‘He won’t. Ken has already agreed to the deal.’

‘That’s why you set up this meeting today? To rubber-stamp this thing?’

Lang nodded. ‘Once Ken has announced his resignation, the Russians will whisk his family over from Karatandu. He can enjoy a quiet existence in Monte Carlo or Malta or wherever, enjoying the company of his friends and family, his money.’

‘The cash he’s trousered from his country’s oil and gas reserves, you mean.’

‘Spare me your sermonising. Ken’s a good man. He’s made a few mistakes in his time, but who ain’t? He brought stability to his country, peace. He put Karatandu on the map. If he was a white man, he would have been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by now.’

‘Maybe,’ said Bowman. ‘If he hadn’t butchered thousands of his own people.’

‘Our government kills people every day.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Is it?’

Mallet said, ‘I can see what Seguma stands to gain from this arrangement. But what’s your interest?’

‘I get my cut,’ Lang replied defensively. ‘That’s only reasonable. But I ain’t doing this for the money. I’m doing what’s right for Ken, and the good people of Karatandu.’

‘That’s what you tell yourself at night, is it?’

‘Piss off.’

Bowman said, ‘It’s a good deal, but Seguma would never get away with it. He’s a war criminal. The Hague would arrest him sooner or later. He’d end up in jail.’

Lang gave a lopsided smile. ‘The Russians have thought of that. There’s a back-up plan. If it looks like things might go that way, they’ll whisk him off to Moscow. He’ll see out his days in a luxury dacha.’

‘When is the coup happening?’ asked the Voice.

‘I’m only the middleman, for fuck’s sake. They didn’t share the details of the operation with me.’

Mallet slapped a hand down on the table so hard the room seemed to shake. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, if you want our help.’

‘You must have some idea of the timeline, surely,’ the Voice said.

Lang sighed heavily. ‘Look, all I know is that the Russians told me it would be happening sometime tomorrow. They didn’t say exactly when. That’s it. I don’t know nothing else.’

‘What about troops, tactics, key targets?’

‘I don’t know none of that.’ He paused, wrinkled his brow. ‘The Russian ambassador did mention something about a few guys they were sending in to Karatandu.’

‘What guys?’

‘Special Forces. Military advisers. We got pissed on vodka and the Russian started bragging about them. Said some blokes were going in to whip the KUF into shape. Turn ’em into professional soldiers. He reckoned Ken’s army wouldn’t stand a chance against them.’

‘How many guys are we talking about?’ asked Casey.

‘I don’t know.’