This time he spoke quietly enough that only those closest to him would hear. But his words would be repeated to the others. And not only the ones who had accompanied him on this raid. To ones who had been left at the encampment. It would become part of his legend. Part of his canon.

“Find the white man!”

Auma’s fighters averted their eyes as he strode through the hallway. They’d found nothing, but there was no way that Chism had escaped. The facility was surrounded. Every road and path was being watched. Every village where he could take refuge had been infiltrated. He was there. Of that, Auma was certain. God had whispered it in his ear.

But time was running out. Dawn was bearing down on them and the rain was starting to abate. With the sunrise would come the Ugandan authorities.

“Burn it,” he told his second-in-command—a nineteen-year-old who had proved eminently loyal in the seven years since Auma had captured him. “Start at the back. We’ll drive him to us like an animal.”

Auma turned and started for the front of the building. It was hard to imagine what this would mean for his movement. Chism’s benefactor would pay virtually anything to get him back. And with that money, he could buy the weapons necessary to take Uganda. After that, Congo and beyond. The ranks of his disciples would grow from a few hundred men huddled in the forest to millions living out in the open in cities and rural areas. Paying tribute to him. Spreading his message throughout the continent and the world.

The Word of God. The Word of Gideon Auma.

“Smoke! I smell smoke.”

David Chism tried to find a more comfortable position on the hard floor but there was none. Odongo had done his customary impeccable job of camouflaging the safe room but hadn’t given much thought to creature comforts. Basically, a six-foot cube with no furniture or lights.

“Can you smell it?” Liu repeated in the darkness. “The smoke?”

“I don’t smell anything,” Ricci said.

“It’s because of your cigarettes,” she responded in a harsh whisper. “Your nose doesn’t work now!”

“Shhh!” Chism said. “I think it’s just your imagination, Jing. This is a really stressful…”

His voice faltered when he realized that she was right.

A moment later, a second alarm joined the one that had been wailing relentlessly since before Odongo had sequestered them in that hole. The pitch of it was familiar from the regular fire drills he’d insisted on.

“They’re going to burn us to death!” she said.

Shit.

“All right,” Chism said. “You two stay put. I’m going to go have a look.”