‘Ma’am.’ Loader addressed the president’s wife, Christel Seguma. He waved a hand at Bowman. ‘This is my colleague, Josh. He’s going to wait here with you for a bit.’

‘Why?’ The brother spoke up. The smartly groomed guy in the embroidered silk tunic. Francis Seguma. The vice-president. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We need to move you and your relatives to a more secure part of the house, sir,’ Loader replied softly. ‘Josh will stay with you while I search the house for a good place for you to shelter in.’

‘Are we expecting trouble?’ asked the president’s wife.

‘It’s a possibility, ma’am. But if there is any shooting, me and the lads will take care of it. You won’t come to any harm.’

Francis Seguma let out a bitter laugh. ‘That is what Colonel Lubowa told us at the palace. He vowed to protect us from these . . . these animals. And look how that turned out!’

‘It’ll be different this time, sir,’ Bowman said. ‘Help is on the way.’

‘You expect us to believe that?’

‘It’s the truth, sir.’

‘And what are we supposed to do until then? Hide like cowards while these scum attack us?’

‘It’s for your own safety.’

The brother folded his arms. ‘Unacceptable. I demand to speak to my brother. We should be leaving the country while we still can, not waiting for these treacherous dogs to hunt us down.’

‘It’s too late for that, sir,’ Loader said. ‘The rebels have closed off the borders. We’re stuck here.’

Bowman was drowsy with tiredness. The fog in his mind was thickening. He tried to close his mind to it. To the sweats and the cravings, the intense cramping pain in his guts.

He said, ‘This isn’t up for debate, sir.’

‘Why can’t we stay here? This seems perfectly safe to me.’

‘Right now, maybe. But when the rounds start coming in, these windows won’t protect you. Trust me.’

The brother stared at him, fear gleaming in his eyes. He sighed.

‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘We will do as you wish. But if anything happens to my wife and daughters, or my brother’s family, I will hold you personally responsible.’

‘We’ll keep ’em safe, sir,’ Loader said, gently. ‘You have my word.’

He left the room and started down the corridor, leaving Bowman to guard the family. Francis Seguma and his wife were having a heated discussion while the president’s wife tended to her baby. The boys seemingly took no notice of their mother. Their eyes were glued to the garish images on the tablet screen. They were playing a cartoonish shoot ’em up. There was lots of tinny gunfire and zombie howls, and jaunty music.