An even cursory survey of history suggested that the unparalleled equality and freedom the average person had enjoyed over the last seventy-five years was an aberration. Nothing more than a bubble created by a perfect storm of the postwar economic boom, industrial revolution, and rise of workers’ unions.

Now, though, that bubble was bursting. An international ruling class was forming. Borders were becoming increasingly meaningless to that privileged group, as was citizenship and the rule of law. Going forward, alliances would no longer be forged between countries so much as individuals and private entities. Those shrewd, strong, and courageous enough to rule would be given that privilege. A privilege that would quickly become an unassailable right. Nationality, patriotism, and religion would go back to what they had been in centuries past—a convenient way to control the masses.

“So, do we take our losses?” Cook said. “Both financial and with the Saudis? Or do we try to salvage this?”

“I don’t know, Tony. We’re in a unique position and unique means there’s not a lot of data to help us. The attack on the power grid scared the hell out of people and made them more willing to cede power to a strong leader. On the other hand, we’ve spent the last six months digging out of it. We’ve been looking backward, not forward like we expected.”

“Three and a half years left before the next election,” he said. “We talked about controlling this office for sixteen and beyond. Now I’m starting to worry whether I can even count on a second term. At some point we’re going to have to stop making excuses and start making the kind of moves that are going to get us where we want to be.”

Catherine looked up at the blank white of the ceiling, collecting her thoughts. “Gideon Auma’s not a man who likes being denied what he wants. And it’s unlikely that Chism—or Ward for that matter—will leave Uganda. Their research is too important.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that they’re still within Auma’s reach. We know he’s motivated, and we know the Saudis have access to him. Maybe he just needs a little guidance.”

18

OVER SOUTHWESTERN UGANDA

RAPP leaned a little farther through the helicopter’s open door, straining against his safety harness. Below, the details of an elaborate compound built into the top of a mountain came into sharp relief. The terrain around it was the same green he’d become accustomed to over the past few days, but somewhat less dense than where he’d found Chism and the American soldiers. To the west, Lake Edward gleamed beneath a cloudless sky.