by R G Ainslee
"Beats me, maybe he's come to rescue us."
"Your handsome friend," cooed Alix. "Perhaps I should stay."
"You're on that plane, no two ways about it. You ready Roger?"
"Yes, now if you will reconsider—"
"You ain't getting that tape, forget it."
Alix guided him out of the vehicle and turned to me. "Au revoir mon cheri." She grabbed my face and planted a big wet kiss on my lips. I couldn't help but respond.
She twirled away and proceeded with Roger to the plane. Roger shuffled along, moving slowly. They halted midway to speak briefly with Jack and then ascended the stairs. I stood transfixed by a confused mixture of dutiful relief and feral regret.
Jack took a quick look back, just as Alix sashayed through the door. He eyed me with amusement. "See you made a new friend."
Amadeo was no help. "You ain't heard half the story."
"Okay, okay, all that can wait for later. What's up? Wilson don't trust us, think we need some help."
Jack glanced around and nodded to Ali. "We need to talk with a little more privacy."
"He's good, no habla Enlges."
"Wilson has a new idea to get the signal—"
"No problem. Got it last night."
"You what?"
"The tape's in my pocket as I speak. One-hundred percent success. We just need to get back home. Ask Ali here, maybe we can get on tomorrow's flight out."
Jack took a deep breath. "Wrong direction, we need to move south. Something new has come up. I'll fill you in later … You really—"
I nodded. "Sure did, Joe's rig worked like a wonder."
"Good work." He looked at Amadeo with a broad grin, "Now tell me about Ross and this Alix chick."
22 ~ Harry
Tuesday, 7 October 1980, Djanet, Algeria
Air America endured a reputation as a rogue operation during the war in Southeast Asia. The CIA-operated airline's pilots and employees regarded as flamboyant adventurers engaged in all sorts of illegal operations. In truth, they were responsible, hard working men who worked courageously under difficult and dangerous conditions. However, as in any operation, there were a few bad apples.
We pulled into the compound, Dylan and Harry sauntered out to meet us. "What's that maggot doing here," asked Jack with a severe edge to his voice.
"You remember Dylan from Bayonne." I said, wondering what the problem was.
"I mean that SOB Dawson. He paused, glared at me with fire in his eyes. "I asked you, what the hell's he doing here?"
"That's his plane, or more accurately Penwell's Twin Beech, back at the airport. The one I pointed out to you. He works for Penwell … or did. How do you—"
Jack leapt out of the Land Rover and jumped in Harry's face before I could finish. "You remember me?"
"Sorry mate can't say I do," Harry answered apprehensively. "We met somewhere?"
"You remember 1970, Udorn, Thailand? You recall picking up a load to haul to a Special Forces camp in Laos?"
"Why mate, I flew lot of—"
"You ain't forgot the load of beer you stole? The load supposed to go to Delta-Seven-Niner."
Harry's eyes betrayed his guilt in a flash of recognition. "Mate, I don't know what you mean."
Jack bellowed, "This bastard stole a whole plane load of beer. Cost me a month's pay." He swiveled back to Harry. "This thieving maggot disappeared with the entire load … lock stock, and barrel. They discovered his C-123 at the Bangkok airport, empty, and this SOB nowhere to be found."
Dylan piped up, "Sounds like a shootable offense." He turned to Harry. "Don't ya think mate."
Harry backed away, hands in front of him, "Mate, that was a long time ago, I … I—"
Jack leaped forward and in one swift blow, cold-cocked him, sending Harry to the ground, unconscious bleeding from the mouth. "That's just the first installment. You sorry bastard."
"You blokes take your drink seriously, don't ya," said Dylan.
"Sure as hell, worked for a month on that deal."
Dylan chuckled. "Your first mistake was to trust an Aussie with a load of grog."
"We were stuck out on an isolated hole in the jungle. Then some SOB like this comes along…" Jack took a deep breath, backed off, and turned to me. "Sorry, lost it for a moment, brought back old memories."
"No problem, we needed a replacement for Alix. Looks like you got the job."
