Authority in the Congo

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The plane was finally landing, each of her long slender fingers unstuck from the arms of the business class seat and her body visibly relaxed. She loathed flying but it was necessary to get the research done for her next book, the Pygmy tribes of the Congo were said to be most intriguing and she hoped to include them in her next best seller. The trouble was it involved her least favourite things in the world; flying and unstable countries. Fortunately she was wealthy enough to afford guides and reasonable hotels, with an economy like the Congo’s, just about anyone could!

Dionne Grace stepped off the plane, her legs shaky and her grey suit a little more than wrinkled and her hair had started out in a neat bun which was now a fair brown haywire frizz of a mess. She took her suitcase as it was handed out from the undercarriage of the light aircraft and made her way to the side of the airfield where people were gathered holding up signs. Dionne spotted her name easily and walked up to the tall black man who could’ve just as easily have been a professional basketball player.

“I’m Dionne.” She said with a smile which he returned.

“I am Kamuzu, please to meet you Miss Grace. I will be your guide of Congolese people and place.” He said with a thick accent, forcing her to pay close attention.

She nodded and followed him out into the bustling streets of the main city Kinshasa. She dodged people as he pointed certain things out and warned her not to leave the city alone, not to go out at night without an armed escort while all she could think is; what kind of hell hole is this?!

Dionne followed Kamuzu into a little run down building, she was shocked to discover that this would be where she was staying. The door had a little used, mostly rusted lock, the wardrobe doors were hanging on if only barely and the single bed had musty bed sheets which looked like they were moth eaten and about 20 years old. Dionne shook her head, Kamuzu told her to rest up and that he would continue the tour tomorrow after her jet lag had subsided.

Dionne flopped down on the bed and lit up a cigarette, this was going to be a long tour! She started to pack her things away when she realized her smaller bag was missing.

“Oh fuck! My fucking camera! Shit…” She breathed and took her phone out, deleting the memory bank as she decided it would suffice for the photographs she required.

Dionne slowly unpacked and then went to the door, locking it swiftly. She was somewhat anal retentive about her belongings and where she slept, she took the bedding off the mattress provided and took her own travel cushion and blanket from her bag; deciding she’d much rather sleep on those.

She stubbed her smoke out on the windowsill, grateful that the little bastards hadn’t stolen those instead and plonked down on the creaky bed which protested her 115 pounds instantly. She laid back and curled into the blanket, feeling the jet lag kick in like a semi had hit her…repeatedly.

“Just a couple of weeks Dionne. Just a couple of…” She yawned and closed her eyes, breathing out, “…weeks.”

The law of the jungle was very simple. Kill, or be killed. Take, or be taken. Rape, or be raped. The people of the Congo understood this, and so did not care when the world looked aghast at the atrocities that were committed there. The rest of the world did not understand the jungle.

Martin Laurent, however, understood the jungle all too well. He understood his men, what they wanted, what they needed, what they craved. What they wanted was glory, be it on the field of battle or in the high of a drug. What they needed was tools, to get their dirty work done. And what they craved... was simple, really. What most men craved. A warm hole to sink his dick into.

Martin was a warlord because he was capable of attaining his wants, needs, and cravings at a higher level than the other men. And so the men followed him. It was a simple thing to manipulate them, really. Their superstitions went a long way. When a man believes that the terrible things he does are ordained by God Most High as virtuous and pure and, indeed, necessary... anything is possible.

They had plundered, pillaged, and utterly dominated the jungles northwest of Kinshasa with impunity. Local militias were outgunned and overrun, their women taken for a night, their food stores looted, their best and brightest young men (who survived the initial onslaught) indoctrinated into Martin's forces.

And Martin lived like a king. His forces grew stronger, their numbers increasing. Soon he would conquer more land, more tribes would fall under his thumb. He had bigger dreams than war, of course. The Congo was rich in natural resources. Once he controlled the land here, and could effectively provide proper security, there would come investment, industry, riches beyond belief.

But in the mean time, he would kill. It was entirely too much fun.

There was a heavy knock on the door and Dionne sat up groggily, still feeling jet lagged as she spoke in a raspy tone, "Yeah?"

Kamuzu opened the door and peered in, "Miss Dionne? It is morning. You would like to see the land, yes?"

Dionne grabbed her phone to check the time, it was 8 o'clock in the morning and she nodded, "Yeah. Just let me get myself together here. I could really use a-"

"Coffee?" Kamuzu interjected with a smile and wandered over, cup in hand.

Dionne smiled gratefully, still half asleep and took it from him, "Yeah, thanks!"

"Don't thank me...you haven't tasted it yet!" Kamuzu grinned as she took her first sip and Dionne nearly snorted in the cup.

Dionne lowered it from her face, "I was beginning to think you didn't have a sense of humour Kamuzu!"

"This place...beats you...beats out of you." Kamuzu struggled with his English, it was obvious that this wasn't his first language, "You must laugh...or die." He finished gravely and exited the room to allow her some privacy.

Dionne frowned and sipped at her coffee, the mug was chipped but thankfully not leaky although it concerned Dionne that it also wasn't very clean. She set it down and started stripping off her dirty, slept in clothes as she opted for a more outdoor friendly outfit of runners, shorts and a white T-shirt with a sports bra to help lessen the impact on her reasonably sized chest.

She pocketed her phone after shooting a text message to her sister, letting her know she'd arrived safely and survived her first night before she headed out and met Kamuzu at the front door. He led the way and before long, they were plucking their way through the Congolese jungle, giving Dionne the lay of the land as background for her book.

