Zara's Game

by Jo Black

  ‘It’s times like this you know who your friends are. We’ll figure it out. Together. Like we always do.’

  ‘Death and Glory Alex,’ Mike the Saffa said.

  ‘Death and Glory!’ they all cheered.

  ‘Fuck off...Breakfast and shower. Bunch of fucking toolsets,’ Nish said to a quiet chuckle in response.

  ‘Bit of housekeeping first. New Quartermaster. Mister Patel, I believe you at least studied some level of mathematics during your educational years in Delhi.’

  ‘What? Because I’m Indian I must be smart? That’s racist. Just because a lot of accountants and doctors come from India doesn’t mean we are all smart.’

  ‘Well you said it my friend...’ Hamid Khazi replied.

  ‘You’re a good negotiator Mister Patel, and we need to try and keep our supplier costs down on account of how broke-ass our company is, thanks to Merriweather.’

  ‘Oh so now it’s because I’m a good negotiator? You assume we all sell carpets at the bazaar and can make good deals. I never bought or sold anything in my life. Mrs Patel does all the family finances. She is a chartered fiduciary to a major conglomerate.’

  ‘Does she want to be Quartermaster?’ Nish asked.

  ‘I believe not. She’s filed for divorce. She’s left me for a doctor.’

  ‘Bad luck,’ Hamid said.

  ‘Volunteer then?’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Everyone looked at Sooty. He shrugged. ‘I did a bit of trading on the Camden market between jobs.’

  ‘What sort of trading?’ Mister Patel asked.

  ‘Recreational pharmaceuticals mostly. It’s a didgy business, can’t be that much different than this.’

  ‘You inspire me with confidence,’ Mister Patel said with clear sarcasm. He turned to Alex. ‘I would like to be paid cash directly.’

  ‘Sooty will do the books. I will sign them off. You’ll all get paid.’

  ‘I thought we were broke?’ Gary asked.

  ‘We are.’

  ‘Nobody said anything about being paid. Fuck that, I made a right show of being here for the loyalty. Don’t pollute my big gesture with offers of payment,’ Gary said with a sulk.

  ‘You can always give it to charity,’ Nish suggested.

  ‘I wish my ex-wife would register as a charity, at least then I’d get a tax deduction,’ Mister Patel said.

  ‘When did you last pay tax?’ Hamid Khazi asked.

  ‘Let’s move on. Cupcake, you are still the only one of us who can cater, so you’ll take care of provisions. Two-Stroke on armoury and mech. Mike Saffa on tech and comms. Hamid you’re intelligence-’

  ‘That is a contradiction...’ Mister Patel said.

  ‘From the man whose wife pays for everything...’ Hamid replied.

  ‘Glitterballs, transport and logistics. Everyone else just find something useful to do from Nish. Order of business. Glitterballs, take whoever is spare, and go and recover our Landies before Merriweather has chance to find and strip the E.C.U transponders. Cupcake hitch a ride, get whatever Nish can spare from the kitty and get us three days’ provisions. Try and keep the cost down. Hamid, go with and see what you can get off the locals as to where we stand. Everyone else make a bare-bones list of what we need to get operational again and give it to Nish. Sooty get it billed up, best price possible and we’ll do what we can as we can. Samir, we can’t leave Mila here being so short manned or she’ll be on some Arab’s sex auction before the day is out. Go into town with them and book into a hotel discretely. Keep her quiet for the next couple of days.’

  ‘That will be easier said than done. I’m almost out of sedatives.’

  ‘Improvise. Any other business?’

  ‘Yeah. One thing. You gonna let Merriweather get away with this shit? He took our share too,’ Gary complained.

  ‘Well, we can’t do a lot about that right now. As soon as we’ve got out of crisis mode then Nish and I will do what we can to get you made whole again. That’s the best I can offer.’

  ‘That’s not the point. The boys and me, we stayed for you to get Zara back. We were putting our shares into the campaign fund. There was no vote Alex, he broke The Company rules doing what he did. You are well within your rights at The Guild to do something about it.’

