Then she plugged her phone into her notebook and made a secure connection. She traced the call. What the hell is he doing in Congo? She booted up the satview. The globe spun and zoomed into an area of jungle in the DRC near the Rwandan border. There was a little flag on the mountainside. Why would Jim be in a place like that? She selected the Situations, Issues, Threats icon and a window opened and loaded. The scroll bar shrank and shrank. The software wasn’t loading a report: it was loading an encyclopedia of trouble. She scanned it. The tags said: Insurgency, Genocide, Civil War, Trafficking. Never mind deep shit, Jim had got himself into a major clusterfuck. The DRC was about as far away from her and America as you could get. It was in the middle of Africa and, as such, on the edge of the world. She called Max Davas. Max was waving his arm over the digital whiteboard.
