion rent the air. It was closer, and he realized that the government armory had just been turned to ashes.
Abu picked up the bag which held his possessions and made his way to the door.
As he passed the secretaries desk the phone rang. He had no time to waste and was on the verge of ignoring it, but finally picked up the hand piece.
“Who is this?”
A voice came back in a foreign accent.
“I’d like to talk to Abu Mohammed.”
“I am Abu Mohammed. Who is this that I speak to?”
“My name is Simon. You sent me a fax asking me to call you one last time.”
Abu stiffened, as he growled down the line.
“You stole from me. You took what was mine.”
“Yeah, you’re right that I stole from you, but I didn’t take what was yours you prick.”
Abu wasn’t quite sure what to say to the man on the phone.
“I have this morning mailed to the Federal Police in Australia documents which show your activities in the theft of my countries money, and I know that even in your country that fraud is looked upon as a more serious crime than murder, so I have won in the end my friend,” he threatened with a lie,
Simon listened to the voice of the African as it shook with anger and laughed.
“Look mate, I’ve been keeping up with the news, and I know there are rebels in your capital right now. In fact, I’m surprised your phone lines are still open. Let alone the chances of your countries Post Office employees turning up for work half way through a revolution. So save me the bullshit, eh?”
Abu exploded and cursed Simon loudly, furiously, until commotion from across the city brought pause to his speech.
“Sudovich will get you then. You have crossed a very dangerous man and when he has you in his hands you will beg for death, he hissed. You, you…”
Simon chuckled into Abu’s ear and stirred the African a little more.
“He has already tried and failed Abu. So if you think he will carry out your revenge for you then, you’d best think again.”
Abu stamped his foot heavily on the carpeted office floor as he raged with more curses. Suddenly the sound of another explosion came to him from across the city and the phone went dead.
Undeterred, he ranted and cursed into the hand piece, words and profanity which were lost and heard by no one but him. Finally, he threw the phone down and watched as it shattered against the office wall.
He drew himself to his full height, and drawing on all his being, he spat a heavy glob of sputum and saliva towards the place where the phone had landed.
Abu had to lean against the desk for support as he rubbed a hand over his sweat wet face. Massaging his closed eyes, he groaned an animal like noise as he retrieved his bag of valuables and retreated from the room.