  The rest murmured their agreement. ‘I appreciate the support, but we don’t have the time or treasure to expend resources. Hamid, ask around town; see if you can find out how many are planning to stick with Merriweather after the disbursements. If we’re up against a full century of our former comrades in arms then collection will be more trouble than it’s worth. Let’s be pragmatic and fight the battles we can win. Merriweather can sit on the pot until we’re in better shape to show our displeasure.’

  ‘I want it on the record, we’re owed. If we don’t get paid we want some retribution delivered,’ Gary said.

  ‘You’ll get it. No bad deed goes unpunished. You know that by now. Time is our enemy, everything is moving around us. Let’s get ahead of it again. Get a taxi booked and get to work. Ninja, you’re with Nish and me. We’ve got to figure out a way to both avoid paying The Colonel his rent and avoid ending up on the hook to do one of his mentalist plans. We’ll convene at twenty-three hundred for brief on progress.’ Alex and Nish departed the tent and headed over to the Quartermaster’s tent. ‘How long do you think we have?’

  ‘If they come, they’ll come tonight before we have chance to retool,’ Nish replied.

  ‘Have we got anything left we can use?’ Alex asked Sooty.

  Sooty shrugged. ‘If you want to start the A-Team music we can break out the field manual. Will do fuck-all good if they drop a bomb on us though.’

  ‘Have we even got a field manual?’ Alex asked.

  Sooty walked over to a crate. ‘British, American, Russian, French, Italian.’

  ‘What does the French one say for repelling a nocturnal camp ambush?’ Nish asked.

  Sooty opened the book and flicked through its pages. ‘My French is a bit rusty, but it appears to say, surrender immediately and run away.’

  ‘What about the Italian?’

  ‘Surrender before they arrive.’

  ‘Russian?’

  ‘Kill their parents, brothers, neighbours and dogs.’

  ‘We’ll go with the British then,’ Alex and Nish said in unison. ‘Give the French and Italian books to the boys to use for shit-paper.’

  ‘Listen Sooty, Gadaffi is sending a chopper to pick us up tonight, but I want the boys to hang around and pick us up. I’m not game for a return lift off the Colonel in case Merriweather has cut a deal already and we find ourselves being ejected at altitude in the darkness over the desert on the way back.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Do what you can with the camp defences. Go medieval on the job if you have to. Punji sticks smeared in your shit. I don’t care. Just help us survive the night.’

  ‘Is it that bad?’ Sooty asked looking at Nish and Alex. ‘He’s not got the minerals, surely?’

  ‘I thought that before he upped and fucked off with all our kit and money before a vote. It seems Mister Merriweather is full of surprises,’ Nish said.

  ‘Me and the boys had a whip round, it’s not much, but the arms fair is tomorrow. Should be enough to at least get a few carbines and things that go bang. Maybe not a nuclear submarine, but better than nothing.’

  ‘I appreciate it Sooty.’

  ‘Fuck it eh? In for the lols. Fucking Libya. No money. Stuck in the desert. It’s like being back in The Regiment, but without the fucking paperwork and shit tea bags.’

  25

  The convoy arrived at Colonel Gadaffi’s palatial compound in the early evening. The ornate Bedouin inspired tent, surrounded by camels and a host of attractive female military uniformed guards adding spectacle to the theatre of the exotic gardens. Nish and Alex emerged from their car and were gestured towards the tent where they were both duly searched for weapons by a pair of well-endowed, but somewhat fierce looking, female
guards who seemed to take an exceptionally thorough approach to checking for concealed weapons around the front of the visitors’ undergarments.

  ‘If you wank it any harder it will go off in your hand,’ Nish said to a returned scowl. Satisfied Nish had nothing more threatening than a growing erection, they were escorted into the large tent where The Colonel sat court amidst, what can only be described as, a Disney Arabian Nights’ theatrical set of looted gold, precious gems, and ancient artefacts — that may or may not have been original. The pair were jostled to the plush satin and fur lined oversized seats in front of Gadaffis’ day bed where he sat flanked by half a dozen of his most attractive armed harem, complete with ceremonially polished AK47’s, and a pair of diamond collared leopards lazily eying-up Nish and Alex as a potential suppertime treat.

