Making Peace in Africa: Joe Jones's Journey of Understanding

The sound of the engine purring brought me back to consciousness, and I opened my eyes to a dull light filtering through the trees. The sun was low and it was almost evening. We had been driving for hours, but I wasn't tired; adrenaline is a powerful drug. I sat up straight in my seat and checked the figure next to me. He was still sleeping, his head lolling to the side on his chest. It hadn't been hard to get him into the truck. A couple of pills slipped into his drink had done the trick nicely. I didn't like drugging people, but this man deserved it. He was a monster. His bank account was proof enough of that, but after seeing what he had done in person...

"You're awake?" asked the driver, turning around to look at me over his shoulder. He looked like an old friend from school - one who had always kept his distance from me then and now appeared to still be doing so. But we were working together now, so that didn't seem strange. "I'm surprised. You've been out for about ten hours."

"Ten hours?" I checked my watch and saw that it read 23:54. "Ahh, shit."

"That's all you have? Shit?" He laughed a little bit, "We'll probably have to do some walking from here on out, but first we'll check out the location."

"Good." I replied as he pulled up to a junction in the road that split into three directions. We stopped at the side of the road and switched off the engine. No-one else came by while we waited for nightfall, except once when we heard an approaching vehicle drive past us on one of the other roads before stopping somewhere nearby. The driver cursed under his breath and put a finger up to his lips when he saw that I was watching him closely, but said nothing else about it. As far as I knew we were alone out here - there had been no sign of anyone following us since we left town - but you can never be too careful these days. Yes, things are better than they used to be in this country - much better - but when someone like our target has money and power like him...

I watched him get out of the car and pick up a bag from behind the seats in the back before he walked around to join me on my side of the vehicle and handed me a pair of night-vision goggles which slid easily over my eyes. They fit perfectly into my skull and locked into place with no wiggle room for error. There was no way I could see anything without them strapped onto my head right now; they worked incredibly well.

I started walking down the gravel road where we had stopped while he followed behind me with our bags slung over his shoulders until we reached a dip in the road next to a small creek. He told me to stop while he continued on ahead alone across the bridge towards what looked like a small farmhouse at least half a kilometer away if not more beyond it along another road running parallel to ours on its other side. It took him several minutes before he finally reached it and disappeared inside; after waiting for five minutes more, I followed him on foot myself until I reached just outside its front door where I hid among some bushes under a tree whose branches hung low enough that they shielded me from view.

* * *

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to reappear again, carrying something large wrapped in black plastic sheets under one arm while he walked back across the bridge towards me with something else large covered in white sheets under his other arm. He dropped both of them at my feet as I stood there staring at them wide-eyed underneath the night-vision goggles which somehow still managed to fit perfectly over my head without any sign of abrasion against any part of my skull.

"You can take those off now." He told me quietly before removing his own set of night-vision goggles and sliding them slowly down onto his neck until they dropped down onto his chest beneath his shirt where they rested against his body. He looked up at me once more with those brown eyes, searching for something within me. "You know why you're here, right?"

"Yes." I answered simply without hesitation before continuing on without any further explanation because that's how spies work... "How bad is it?"

He threw one arm over my shoulder while putting his other hand on top of mine which rested against one of those packages wrapped in black plastic sheets lying next to us at our feet. He looked around us quickly before telling me in no uncertain terms: "It's pretty bad, son..."