The Golden Hour by Todd Moss Read Free Book Online Page A

Boubacar Maiga, wearing a crisp royal blue boubou, was sitting at an enormous ebony desk signing some papers. Behind him hovered the Malian flag on a pole, and large photos of Mali’s cultural sites adorned the walls. Judd recognized the Great Mosque of Djenné, the world’s largest mud building. He also eyed photos of the smaller but no less significant Great Mosque of Timbuktu, painted boats along the Niger River, and the villages built into cliffs in Dogon Country. In front of the desk was a semicircle of a dozen heavy burgundy chairs.
    “Madam Ambassador!” Maiga looked up, removed his reading glasses, and swooped out from behind the desk with surprising speed for such a large man. Maiga spread his wings like a giant blue bat, and hugged Larissa James, enveloping the diminutive ambassador.
    “And Dr. Ryker. Welcome! Welcome to Koulouba! I understand you are already an expert on Mali and have helped my country with our water problems. Thank you for coming back to honor us with your visit.”
    “Yes, Mr. President, this is Dr. Judd Ryker.” Larissa was recovering from the bear hug.
    “Thank you, Mr. President. I am honored to be back. Thank you for making time to see me.”
    Maiga extended a beefy hand, and the two of them awkwardly held the handshake while cameras snapped away. Still holding Judd’s grip, Maiga turned to a TV camera.
    “We welcome our American friends here today. The visit of such a high-level official from the government of the United States of America shows our close partnership. We will today discuss cooperation on malaria, road construction, and bringing American businesses to Mali.”
    All eyes and cameras turned to Judd. Larissa gave him a little nod of encouragement.
    “Yes, thank you. I am pleased to be in Mali today and to meet with President Maiga. America is a good friend to Mali. We will, um, we will discuss many things today.” After a long pause, Judd simply nodded. Maiga then released Judd’s hand, and waved away the press.
    The three of them took their seats in the center, with each entourage taking their place down the line. Behind Maiga stood a tall soldier at attention. His uniform was several sizes too large for his skinny frame, but a chest full of ribbons and a flat-topped cap with stars announced he was a general.
    “Mr. President,” Judd began. “I’m here on a regional tour to evaluate the potential for conflict in West Africa. My office deals with crisis reaction, so I’m here to discuss the situation in the north.”
    “Yes, yes. The north. We are working closely with our American friends to fight malaria in the north. It is going well, but we need to accelerate if we are going to reach our targets. We need more bed nets and the next-generation insecticides from American companies. I was promised these.”
    Judd turned to Larissa, who accepted his cue. “Yes, Mr. President. I have passed your request to Washington and I appreciateyour patience. Dr. Ryker will, I am sure, reinforce that message when he gets back to headquarters.”
    “Yes, Mr. President,” added Judd. “I know the U.S. government is slow, but I will speak with the malaria teams in Washington and see what can be done. What about security in the north?”
    “I have been waiting for eight months on the insecticides. Do I have your word you will make inquiries on Mali’s behalf?”
    “You do, Mr. President.”
    “Very well. Our military is working hard to control the north and to control the borders. We are talking to the Tuareg leaders. We are investing in the north. We are building wells and schools, with our American partners. That is also why the malaria campaign is so important. But we still have a bandit problem.”
    “What about smuggling?”
    “There has always been smuggling in the north, Dr. Ryker. I am certain you already know this. It is part of the culture of the Sahara. Our military is trying their best to keep things under control, but it is very difficult.” Maiga turned