  ‘Hello Muammar, you look well,’ Alex said with all the informality befitting meeting “The Most Supreme Excellent Dear Leader and Father of the Libyan People”, or whatever title he had currently bestowed himself that week. Gadaffi just waved a nonchalant hand gesture and grunted briefly, staring at them. Fanning himself with the exotic plume of whatever dead animal his fly swatter had been sourced from. He started mumbling.

  ‘Thank you for your visit, and your punctuality. I wish to express regret at the cowardly and deceitful actions of your men in their betrayal, I can only imagine the diseased whores and beggars wombs these ungrateful vermin have sprung from did not endow them with any useful nutrients to provide higher-level brain function in life.’

  ‘That’s...very insightful. Muammar. Thank you for that,’ Alex said with a polite nod.

  ‘I understand that such pigs’ testicles are a product of the degenerative society they have sprung from, and all great leaders are cursed to be served by fools, beggars, and those with the breath tainted by the smell of the dog’s penis they so readily suck without question.’

  ‘I agree,’ Nish said.

  ‘I am assured by Allah that nothing good will come of it, and Allah is willing to punish such treachery of his beloved friends. You have but to ask and he will personally see all their genitals are removed and fed to them so they may be reminded that men who do not serve loyally have no right to be called men.’

  ‘That’s a very kind offer from Allah Muammar, but I am sure you understand that for those loyal men who remain, who they stole from, justice must be delivered personally so they can avenge themselves against those that have sought to steal from them,’ Alex said.

  ‘Allah the almighty understands, all good fathers teach their children to kill for themselves, and he will afford you this wish that your men may personally undertake the will of Allah to punish thieves, liars, deviants and the international Jewry.’

  ‘It is appreciated,’ Alex said.

  ‘To the matter of this visit, I trust you will recover your strength on an expedited basis as I have a most urgent need of your assistance in a matter that concerns me gravely, and which I wish you to fulfil in return for my generous hospitality.’

  ‘We are at your service.’

  ‘I have on many occasions shared with you the knowledge blessed to me by Allah the Almighty of the band of thieves, liars, and deviants that call themselves The Permanent Members of the United Nations Security Council, and my knowledge of the Security Council’s desire to treat all other nations as children. It has come to my attention that their fiendish and wicked plan knows no decency and now they seek to remove our good friend Saddam from his rightful position of power as the leader of the free and sovereign nation of Iraq, using nothing more than false pretences and falsified evidence at their kangaroo court of the United Nations. To convince their controlled puppet media as to the justification for an illegal and immoral war. I am convinced of my revelations as to the level and depth of their more than fifty years’ plan, conceived by the international Jewry, the British Royal Family, and the so-called New World Order. It is merely the long-awaited strike to dispossess the Arab and African peoples from their rightful lands, and seek to possess the wealth that Allah has granted them. It is not surprising to me or others that the Zionists are the architects in this attempted seizure and theft of Arabs and Africans rightful homes, but merely the realisation of their longstanding ambition along with their fake Arab puppets in the House of Saud, to take that which belongs to us by force. Is it not so that they control us all, merely with their threat of nuclear Armageddon, whilst preventing anyone but they from possessing such things, simply so they can bully, coerce, and extort us into funding their lavish and deviant excesses?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alex said.

  ‘It seems that way,’ Nish said and nodded.

  ‘They have called me, his Excellency, a state sponsor of terrorism! A libel which their puppet Jewry media has repeated endlessly to distract from the truth that they are the real terrorists! Both to their own oppressed peoples, and to the free Arabs and African Nations. Those who have opposed them are crushed; those that call out the lies are slandered as fools. And now we see here, you, my dear friends, are not safe from the devious plot of this fiendish Jew-led cabal! I ask you not to act in my interest, or the interest of Saddam, even the interest of Arabs and free African Nations, but in the interests of all mankind! For the forty-eight members of the United Nations who are bullied and coerced into feeding the stuffed pig of imperialist capitalist greed under fear of nuclear extermination! It is but a pinprick, but the smallest grains of sand when come together make an impassable desert. It is written. You must go to Saddam, you must stop this wickedness, praise be to Allah that in our hour of need he has brought forth the righteous and willing to defend against such wanton thievery!’

