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| - The small airplane touched down on the dark, dirt runway. The pilot just opened the door and threw out the bags. Interrogator grabbed Killer and exited. The pilot closed the door and immediately took off. Picking up his bags, Interrogator looked around. He spotted a pay phone by the hangar, sighed, and pulled out his credit card. He dialed Serji's phone number and waited, dismayed at the static on the line. “General Serji Kirstov.” “Serji, that asshole Head Warden sent me to Africa!” Interrogator sighed sadly, “Thanks General. I'll keep you posted.” “Call me if the situation changes. Good night.”
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| abstract
| - The small airplane touched down on the dark, dirt runway. The pilot just opened the door and threw out the bags. Interrogator grabbed Killer and exited. The pilot closed the door and immediately took off. Picking up his bags, Interrogator looked around. He spotted a pay phone by the hangar, sighed, and pulled out his credit card. He dialed Serji's phone number and waited, dismayed at the static on the line. “General Serji Kirstov.” “Serji, that asshole Head Warden sent me to Africa!” Interrogator heard Serji light a cigarette before he said, “Interrogator, do you know what time it is in Moscow? Irrelevant. Africa, huh? I can't help you. All I can tell you is what I heard General Alexander Markov said once to my father. 'A smart hound can hunt anywhere, so long as he keeps his nose to the wind'.” Interrogator sighed sadly, “Thanks General. I'll keep you posted.” “Call me if the situation changes. Good night.” Interrogator hung up the phone and gathered his bags. An hour later an old, dusty jeep pulled up. A tall, lanky African man with an old British Calvary Sword got out and looked Interrogator over. He pulled out a photograph and a manila envelope. After looking at the picture he smiled at Interrogator and handed him the envelope. Interrogator took the envelope, broke the seal and tried to read the contents. He shook his head when he realized it was written in the native language. "Do you speak Russian," Interrogator asked the driver. The driver's smile never left his face as he said, "I went to a missionary school, so I can speak English. Reading, I am not so good at as my father sold me to the Boss at a young age." "Who is the Boss," asked interrogator? The driver continued to smile as he translated the letter, "Interrogator, you may call me the Boss. I am the dictator of all I see. You have been assigned to lead my security team. Sefu here is to be your aide and translator. I expect to see you shortly." "Pleased to meet you, Sefu," said interrogator as he held out his hand. Sefu shook it and said, "Pleased to meet you as well, Interrogator. We must hurry, the Boss is an impatient man Sefu helped Interrogator load his bags into the back seat of the jeep. Interrogator got in the passenger side and sat with Killer on his lap. “Sefu means 'Sword', because of the blade I carry. I hope you can fight better than the last Boss' head of security.” Interrogator replied, “I can defend myself pretty well, Sefu.” Sefu nodded, started the jeep, and drove to the Boss' camp.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)