Jack appeared puzzled and Amadeo supplied the answer. "That Alix chick was a wild one in more ways than one. She just about sliced old Harry a new one. He sure was relieved to see her go."
I slapped Jack on the shoulder and headed towards the door to the house. "Come on let's talk."
Jack held his ground. "We need to go somewhere private. Like away from here."
"Okay, let's get a bite to eat first and we'll go for a drive afterwards."
* * *
Jack, Amadeo, and I piled into one of the Land Rovers and drove out of town, to an isolated spot in the desert. — In fact, all the spots in the desert are isolated, but we picked one where we wouldn't get stuck. — I drove up a wadi east of town, parked, and we climbed up a hill to view the sunset. It was still hotter'n hell.
First, I filled Jack in on the events in Tamanrasset, our trip to Djanet, and the capture and interrogation of Harry Dawson. Then went into more detail about the flight into Libya, "…and that about covers everything. You can't say it's been uneventful."
"Hell, you just about wiped out the whole French contingent in this operation. How'd you think that's going to set with the count back in Paris."
"At this point I don't give a flying-flip what the French think. Guess they just don't have much staying power. Speaking of staying power, how's my wife?"
"I escorted her and the kid, along with her SDECE minders to the Seychelles. That's where the count's people took over. She was polite but cool, didn't have a lot to say."
"Yeah, guess it's over for me?"
"See you're doing pretty good in the replacement department."
"Don't even go there … now tell me what's Wilson up to."
"He wants us out of here on the next available plane. He sent me down to convey the message personally. John Smith picked up on the count's security problems and didn't trust the French to deliver it intact."
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's hard to pull one over on John."
"We need to find out if we can get a flight out to Algiers and then on to Paris. We'll meet Wilson and fly direct down to Bangui in the Central African Republic. The French have a base there."
"Then what? Bangui's a long way from where Marsden's located."
"Well from there, we head back north to N'Djamena in Chad to meet up with John. He's got some plans laid out but didn't say what they were. What do you think?"
"Gotta better idea."
Jack appeared skeptical and gave me that here-we-go-again look.
"We got our own plane now. All we gotta do is refuel and boogie down to Bangui town."
Jack grinned. "Okay, what about Wilson? He's expecting us in Paris. I'm supposed to contact him with our arrival time."
I shrugged. "We'll telex him in the morning and tell him we're going south POV."
Amadeo chuckled. "Yeah, POV, privately owned vehicle, he'll get a kick out of that one."
Jack said, "I don't know—"
"He should be happy. We'll save a couple of days' travel time, plus some money on airfare. What could go wrong?"
Amadeo asked, "What about Harry?"
"We'll take him with us, can't leave him here."
Jack spoke up, "Sure we can … there's a good spot to bury him over there. The sand looks nice and soft."
"We need him. The papers for the Twin Beech are assigned to him. He may come in handy."
Amadeo nodded in agreement. "He's right on this one."
Jack inhaled an exasperated breath. "Okay, when do we go? But if he gives us trouble…"
I said, "We don't need to hang around here, how about taking o
ff ASAP, right after we telex Wilson?"
"You sure you can fly that crate"
"Don't sweat it. Made it back alright, didn't I?"
Amadeo said, "I'm goin with Ross. You can go back to Paris and tell Wilson, we'll meet him in Bangui."
"Yeah, right." Jack shook his head. "Okay. … I'm aboard, but I don't get good vibes from this Ali guy," said Jack. "He's been asking too many questions. You say he's Roger's man?"
Amadeo responded, "Said he was a reliable agent, or something to that effect. You sense a problem with him?"
"I got a drift from Wilson the French were concerned about something here, but he wouldn't elaborate."
"Roger was worried too, but trusted Ali," said Amadeo.
I said, "Let's go back and discuss it with Dylan, he's in on this too."
"You trust him?" queried Jack.
"He hasn't given me reason not to."
"Okay, good enough … but for the record, you guys are the only ones I trust on this operation, we don't need another FUBAR. By the way, I couldn't bring my weapons. What you got?"
"Some Torks, Macs, AK's and a couple of Škorpions."
