Lords of Corruption (6 page)

Josh nodded sympathetically but was actually barely listening. Instead he was calculating the payments on his student loans and making assumptions about financial aid for Laura's college tuition. Forty thousand was incredibly low. It was a number that forced him to consider what he could make running the service center of a decent-sized car dealership.

"What we can do, though, is support you in less direct ways," Trent continued. "For instance, we'll make the payments on your student loans as long as you work for us. Our donors value education, so it's not such a hard sell."

That made Josh stop thinking about rebuilding transmissions and focus on the conversation again.

"We also provide full medical benefits for you and your family. If and when you might decide to start one."

"I have a sister," Josh said.

"Well, what we're talking about is more for wives and kids."

Josh didn't react, and Trent smiled. "Let me see what I can do. In fact, let's just say we'll figure out a way to get your sister on the policy."

Josh nodded noncommittally.

"We also cover most tuition for your dependents. Normally that wouldn't include your sister, but for the sake of argument
,
let's say it does. Is she in school?"

"She graduates high school this year." "Then we'd cover the costs of her college."

"When you say cover . . ."

"I mean cover. Tuition and living expenses as long as she lives on campus. Also, I want you to keep in mind that all your housing, food, and expenses are taken care of when you're in Africa. So while the salary doesn't sound that impressive, most of our people just have it deposited in a bank here in the States and never touch it. Compare that with how much you'd be able to save living in New York -- even if you were making five times as much."

Josh leaned back in his chair and struggled to keep his expression hovering between skepticism and mild boredom. Trent was talking about Laura having medical coverage for the first time in her life and getting to go to an Ivy League school instead of shopping around for the cheapest in-state school they could find. If he worked at NewAfrica for five years, Laura would graduate from college free of debt, he'd have the better part of two hundred grand in the bank, and he could play his experience and philanthropy against his criminal record to prospective employers. And as an adde
d b
onus, he'd get to see the world and maybe help a few people out along the way.

Unless, of course, somebody hacked his head off with a machete.

"I've had some time to do a little more research on the part of Africa you operate in, Stephen. It seems really . . . fascinating."

In truth, he hadn't needed to do any research at all. Laura had gone nuts on the subject, following him around reading excerpts from the information she found surfing the Net and poring over books and magazines. But when balanced against the compensation package Trent had just rolled out, what did a little brutal violence, deadly disease, and crushing poverty matter?

"I won't lie to you, Josh. We're not talking about sending you to London, here. It's an area with a lot of problems. If it wasn't, they wouldn't need us."

"From what I read, a lot of charities have pulled out."

Trent nodded. "The country is basically split into three sections. In the North the Xhisa tribe has a strong majority. It's the seat of the government, and that's where some very profitable mining goes on. Overall, it's fairly stable. In the South, the Yvimbo have a weak majority, and there's a fair amount of tribal violence and rebe
l a
ctivity."

"And the middle section?"

"Is where you'd be working," Trent replied. "There have been a lot of refugees coming up from the South to escape the fighting -- both Xhisa andYvimbo. So we're working there to get the people out of the refugee camps and back to productive lives."

"The president of the country is Xhisa, right?"

Trent nodded. "Umboto Mtiti. He's a decent guy who's working hard to unite the country, but it's an almost insurmountable task. Tribal animosity runs deep in that part of the world."

It was an interesting take on the situation and more or less mirrored the sentiments of the American press. Laura had been more thorough than that, though, and she'd printed articles from all over the world. The European papers made no bones about Mtiti getting and holding his position through brutality and corruption but conceded that allowing a power vacuum to be created would be a dead end for his country. The South Africans were more pessimistic, with one editorial suggesting the country was completely hopeless and going the way of Somalia and Sudan.

"Sounds exciting."

"I guarantee it."

"So what would I be doing?"

Trent smiled. "You'd be managing a Yvimbo agricultural project not too far from one of the main refugee areas. The hope is that we can move a bunch of people out of the camps and into this self-sustaining farming community within a year or so."

"And when would I need to make a decision?"

"I'm sorry to say that we basically needed an answer yesterday. The project's adrift, and we're a little desperate."

Chapter
6.

"Don't touch that!"

Josh released the box in his hands and let it drop back onto the table. Fawn was standing in the middle of the trailer, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"That stuff's valuable and it's complicated and it has to stay in order."

"Order?" Josh said, looking around the tiny trailer at the boxes stacked on virtually every surface. There was no writing on the sides, so he peeked into an open one, ignoring Fawn's noisy protests. It was full of large plastic bottles. According to the labels, most contained diet pills, but some also made vague promises about liver function and increased muscularity.

"Stop it! Get away from those."

He dipped a hand into an open box nestled behind the kitchen table and came up with a container of pills that claimed to be the ancient secret to penis enhancement.

"So this is it? This is your new business?"

Fawn snatched the bottle from his hand. "While you're off in Africa, someone has to take care of this family."

He actually managed to laugh, and for a moment his fantasies about killing Fawn became less violent -- tending toward strangulation as opposed to throwing her in a vat of battery acid. The power of gainful employment to bolster his mood was no less than amazing. And the two thousand dollars in cash Trent had given him to help with moving expenses was making him downright giddy.

"Well, I appreciate the contribution, Fawn. I really do. But I have a rental car full of my stuff from school, and there doesn't seem to be anywhere to put it."