There are many things in Congo that are rare and valuable, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and value is only how much money you get for something.

On this day, Martin learned of two different treasures. A rumor of an untapped diamond and mineral lode just to the north of his recently conquered territory... And the rumor of a beautiful white woman arriving in the City. A journalist?

The first rumor would take a great deal of work to verify, but he sent a platoon north to investigate. The second rumor was confirmed quickly, with photo evidence brought to Martin directly, per his orders.

Martin set the wheels in motion. It was easy enough to buy off the man she had hired as a guide, to lead her into his domain.

The warlord stood from his throne as a runner came bearing word that she had arrived, with her guide, south of his compound. Perfect. Martin stretched out his mighty form, six-foot-seven, and two-hundred-sixty pounds of battle-hardened muscle. Simple tools were brought to him: a vicious, serrate knife; a length of rope; his bow and arrows.

He would enjoy hunting her down...

With a machete in hand, Kamuzu wandered ahead of Dionne and hacked a path that was less hazardous for her to walk along. He spoke animatedly about the land and its history while Dionne listened intently about the history of infighting and civil wars that tore this country apart.

"Men fight for the mines of precious jewels. Money is power here. The more money you have, more guns you buy. More guns and money, more men join you." Kamuzu explained in broken English.

"I don't understand Kamuzu, why so much fighting?" Dionne asked naively, "Doesn't the government care?"

Kamuzu snorted, "Government? Our government was destroyed long time ago, every politician strung up and disemboweled. No one would want to rule here, every man try to kill him. Every man wants army big enough to lead, to rule. They fight for mines which pay for the big weapons."

"Like guns?" Dionne asked.

"No, bigger ones. Missiles, nuclear, ships." Kamuzu hacked down another branch and it fell away with ease but heavily, Dionne gasped and held her breathe as a large python unfurled before her, lying between her and Kamuzu.

Kamuzu smiled, "Big snake here." And he didn't even blink, bringing his blade down heavily as it reared its head, slicing its mouth in half and ripping the top of its head from its body.

"They die fast, nerves keep body moving." He offered Dionne his hand and she stepped over the large python which was still quivering and spasming on the jungle floor.

"Thanks..." Dionne said softly, not looking at Kamuzu but staring at the snake behind her as he led her forward.

Kamuzu found a clearing not far off with some nicely shaped rocks, "Here, you need rest. You won't be used to heat here."

He offered Dionne water and gestured for her to sit which she did and looked at Kamuzu with appreciation and admiration. He stood guard with his machete over his shoulder, looking around alertly.

"It is dangerous to go alone, Lord," his aide said, as Martin prepared to hunt down his prey.

Martin scowled, and sneered. "I am King of this jungle!" he declared, stripping off his garments, standing naked save for the belt that held his sheathed knife and length of rope, and the quiver full of arrows across his back. His only other weapon, the foot-long monster hanging between his thighs, hung long and thick and ready.

He strode out into his camp, the men and slaves watching in awe as he headed into the jungle...

It did not take him long to find them. He was one with the jungle, moving silently and quickly, and through the lush overgrowth he spotted them. The guide was loud and brash, hacking their way through the jungle.

Martin stood on a ledge looking down on them, an arrow cocked in his bow, and he lined up his shot...

The shot was perfect. He loosed the arrow, and it flew true through the plantlife, embedding itself in the guide's ear and spewing blood and brains out the other side, splattering across the white woman's impressive, ample busom!

Kamuzu was eager to offer her more information and assist with the background of her novel. Dionne listened as he told her about the coastal pirates, the various tribes of the area, the marauders who were split into numerous militant groupings of both organized assemblages and unorganized bandits who merely stole, looted and pillaged what they needed to survive. Kamuzu told her of women being used as commodities, they were traded, sold, stolen, raped and used against their loved ones as leverage. He told her about the lack of government, the disappearance of the UN in the area and that the most armed militants made the rules.

Dionne sipped her water and asked the occasional question, poachers were commonplace and he was keen to show her some of the inhumane traps they used to capture Gorillas and Apes. Dionne pulled some deodorant from her pack and quickly sprayed herself down, the heat had made her sticky and wet to the point of her white shirt becoming somewhat see through and her jog bra became obvious beneath it.

As Dionne replaced her deodorant and pulled her pack on, she stood up and heard a swift whistling sound as well as a ‘shwack!’ Dionne was confused, she looked around wildly and her eyes came back to Kamuzu whose mouth was wide, blood pouring out of it, his pupils dilated rapidly as blood vessels burst in his eyes. She was in total shock, her mouth agape as she watched Kamuzu collapse to the ground with an arrow buried in his brain. She felt the warm flecks on her hands as she brushed over her shirt, she glanced down at the blood on her hands…her mind ticking into overdrive.

Fight or flight? Dionne couldn’t remember if she screamed, she never took her pack off and she didn’t look back, she started pounding the ground and running as fast as she could into the endless jungle with no concept of direction. Her lungs searing as she ran well beyond their capacity, she remembered thinking she wished she had quit smoking sooner now that she was actually running for her life.

Dionne ran left and right, unsure if she was being followed and ran in what she hoped was the direction of Kinshasa but she was certain she was lost completely.

“It…doesn't….matter….don’t die! Who….cares….if I get….lost!” She wheezed out of her overstretched lungs, her calves were on fire and her thighs were aching, she was certain that she had slowed down considerably.