"And the Walther," said Amadeo.
"No, Alix took it with her."
Amadeo looked surprised. "What if—"
"They ain't gonna search no woman on an Algerian airline."
"You sure?"
"Whatever … it's her problem now."
* * *
Back at Ali's place, I motioned for Dylan to join us. We walked out to the Land Rover parked in the compound. Amadeo stayed behind to keep an eye on Harry. Dusk had settled and it was still hot, especially with the windows up.
Dylan spoke first, "Well what did you blokes come up with?" His voice had a harsh edge.
I sensed trouble. "You got a problem?"
"Yeah, you got rid of the Frenchies, am I next?"
"No, but if you want out," I nodded towards the gate, "you're free to leave."
Jack said, "One thing I've wondered about, why are you here? What do the Brits have—"
"Look mate, I'm here on orders, just as you are, I suspect." He glared at me. "I'll ask one more time, what kind of plan did you blokes come up with?"
I outlined my plan, he sat pensively, not commenting, but I could tell he wasn't convinced.
"…and when we get to Bangui we wait for further orders. What do you think?"
"I can think of a hundred reasons why it's a load of bollocks … but…"
"But what?"
"But it might work … and I can't think of nothing better … so, count me in. What about our friend Harry Dawson?"
"Do you believe we can trust him?"
"No, but he can be controlled."
"I'll see to that little detail," said Jack. "Still think we need to stuff him somewhere."
Dylan gave an approving nod, accompanied by a knowing smile.
"Only one other problem, we gotta fuel the plane. Not sure if we got enough cash. You guy's got any money on you?"
Jack grinned. "Wilson gave me fifteen hundred dollars for airfare and expenses. We can use that if … you get receipts."
"We're risking our butts and he's worried about receipts."
"That's right, he wants receipts."
"Hell, even the French weren't that tight. What's the deal, Hansen handling our accounting?"
"Could be. — To change the subject, when do we go? Think it's too late to go today?"
"If we left tonight, I would have to land in the dark. I'm not risking another night landing. Besides, you need to telex Wilson."
"I'm still uncomfortable with this Ali character," said Jack.
"Yeah, he's been a little jumpy since Roger left," said Dylan. "I think he'll be glad to see us go. I'm with you; we need to keep an eye on the sodding bastard 'till we leave.
Wednesday, 8 October 1980, In Flight to Agadez
The telex office was closed for some reason. — Actually, in third world countries, they don't need a reason. — Shut down tighter than a drum, no one around, and no one knew anything. We would have to wait until we arrived in Agadez later in the day.
In contrast, processing through Djanet airport was a snap. Amazing what a few well-placed twenty-dollar bills can accomplish. Even Harry cooperated. He filed a flight plan to Agadez, under Jack's close — more like tight — supervision without a hitch. The Twin Beech was fueled and ready to go by 0900. The only real glitch was Ali. He drove us to the airfield, but soon disappeared. We were on our own.
We flew south on a course of 191 degrees towards Agadez, 525 miles away. The Aïr Mountains began about midway, but they would pose no problem, their presence a handy reference point for dead-reckoning navigation during our three-and-a-half-hour flight.
"You're not as good looking as my last co-pilot."
Amadeo sitting in the co-pilots seat: "Yeah, but at least you'll find it a lot easier to keep your hands on the controls."
"Well, we did make it back alive."
"Could she fly this thing?"
"She took the controls a few times."
"You think she actually had a pilot's license?"
"Yeah, she knew how to navigate and was familiar enough with the instruments."
"Did you—"
"Look, that's all over. She's gone and I'm glad. I keep telling you, it ain't what it seemed." I sensed from his smile, more like a skeptical smirk, that he didn't buy my story. "Hey, give me a break and keep the whole matter under your hat. I got enough troubles with my wife."
"Why do you keep referring to Lisette as your wife, you used to just say Lisette?"
I mulled over his observation, he perceived something I hadn't been aware of: Have I distanced from Lisette? — Man, I need to think things over. —I don't know how to handle all this. "Ah … I don't know. I … I just don't know."
