Mon pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and rubbed. The last teleconference had run almost an hour and half over, plagued by United Nations headquartersā substandard satellite internet and the pure obstinacy of the Russian ambassador.
She looked at the wall clock out of the corner of her eye and could barely register the red digital numbers. She blinked again and looked more closely.
āItās 12:34, madame,ā came a soft, accented voice. āIn the morning.ā
Mon didnāt have the energy to be startled. She simply looked at the slender, sharp-figured man standing in the dimly-lit doorway of her office, then said, āYou are ā?āĀ
āPerdĆ³n,ā he said, putting up his hands. āYour aide said I could come in.ā He took a step back. āShould I come back later?ā
Mon blinked again, focusing her eyes and taking him in. A loose thought danced into her mind: That suit fits too well on him. Then: I am far too tired to be thinking that about a man I just met.Ā
āNo.ā She pushed herself to her feet and extended her hand. He shook it with a firm, almost uncomfortably callused grip, then sat.
āCaptain Cassian Andor,ā he said. āIām with MONUSā ā the long-time UN peacekeeping mission for Sokonno ā āBut Iām here to provide security for you, for the conference.ā
Mon inclined her head. āGood to meet you, Captain. Iām Mon Mothma, the special envoy for Sokonno.ā She settled back into her seat. āI apologize for not being able to see you sooner, itās been a long week.ā
āItās fine, madam. Iām just in from Kayez myself.ā Andorās voice was throaty and warm, but Mon heard urgency in his tone.Ā
āKayez?ā Mon leaned forward in her chair. āI wasnāt aware that MONUS had a base in the north.ā Kayez was the entire reason she was here, and why the conference was happening in the first place. The discovery of gold in Sokonnoās northern border area was both a potential economic boon but also a massive destabilizing force. The Sokonnese military, Sahelian jihadists, Russian private military companies were all circling.
āMONUS doesnāt.ā Andor leaned forward. āI went with my commanding officerās permission.āĀ
Mon pursed her lips. Colonel Luthen Rael, the commanding officer of MONUS, was a long-time Swedish Army officer but had been in peacekeeping in Africa for years; he was both renowned for his effectiveness and criticized for exceeding his mandate.Ā
āI gather you did not go wearing a uniform,ā she said, almost not wanting to hear what the captain was about to tell her.Ā
āNo. First I posed as a tourist, then as a mining liaison. Then as a journalist.ā Andor saw the look on her face and paused.
āCaptain,ā Mon said. āItās highly ā¦ unorthodox to pose as a journalist. It may put legitimate journalists in danger if certain actors think that journalists could be undercover soldiers or spies.ā
Andor gave a small, dismissive huff. āMadam, Iām from MĆ©xico. Everyone already thinks journalists are spies.ā
Mon stiffened. The Mexican contribution to MONUS was small, but highly specialized. āI have to ask, captain, if you were part of that stunt a few months ago? The Nguessi incident.ā
āDo you mean the hostage rescue?ā Andor looked back at her, his dark eyes calm and unwavering. āI was the commanding officer, yes.ā
āI mean the photos, afterward. The ones that were posted on Telegram.ā She felt tension crackle up her spine.Ā
āI didnāt take the photos,ā Andor said. āThat was Major Markiās idea. She was the one who found the jihadistsā private Telegram group, off the leaderās phone. She thought she would let them know what happened to the men they sent, courtesy of MONUS.ā
āAnd whose idea was it to spell out āNe revenez pasā using the terroristsā weapons?ā Mon asked.Ā
āHer French is better than mine,ā said Andor, with a small smile. āThey havenāt come back, either.ā
Mon sighed. āThat bright idea almost got all of MONUS thrown out of the country, you know. And your Fuerzas Especiales detachment sent home.ā
āBut you fought to keep us,ā said Andor. āAnd weāre still here.ā
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