  ‘Allahu Akbar!’ Nish yelled — for no real reason, setting the whole room off in a chain of Allahu Akbar-ing.

  ‘Allahu Akbar. You are clearly more wise than all of us to see these people for who they are dear Muammar, we praise your wisdom and intellect to see through these schemes and show us the truth. History will record your greatness,’ Alex said.

  ‘Alas it is true, but I must be martyred first! For revealing their awful schemes the Jewry and the international cabal of the British Royal Family, banksters and deviants will move against me next! Mark my words as Allah is my witness! They will find cause in their sham court of the United Nations to act against me and dispossess me of my rightful place as beloved father of the Libyan and free African peoples. Watch, as with Saddam, how they will manufacture lie after lie telling tales of my cruelty, my deviancy, and my madness to discredit me before they strike at us and violate all international and moral law in the name of their false democracy! Here now, you are both my witness that these thieves and Jews will murder me to steal the Libyan wealth! You are witness! And you must avenge this crime, here...’ Gadaffi picked up an ornate folder and started scribbling on the pad of paper in Arabic. ‘I grant to you one-hundred million dollars each to avenge my death and kill those that have killed me, one-hundred million dollars you can take to any bank and they pay it! In addition you can take my finest camels, my horses, the women of my harem! All will be granted to you with Allah’s blessing to carry out this wish on my behalf! For they must know they may kill me, but I will strike them down from beyond the grave! Then they will understand they cannot kill my spirit and my legacy!’ Gadaffi scribbled his signature on the paper and threw it towards them. One of his aides picked it up, stamped it and handed it to Alex.

  ‘We will honour your wishes Muammar, but praise be to Allah this terrible premonition of you death does not come to pass,’ Alex said.

  ‘It will happen, we cannot stop them! They have dominion over our planet in the name of democracy, but they will bring tyranny. You are my witness! You. You! Now go. May you leave my house with Allah’s blessings and deep affection that you may prevail against all enemies and carry out this mission of upmost importance.’ The aide gestured the pair to leave. Gadaffi returned his attention to reading his book. The pair walked out of the tent.

  ‘Did he just give us a
hundred million dollars each?’ Nish asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Alex shrugged, looking confused.

  The aide coughed. ‘The banks open at ten a.m. where they will be glad to honour your note.’

  ‘Which bank?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Any bank,’ the aide replied. ‘His Excellency extends his full hospitality to you as his most loyal servants and brothers, he asks that I ensure whatever needs you have will be met during your stay in Libya.’

  ‘There is something. The arms bazaar tomorrow, we need invitations.’

  ‘Of course, it will be arranged. Anything else?’

  Alex looked at Nish. ‘Security at our camp. What with all these agents of Jewry, we’re a bit concerned.’

  ‘It will be taken care of by His Excellency’s personal guard.’

  ‘That’s fine for now. We’ll let you know if we think of anything else,’ Alex said.

  ‘Very good. I will summon your car and escort guard for your camp.’

  Alex walked along to the end of the red carpet to wait for the car with Nish. ‘Did any of that make sense?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Something something the Jews,’ Nish replied.

  ‘That’s what I got. Usual then...’

  ‘Yep. What a fruitcake.’

  ‘Hundred million though.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Kill the President of the U.S.A and the Royal Family I assumed.’

  ‘No Jews then?’

  ‘I think they’re all Jews to Muammar.’

  ‘He does seem a bit of an anti-Semite.’

  ‘Nah. I didn’t get that impression at all...’

  The cars arrived a few minutes later escorted by two military trucks complete with a full company of the Colonel’s female guards, all clad in immaculate sand coloured uniforms with red berets. ‘Jesus. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, that’s quite a regiment of beauties he’s got there...’

  26

  Having returned to the desert encampment, the Colonel’s guards took up sentry posts outside the tents and prowled around the perimeter like the world’s deadliest catwalk models. Further out at the edge of the camp, Alex inspected Sooty and the boys’ rudimentary attempts at reinforcing the camp’s defences with whatever trash and rubbish that they had to hand. Not entirely technically impressive, they seemed, in Alex’s opinion, to have merely made a questionable environmental degradation to the local habitat.