Free Minute Zero by Todd Moss

master. He used to sleep with the wives of his ministers, just to show them who’s boss. I don’t think Tino’s got that kind of stamina left in him. But Tino has been accelerating the rotation of his security detail. This suggests he is worried about internal plots. The only constant has been his national security advisor, General Chimurenga. He’s the only one Tino seems to trust.”
    “So what’s Tino’s game plan?”
    “My assessment is that Tino is stuck. He still views himself as the father of the nation. He wants to defend the country from all of the forces he spent his whole life fighting. But he’s lost the fire in his belly. Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s fatigue. No one knows. But he isn’t showing any signs that he’s ready to quit. My hunch is that he just can’t imagine Zimbabwe without himself as president.”
    “What about the rest of the party?”
    “They’re locked in, too,” Sunday said. “The party bosses have all spent so many years manipulating each other, building their own little empires, repeating the same propaganda. No one even knows what the truth is any longer. They long ago started believing their own lies. Everyone is frozen. They’re all stuck in ice.”
    “So how do we crack the ice?”
    Sunday tilted his head and gave Judd a mischievous smile.
    “What exactly do you mean, Dr. Ryker?”
    Judd leaned forward. “If the United States wanted to break up the ice, to help create a whole new system, something better, how would we do that?”
    “Do we
want
to do that?”
    “Consider it a hypothetical, Sunday. If I wanted to do this, what would I do first?”
    “Isn’t regime change a bit above the pay grade of a State Department office director?” Sunday’s grin grew wider.
    Judd nodded, accepting the challenge. “Is the CIA supposed to be providing objective analysis or second-guessing civilian officials?”
    “Is that what’s happening here? Am I an analyst briefing a policy maker, or is this just two friends chatting in the park?”
    “You’re right,” Judd said. “Let me rephrase my question. Between friends, of course. If the President of the United States determined it was in the interest of American foreign policy to shake things up in Zimbabwe, the best way to do this would be to—”
    “Kill President Tinotenda,” said Sunday, with a casual shrug.
    Judd sat back in the bench and exhaled.
    “Obviously,” added Sunday.
    “Okay, okay,” Judd said. “If we don’t want to do that—”
    “Technically, that would be illegal.”
    “Yes, of course,” Judd said. “If assassination is off the table, what other steps might be taken?”
    “You could attack their business interests. You could try to break up the support base. You could try to lure some of Tinotenda’s allies into challenging him. The key to these tactics is all the same. You have to convince people that change has arrived, that Tinotenda is on his way out. As soon as people believe it, they’ll jump faster than you can say ‘Every man for himself.’ No one wants to be the last rat on a sinking ship.”
    “What about leaking rumors that Tino is dead or dying?”
    “Sure, but how long would it last? Only until he got on TV.”
    “What about supporting the opposition?”
    “Nope.”
    “‘Nope’?” Judd leaned forward again.
    “No,” Sunday said.
    “Why not? That seems like the logical thing to do. Lend support to Gugu Mutonga and help her win a democratic election. What’s wrong with that strategy?”
    “Won’t happen. Simba Chimurenga would never allow it.”
    “Chimurenga,” Judd said flatly. “He’s the national security advisor?”
    “That’s his official title, yes. And army chief. But his real power comes from his personal relationship with the president.”
    “Are they family?”
    “We don’t think so, but Tino treats him like blood. Not quite a son, but maybe a nephew. They either have some special bond or they have dirt on each other. Probably both.”
    “Are