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Decisive Measures

Page 17

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  ‘Well, I haven’t got any. Maybe they’re still in the cockpit. You’re welcome to go and search for them. Or talk to Rudi and those guys about it. They just handed me the case; I didn’t ask how many were in it.’ I paused as if the thought had just struck me. ‘Maybe that’s why they were so happy to risk it in the bush.’

  He stared at me. ‘Search him.’

  His heavies manhandled me to my feet. I yelled in pain as one took my right arm.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Layla said. ‘He has a serious wound and a fractured shoulder, and he’s lost a lot of blood. Leave him alone and get him an ambulance.’

  Pleydell swivelled to look at her. ‘Who are you, pray?’

  ‘I’m a paramedic with Medicaid International.’

  He sneered at her. ‘When I want advice from representatives of communist front organisations, I’ll ask for it. This man is suspected of the theft of a number of diamonds and whether you like it or not, he will be searched.’

  ‘It’s OK, Layla,’ I said. ‘I’ll be all right.’

  The heavies looked to Pleydell for guidance. ‘Get on with it,’ he said. ‘Search him.’ Half-apologetically, one of them began to pat me down. ‘Not like that,’ Pleydell said. ‘We’re looking for diamonds not a pistol, for Christ’s sake. Strip-search him.’

  They stripped off my boots and trousers and searched every seam. Then they undid my shirt and body searched me. They even began pulling back the bandages and peering at my wound, but I let out such a yell that they stopped at once. The sweat on my ashen face should have been enough to convince them that I was not faking.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Layla said.

  Pleydell gave me a long stare. Then a faint smile crossed his face. ‘His mouth,’ he said. ‘Search his mouth.’

  His men stared uncertainly from him to Layla.

  Cursing, he pushed them aside. I obliged him by opening my mouth. He peered into it, and felt between my teeth and my cheeks with his finger. ‘Lift your tongue,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Lift your tongue.’

  I made a show of hesitation, then did as he asked.

  He felt around under my tongue then stepped back, wiping his fingers on his trousers.

  Pleydell still directed his baleful stare at me. ‘Don’t think for a moment this is over. I’ll have more to say to you when we get back to England. The charter’s waiting. I want you aboard inside ten minutes.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Colonel,’ I said. I looked from him to Layla. Beyond her Njama and the other villagers sat silent and watchful. Layla stared back at me, holding my gaze with a look that told me all I needed to know.

  I turned back to face Pleydell. ‘I like it here. So as far as I’m concerned, you can stick your orders and your diamonds. I’m going nowhere, I’m staying here.’

  Pleydell’s mouth worked. ‘To hell with you then. You’re in breach of contract, and your wages are forfeit. See how long you last without money in this stinkhole of a country.’

  He turned and marched away, followed by his men. As our ragged band made slow, shambling progress around the perimeter towards the airport buildings, I saw the Tristar’s doors close. The engines fired and it taxied to the end of the runway. A couple of minutes later it took off towards the setting sun.

  As the rumble of its engines faded, I turned to Layla. ‘Could you change my dressing? Those diamonds are bloody uncomfortable.’ She stared at me for a moment and then began to laugh. She carefully peeled back the dressing and a few moments later she dropped six perfect, if bloodstained, diamonds into my hand.

  I turned them over, watching the light shimmering through them, then passed them to Njama. ‘These belong to you,’ I said. ‘You’ll need them. Once the rebels are beaten, we’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do.

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2000 by Hodder and Stoughton

  This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by

  Canelo Digital Publishing Limited

  Third Floor, 20 Mortimer Street

  London W1T 3JW

  United Kingdom

  Copyright © John Nichol, 2000

  The moral right of John Nichol to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781788637534

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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