Chapter 5

"It was April 1995 when I reached Geneva.

Inside the Palace of Nations, the long negotiating table was draped in dark green felt. The flags of the participating countries stood like silent sentinels in the corner.

I wore a tailored gray suit, with my hair pulled back in a severe bun, and the scar on my forehead was mostly concealed by foundation.

Adam sat to my left as my military advisor. To my right was the provisional government's foreign minister, a gentle old man who had studied in Moscow.

The American delegation entered precisely on time.

At the head was…