Here I am, knees caked in dirt, creeping between blades of grass as long as my arms. At one with nature, you could say — except for the silenced pistol in hand, or the arsenal packed on my back… or the GPS that led me here. Diamonds this’a way, it said. I was expecting some gruesome sight, of course: a deal gone bad, a transporter dead from heatstroke. Something like that. Instead, I ended up on the perimeter of a camp — the kind with actual, live people in it, and most people are pretty protective of their diamonds. There’s