The Dogs of War Page #4

are not available to anyone.

Stand there.

Say "Cheese" for the scrapbook.

The scrapbook?

It's where

you keep your memories.

And what's in yours?

Not too much.

Mr. Brown,

what are you really doing here?

I told you.

I'm studying birds.

Birds are smart. They migrate.

They know when

things are gonna change...

and they fly away.

Why don't we have dinner?

I'm late. Excuse me.

Whoa! Wait a minute!

Wait...

Mr. Brown.

Mr. Brown, can you hear me?

OK.

Mr. Brown, what are you

doing in Clarence?

Water.

Just tell me,

what are you doing in Clarence?

Water.

You are a naturalist,

are you not?

Right.

Why did you take

this picture of the garrison?

She's pretty...

isn't she?

Mr. Brown...

I am a doctor.

I was told to clean your wounds.

You are being deported.

Released.

Why?

One of the guards said...

an Englishman

has been here all day...

trying to talk with you,

interview you.

He also filed a formal protest

with the Swiss consul.

You have a friend, Mr. Brown.

You a prisoner?

Over four years.

What'd you do?

Bad judgment.

I was a candidate for president.

Dr. Okoye.

How would you know that?

The English... man...

my friend.

How long have I been here?

Since yesterday.

Why did they do this?

Possibly for being

in the wrong company.

The guard said

you were with Gabrielle Dexter.

She's one of Kimba's mistresses.

She... It was her?

No.

She's beautiful...

not treacherous.

Beauty is a currency.

Unfortunately,

here in Zangaro...

it only has value

in the presidential palace.

Have some of these.

Painkillers.

They'll help you.

Okoye.

Mr. Brown, can you tell us

why you were arrested?

What were conditions like

inside the prison?

Were you able to see

any other prisoners?

Mr. Brown...

they say Dr. Okoye is,

in fact, dead.

Can you confirm that?

Mr. Brown...

you can't leave Zangaro without

your passport, a**hole.

No fractures,

but I don't understand...

why the hell you didn't

see the doctor in Paris.

Still got blood in the urine?

Yeah.

Four, five, six.

Six healthy concussions

in the last three years.

Two crushed disks,

two temporal fractures...

one major pneumothorax,

perforated stomach...

a hundred bouts with

unheard-of tropical diseases...

a shitload of

arm and leg fractures...

dyscrasia, dysentery,

dyspepsia, dysuria...

dysphoria!

Anything starting with "D"

I didn't get?

Yeah... dead.

Henry, you've got to get

some new jokes.

I don't know what you got

planned for your old age...

or who you figure

on spending it with...

but I suggest you get at it.

You've taken a lot of years

off the back end of your life.

Thanks.

Why didn't you call me

as soon as you got back?

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