14
Raining Bullets
We brought Mobutu out into the courtyard in his kimono, hands tied behind his back and a rifle to his head. An air raid siren horn was already blaring and Mobutu was hurling abuse at us in Congolese. Clarence rolled open the gate and we ran him through the perimeter. Suddenly, I stopped, yanking the general back by the elbow.
Clarence turned and threw out his arms. “What?”
I looked back towards the whorehouse. “I’m going to let the women go.”
“Negative,” Inge said.
“No time,” Clarence said. “We’re leaving.”
“It doesn’t matter what you do,” said Mobutu. “The soldiers in the compound are just my personal guard. The rest of my men will be here any moment. And tomorrow, I’ll be wearing your skin for shoes.”
I punched Mobutu in the gut, shocking the words right out of