Fawn smiled and retreated a bit until she was standing as close to his mother as her boxes of medical miracles would allow. Clearly not a good sign, but the roll of hundred-dollar bills straining the worn seams of his wallet would undoubtedly soften the blow. "Okay, Mom," he said. "Go ahead. Let's hear it."

She was sitting in a threadbare orange velour chair that he remembered being delivered when he was barely old enough to see over the arm. Her eyes were their typical red, and a cigarette hung loosely from her fingers. He'd been worried about her smoking for a long time, but honestly it seemed like every year she had less energy to actually take a drag. It was quickly becoming nothing more than a carcinogenic security blanket.

"Sweetie, you're not going to be around much. We were thinking you could put your things in the shed. It'll be okay there she's not leakin' anymore since you fixed her."

Josh sighed quietly. "Look at all this, Momma. Is this the kind of thing you want Laura around?"

She put an elbow on the arm of the chair and propped the side of her head on her hand. Gravity had its way with her sagging skin, and for a moment she became almost unrecognizable. "Laura'll be okay. Laura's smart."

"Yeah, Laura's smart, Mom. But she's just a kid. She's . . ." He let his voice trail off. How many times had they had this conversation? What was the point?

He threw his duffel over his shoulder and started toward the door.

"Hey, Josh."

When he looked back, Fawn threw the bottle of penis-enhancing pills at him. I
t w
as only a lucky catch that kept them from hitting him in the face.

"On the house," she said. "You know what they say about those African guys. I'd hate for you not to measure up."

Josh pushed through the screen and out into the sun, taking a deep breath of air that didn't smell of old tobacco and even older mold. There had been happier times. Or maybe that was just his mind contorting the past into something better than it really was. It didn't really matter. What was the harm in slipping on a pair of rose-colored glasses when you looked backward?

The trail that had been faint in his youth was nonexistent now. It didn't matter, though, he could have found the way blindfolded.

Josh navigated through the loose rocks and tangled underbrush, reveling in the peaceful silence like he always had. To his left, the slope dropped off steeply, leading down to a small ridge obscuring the trailers that made up his neighborhood and giving him the impression that he was the last person on earth. Sometimes not such an unpleasant fantasy.

Laura had been gone when he'd come out of the trailer, but it wasn't hard to figur
e o
ut where. He plunged into a tangle of dense bushes, holding his hands out in front of him to protect his face.

When he emerged, it was into a clearing dominated by an ancient oak tree with an elaborate tree house in its branches. Working seven days a week with lumber stolen from a nearby construction site, he and Laura had taken an entire summer to buil
d i
t
..

Laura had been eight years old at the time, and their mother had been dating one of the more abusive assholes she'd ever gotten involved with. The construction project had been a great excuse to get him and Laura out of the house until that prick had finally moved on.

He walked to within a few yards of the trunk and looked up at the bottom of the deck fifteen feet above and the tennis-shoeclad feet hanging over its edge.

"Laura! Come down from there. It's not safe anymore."

She leaned forward and peered down at him. For the first time, he could see a very different future for her: a nice house, a good job, and a husband who loved her. Maybe a few kids and an SUV with a bumper sticker bragging about their grade school academic victories.

"So did they tell you?" she called down.

"About being moved into the shed? Yeah."

He climbed up and entered through the trap door leading into the enclosed section of the house. It was more or less empty now, but still dry and surprisingly solid. A testament to his adolescent engineering skills.

"I don't want you to go," she said as he took a seat beside her. "Forget about this and stay here with us. You could get a job in town."

"Doing what?"

"Who cares?"

"I care, Laura. This is an opportunity for both of us to get out of here. To do something better."

"The place they're sending you is horrible and dangerous. A lot of times there's no electricity, and there are all these diseases, and people get killed every day." She turned to look directly at him. "Do you know how? They don't just use guns, sometimes they

"Enough, okay? I've heard the gory details. That's why I'm going, right? To try to change all that."

"Because you're such an expert on Africa?"

"Jesus, Laura. You act like I'm an idiot or something."

She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and held it up. There was a map of Africa with no country names printed on it. "Point to where you're going."

He squinted at all the little colored blocks, but the truth was they all looked about the same.

"You've been waiting all day to do that, haven't you?"

"I'm not stupid either, Josh. This is it, isn't it? This is the only job you could get."

There was no point in lying -- she'd see through it.

"This is a good gig for us, Laura. I --" "Because it'll pay for my school? I can take care of myself."

"That's what I hear."

She lay back on the rough wood and stared up at the sky through the leaves spread out above them. "There are so many evil, stupid people in the world, and you're the one who can't get a job. It's not fair."

"You know what they say about life being fair."

"Don't do this for me, Josh. If something happened to you, I wouldn't know what to do." Her eyes began to fill with tears, and it brought back memories of the last time he'd seen her cry. His sentencing.

"It's going to be okay," he said, lying bac
k b
eside her. "I don't think I'd have liked sitting behind a desk all day anyway."

Chapter
7.

Josh shaded his eyes and watched two shirtless men tossing the luggage out of the plane. None of the other passengers seemed alarmed when their suitcases crashed onto the pavement, and he mimicked their disinterested calm as one of his duffels made the eight-foot drop.