"All kidding aside, I'm not going to say or do nothing to make things worse. You know what you need to do?"
Here it comes, more advice for the lovelorn. Everybody wants to be Dear Abby these days.
"When this is over you get yourself down to Kenya ASAP."
"You're right … Yeah, thanks. Figured I could count on you." Now I need to be able to count on myself. Don't do anything to mess it up any more than it is. — Hell's bells — How do I get into stuff like this?
A disturbance from the passenger cabin: "Harry you keep your mouth shut and don't ask no more questions," shouted Jack. "If you need to know something, I'll tell you."
"Got a problem?" I asked.
"He wants to know who Wilson is."
I yelled back over the droning roar of the engines, "Wilson's our travel agent."
Amadeo sounded off, "Yeah, if you got a complaint, I'll give you his phone number."
Jack responded, "Hell no, I'm the complaint department as far as he's concerned." He nodded his head towards the rear door. "And the line starts right outside that hatch."
"Look mate, I told you I'll repay you for the beer—"
"What about the other guys you screwed."
"I'll do 'em right. No problem—"
"Yeah, no problem. Half of them were killed within a month. Frikkin Charlie staged a big attack on our base. Lotta good men died thirsty. – You thieving weasel."
Harry slumped in his seat, eyes to the floor. He seemed to realize the only way he was going to stay alive was to keep his mouth shut.
* * *
"Looks desolate down there," said Jack standing behind me in the cockpit door. We were over the black volcanic rock of the Aïr Mountains north of Agadez.
"You should've seen the desert between Djanet and Al Wigh … all sand dunes, like flying over the ocean."
"Saw a village back in a valley. Somebody lives down there," said Amadeo.
"Yeah, life hasn't changed for a thousand years."
"I don't know," I said. "Some days I wouldn't mind trading with them."
Amadeo slipped out of his seat. "You take it, I'm going back to heed the call."
Jack sat do
wn and perused the chart. "Long haul to N'Djamena. Think we can make it today?"
"Almost 600 miles, should take less than four hours. We can't afford to spend too much time in Agadez if we're going to make it before sunset."
"And if we don't get there before dark?"
"You guy's may need some clean underwear after we land."
He nodded a few times. "Guess we'll have to expedite things on the ground. Can't let that happen."
"Say, you got any idea what Wilson has planned? We've been out of the loop for the last few days. We still going to coordinate with the French?"
"Looks like it. They got this base in Bangui, we're supposed to work out of there."
"Doing what? I got the intercept. Are they going to raid the airfield, it's in Libya?"
"The French seem to be running hot and cold on this thing with Libya. I think they just want it to go away and ain't gonna get involved unless it threatens their interests."
"Yeah, that's kinda the way I've been reading it. Sure would like to get another shot at Marsden."
"And don't forget the Škorpion Brigade."
"I ain't forgot. They're on my list right behind Marsden. I intend to make them pay for killing Michaels."
"Yeah, we're going to miss that guy."
"Did my wi— Lisette say anything on the way to the Seychelles?"
"She kept to herself the whole way. Spent most of the time with the kid."
"I got a feeling it's over. Don't know what to do."
"Hey, I'm the last one you should be asking for advice. You know how I am when it comes to steady relationships, pretty much a train wreck all the way."
"Except maybe for Rochelle. You ever hear from her?" She had been an Air France flight attendant Jack hooked up with in Tehran and later in Kabul. She left after a shootout or two. Didn't seem to like too much excitement, sort of like Lisette now, maybe it's a French thing.
"Called her a couple of times, she was polite but cool. Not much hope."
"Sounds like you're describing Lisette."
"Well, ah … sorry."
"No problem, I understand. — Hey — Look ahead, Agadez coming up."
23 ~ Agadez
Wednesday, 8 October 1980, Agadez, Niger
Landing at Agadez airport was relatively uneventful. Bounced a couple of times, skidded, and swerved off the centerline, but avoided an embarrassing ground loop. Overall, a successful exhibition, everyone made it to the ground with clean laundry.