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Twice we're lined up against a wall to be shot as spies. Twice the commandant changes his mind. Instead, he finally says, we're to be fed to the crocodiles in the nearby Luapula River. Back into the truck and a drive down to the river. Then into an old wooden boat pushed by an outboard motor.
It's not every day that you wake up to discover that your old friend might have murdered the prime minister of Sweden. And it's not every day that you learn that the same old friend might also have bombed the Stockholm and London offices of the African National Congress.