Who are "they"?  Michael demanded.  Not now, Mike.  I can't tell you now.

Sorry about the package, Danny.  She was very convincing.

But I shouldn't have fallen for it.  Must be getting senile.  No great harm done.  I have some stronger medicine to replace it.  When will I see you?  Soon, I hope.  I'll let you know.

Despite the short notice, the studio gave him a cutting-room to work in.

He worked without a break, it helped to allay his sadness and guilt at what had happened to Bonny Mahon.  He felt responsible.  The final cut of the videotape did not have to be perfect, and it was not necessary to dub the Swahili dialogue into English.  He had a copy ready to show within forty-eight hours.

It was impossible to get through to Tug Harrison.  All Daniel's calls were intercepted on the BOSS switchboard and were not returned.  Of course, the number of the Holland Park address was not listed, and he could not remember the number that he had telephoned from Nairobi to check on Bonny Mahon.  So he staked out the house, leaning against a car with a newspaper as though he were waiting for someone, and watching the front of the building.

He was fortunate.  Tug's Rolls-Royce pulled up at the front door that same day a little after noon, and Daniel intercepted him as he climbed the front steps.  Armstrong, Danny!  Tug's surprise was genuine.  I heard that you had disappeared in Ubomo.  Not true, Tug.  Didn't you get my messages?  I telephoned your office half a dozen times.  They don't pass them on to me.  Too many freaks and funny bunnies in this world.  I must show you some of the material I have been able to shoot in Ubomo, Daniel told him.

Tug hesitated and consulted his wristwatch dubiously.  Don't mess me around, Tug.  This stuff could sink you.  And BOSS.  Tug's eyes narrowed.  That sounds like a threat.  Just a friendly piece of advice.

All right, come in, Tug invited, and opened the front door.  Let's have a look at what you have for me.  Tug Harrison sat behind his desk and watched the tape run through from beginning to end without moving, without uttering a word.

When the tape was finished and the screen filled with an electronic snowstorm, he Pressed the remote control button, ran the tape back and then played it a second time, still without comment.

Then he switched off the tape and spoke without looking at Daniel.

It's genuine, he said.  You couldn't have faked it.  You know it's genuine, Daniel told him.  You knew about the mining and logging.  It's your bloody syndicate.  You gave the orders.  I meant the labour camps, and the use of arsenic.  I knew nothing about that.  Who is going to believe that, Tug?  Tug shrugged and said, So Omeru is still alive.

Yes.  He is alive and ready to give evidence against you.  Tug changed the subject again.  Of course, there are other copies of this tape?  he said.

Silly question, Daniel agreed.  So this is a direct threat?  Another silly question, Daniel said again.  You are going to go public with this?

That's three in a row, Daniel said grimly.  Of course, I'm going public.

Only one thing will stop me.  That is if you and I can make a deal.

What deal are you offering?  Tug asked softly.  I will give you time to get out.  I will give you time to sell out your interest in Ubomo to Lucky Dragon or anyone else who will buy.  Tug did not answer immediately but Daniel saw the faintest gleam of relief in his gaze.

Tug drew a breath.  In return?  You will finance Victor Omeru's counter-revolution against Taffari's regime.  After all, it won't be the first coup in Africa that you have orchestrated, Tug, will it?  How much will this cost me?

Tug asked.  Only a small fraction of what you would lose if I were to release the tape before you have a chance to pull out.  I could get a copy around to the Foreign Office and another to the American ambassador within thirty minutes.  It could be on BBC 1 at six o'clock.

.

How much?  Tug insisted.  Five million in cash, paid into a Swiss account immediately.  With you as the signatory?  And Omeru as a counter-signatory.  What else?  You will intercede with the president of Zaire.  He is a friend of yours, but no friend of Taffari's.  We want him to allow clandestine passage of arms and munitions across his border with Ubomo.  All he has to do is turn a blind eye.  is that all?

That's the lot.  Daniel nodded.  All right.  I agree, Tug said.  Give me the account number and I'll deposit the money before noon tomorrow.

Daniel stood up.  Cheer up.  All is not lost, Tug, he advised.

Victor Omeru will be very kindly disposed towards you once he is reinstated in his rightful position.  I am sure he will be prepared to renegotiate the contract with you, with the proper safeguards in place this time.  After Daniel had left, Tug Harrison sat staring at his Picasso for fully five minutes.

Then he glanced at his watch.  There was a nine-hour time difference in Taipei.  He picked up the telephone and dialled the international code, followed by Ning Heng H'Sui's private number.  The old man's eldest son, Fang, screened the call, and then passed him on to his father.  I have a very interesting proposition for you, Tug told the old man.  I want to fly out to speak to you face to face.  I can be in Taipei within twenty-four hours, will you be there?  He made two other phone calls. One to his chief pilot's home number to warn him to get the Gulfstream ready, and the second to the Credit Swisse Bank in Zurich.  Mr.  Mulder, I will be making a large transfer from the number two account within the next twenty-four hours.  Five million sterling.

Make certain there is no delay once you receive the code card instruction.  Then he hung up the telephone and stared at the painting again without seeing it.  He had to decide what reason he would give Ning for wanting to sell his share in UDC.  Should he say that he was in a cash bind?  Or that he needed to be liquid for a new acquisition?

Which would Ning fall for more readily?

What was his price?  He mustn't set it too low, for that would arouse the cunning old oriental's suspicions immediately.

Not too high either.  Low enough to excite his greed, high enough not to alarm him.  It was a nice calculation.  He would have the duration of the flight to Taipei to consider it.  That young fool Cheng has dropped me in it.  It's only right that his father be made to pay.  He thought about Ning Cheng Gong.  He has been too good a choice, Tug smiled bitterly.  He had asked for a ruthless one, and got more than he bid for.

Of course, Tug had known about the forced ]about, but not the details of their treatment.  He had not wanted to know.

Neither had he known for certain about the use of the arsenic reagents, though he had suspected that Cheng was using them.

The platinum recovery figures had been too high, the profits too good, for it not to be so.  He had not wanted to know any of the unpleasant details.  But, he thought philosophically, the enhanced profitability of the mining venture would make it easier to sell out his interests to Lucky Dragon.

Ning Heng H'Sui would think he was getting the bargain of his life.

Good luck, Lucky Dragon, Tug grunted.  You're going to need all of it.

Three months to the day since his last crossing Daniel stood on the moraine below the Ruwatamagufa glacier.  This time he was properly equipped for the alpine conditions; there would be no more frostbite.

And this time he was not alone.

The line of porters, each man bowed forward against the headband of his pack, stretched back as far as Daniel could see into the mountain mist.

They were all men of the Konjo tribe, dour mountaineers who could carry heavy loads at these high altitudes.  There were six hundred and fifty porters, and each man carried an eighty-pound pack.