Somewhere in Africa
Retired CIA and Secret Intelligence Service agents often find second careers in the private sector, working for companies rather than governments. Their help is particularly valuable in nations where they previously operated. These former agents can tap into their old networks for two business purposes—securing meetings and obtaining intelligence about government actions.
Agent Ghost was working for a private intelligence firm when Scott met him, but before that, he had spent many decades serving Great Britain in Africa’s hot spots. Britain in particular has a controversial history in Africa. Among other covert actions, its agents have been accused of assassinating Patrice Lumumba, then Prime Minister of the Democratic Republic of Congo—to prevent the nation’s uranium mines from falling into the hands of communists. Agent Ghost was of Scottish lineage and looked a lot like Sean Connery, with one glaring exception. He had matching scars on each of his cheeks. Most people who met Agent Ghost assumed they were ritual scars, given as a badge of honor, perhaps by an African chief. The truth was something entirely different.
Agent Ghost’s Story
“A civil war was raging across central Africa,” Agent Ghost explained. “It was the clash of civilizations—Soviet communism versus western capitalism. We were helping the good guys when one of my local operatives betrayed me to the communists. Rebels kicked in my door in the middle of the night.
“I got off a couple of shots, but there were too many of them. That’s where the movies get it wrong. Sheer numbers usually prevail. In a matter of seconds, I was hit over the head and knocked unconscious. I woke up to find myself blindfolded in the trunk of a car, my hands tied behind my back.
“When the vehicle finally stopped, my assailants opened the trunk and pulled me out. I couldn’t see a thing, but the stench was awful. As they led me up a hill, I could feel and hear the crunching of garbage. I remember thinking: This is not good. This is how it’s going to end.
“I wasn’t going to make it any easier so I went limp. It would buy me a few more minutes of life. They cursed me, but it didn’t change the outcome. They dragged me through the foulest of refuse. We went up and then down the trash hill before they stopped and pulled me to my knees.
“‘Take off his blindfold,’ said the voice of my former operative.
“When they did, I found myself in a valley of garbage. The Judas was in front of me, smiling slyly, and looking quite smug.
“‘So much for the big man,’ he said.
“Whether it was my concussion or the rotten smell, I vomited, spraying Judas’s trousers in front of me.
“‘Get it over with,’ he shouted, and then he turned and walked away.
“One of his men pulled my blindfold back over my eyes. The nausea wave came again, and just as I heaved, something hit me in the side of my face. I don’t even remember hearing the gun go off. There was just a jerk to my head followed by a searing pain. The men released me, and I fell sideways into the garbage. My mouth tasted of blood and gunpowder. In all my years of service, that was the first time I had ever been shot. Even though I knew it was coming, the feeling of dread was overwhelming. I was confused, but I knew I didn’t want them to shoot me again. So, I lay very still, trying to remember a woman I had loved. The thought of her calmed me enough.
“I tried to listen for my executioner walking away or the car driving away. But one of my ears was pressed against filth and the other was rendered deaf by the gunshot. So, I just stayed still, replaying the memories of my woman. She would be my last thought when I died. Only death did not come, and I actually started feeling a little better.
“The first thing I moved was my mouth, and the pain made me see stars. I’d been shot in the mouth. I moved my tongue around, finding the broken shards of molars, the entry hole, and the gash in my cheek where the bullet and several shattered teeth had exited. Then I rubbed my head against the trash until my blindfold slid off.
“I rolled over onto my knees and spit out a mouthful of blood, along with pieces of teeth. My jaw hurt, but I could move it up and down. Once I was righted, I could hear again, too, albeit only with one ear. There was nocturnal foraging not far away. Thinking it might be hyenas or worse, I found a piece of broken bottle and cut through the rope holding my hands. Reaching up to my face, I felt the two holes, one in each cheek.
“I used the last hour of darkness to walk back to my apartment, where I had a sewing kit. I cleaned and sutured my wounds. Then it was time to go hunting.
“Judas pissed his pants when he saw me, uttering the word ‘ghost.’ The coward gave up his accomplices before he met the fate he had intended for me.
“I spent the rest of the morning tracking down the others, letting each see me for a second or two before I killed them. Just long enough for them to mutter, or in one case, only mouth, ‘ghost.’
“I went on to help our man win his civil war, and a few years later, Reagan and Thatcher won their Cold War, banishing communism to the garbage dump of history.”