Kathy observed the scene dispassionately. She was surprised at her ambivalence, but under closer scrutiny during a later moment of introspection, she would realise that her exhaustion and relief deadened her senses.
‘How did you know?’
Kathy turned to see a group of inquisitive, wide-eyed colleagues staring at her.
‘I suspected something was wrong when the South African turned up alive and well, when he was reported as having died in the plane crash. I had a friend hack into our server and we found that Craig had changed the original story. Further investigation uncovered links between him and Inspector Albert.’
‘Where is Busha George?’ one of the reporters asked.
‘No one has seen him since that episode on Blue Mountain,’ Kathy said absentmindedly.
They watched as their chief editor, Craig Bishop, was taken away in handcuffs.
‘Mr. Johnson, how did this happen?’
‘We are looking into it now Mr. President.’
‘What do we have so far?’
‘Well, it is inconclusive at the moment.’
‘Let me hear it.’
‘Well, the trail ends here.’
‘What? Inside the Oval Office!’
‘No, sir. Inside the White House.’
‘You are saying that not only was one of our satellites repurposed without our knowledge, but there was a security breach within the White House also?’
Mr. Johnson touched his tie. ‘We are still looking into the matter.’
‘Mr. Johnson, no other president may have been able to get rid of you, but mark my words, I will surely dislodge you if you can’t satisfactorily get to the bottom of this matter. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, Mr. President.’ Using his little finger, Mr. Johnson scratched behind his ear.
Jean Michel Mbozi surveyed the eager and hungry faces in front of him. He cleared his throat.
‘Back in 1961, President John F. Kennedy made an appeal to the people of America, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” At that time, in that place, that was the appropriate rallying call to a people who needed to unite and work together to build a nation. We need to build more than a nation; we need to build a continent. Our continent is the bedrock of civilisation; our continent was once the richest on the planet; our people were once the thought leaders of the world.’ He paused and looked around the room, establishing eye contact with as many as he could, as far back in the room as he could.
‘But what of today? Our continent is the home to the poorest countries in the world. Death, pestilence, famine and war are synonymous with our continent, and our people are denied the simple right...‘ He paused again and scanned the room. He leaned forward and speaking softly he added, ‘...the simple right of opportunity.’
Everyone in the room leaned forward, and Jean Michel had to catch himself to avoid a smile from slipping out. He raised a hand, and with a stern countenance allowed his voice to return to its normal tone.
‘My compatriots, I say to you today that this must change, and it will not change by our people asking what they can do for their country, but by their leaders ushering in a new era of vision, partnership and integrity. An integrity that demands that our people must be seated at the table first; that our people must eat and drink first; that our people must reap the fruit of their land and their labour.’ His voice steadily grew in volume. ‘So I say today, ask not what you can do for your country, but what your leaders can do for you!’
The audience rose in unison with thunderous applause throughout the entire conference hall. The United African Congress Conference banners hanging from the balconies of the second floor swayed in concert with the rumbling sound of the pounding feet. President Mbozi stepped back from the podium and bowed deferentially, clasping his hands in front of his chest.