Max didn't worry about this part. She was good at finding
plants. She had what might be called a single-minded focus.
"Look," said Stevens. "We're doing this right. Taking care
of the gorillas, working with the government. This could be the
role model for the future, the case that reopens ethnobotany
for the 21st century."
Fuck the gorillas, she thought. It was the vine she wanted.
So this was the point when she leaned forward in her chair,
ready to bargain.
And at her movement, the men smiled, for the first time sincerely.
They settled back, relaxing into their new position. The
chairs squeaking, the audible shift of power.
She'd never studied matters of negotiation, never learned
how to bargain. Perhaps like Rwanda and the primatologist,
she didn't end up striking the best deal.
To her, it didn't matter. She was going to Africa.
A Man Called Intrepid author dies aged 89(Dec 03 2013) William Stevenson, a journalist and author who drew on his close ties with intelligence sources to write two best-selling books in the 1970s, A Man Called...