by Mark Stanley
The smile returned to his face but there was a long pause before he commenced.
"So we agree that a friend should be rewarded do we not Lord Stanley? It is only to be determined how much this…reward should be and I have a figure of ten million of your British Pounds in mind as I think that’s a nice round figure and one which would show the right amount of appreciation for the information. Of course this figure would be a gift and the friend would wish to reciprocate by offering to facilitate the establishment and the development of a UN programme to help the wonderful children of this soon to be educated nation.”
“The figure that you have in mind is…extremely high and the information would need to comprehensive and of importance to allow such a sum to be paid but that cannot be determined until such time that the friend elucidates.”
He looked at me as he made his decision.
“The information has been discovered after a small group of strangers were found in our territory. They were… encouraged to share, with their new friends’ information that they had. It appears that they were travelling overland to Mali, to meet another friend, a friend who is coming from another country which borders Niger. Do you understand Lord Stanley?"
"I think so Mister Halska, please continue."
"These new friends didn't know too much about the man they were due to meet nor the nature of the work that they were expected to carry out, but these men are dangerous Lord Stanley, very dangerous. They have limited qualifications and specialise in one area. Do you still follow me Lord Stanley?"
I nodded.
"Sadly our new friends died, but my men are sure that with our own level of expertise that there was nothing else for the friends to share."
"It seems unfortunate that these new friends departed so early, but what was the information that you wish to share, as a friend?"
“Does my information lead you to commit to the reward Lord Stanley?”
“I think that it’s someway off being ten million pounds of information, I would need specifics?”
He stared the stare of a rat, looking at another predator and for the first time there was hesitation.
"During our discussions, it became clear that these friends were employed by and answered to some of the other new arrivals in Niger? That they were travelling through Niger and onto Mali, under the protection of the new arrival but had strayed into our territory, through circumstances beyond their control, did not and does not please me Lord Stanley. For people to move through this part of Niger…freely, well it requires permission from friends. If they had made it to Mali they were due to meet up with someone whom they had never previously met."
"And how were they to contact this man?"
"He would contact them on their arrival in Bamako. At that stage they would be informed of the target for their particular…skills and the exact place for them to commence their work.”
“And how and where would they contact their friend and how would they recognise him?”
“They were to have met in the Café de Mauritius but when they arrived he would contact them and they would know him as he has only eight fingers."
The last hour with Halska had been as difficult as the previous seven, lurid comments about Victoria and a sense that I was being...tested. I had reluctantly agreed to a gift for his information and had an undertaking that the expansion of the UN education programme would be allowed…uninhibited. We had eventually retired but shortly after doing so, Tom had come to my room to inform me that Halska had departed along with his men and we were left, alone. The night had been long and no one slept as we had waited until Tom was ready for us to begin the trip. Due to our location and the inherent dangers he didn’t want to drive very far in the dark as that would have been silly given that the dark was the reason we had stayed in the first place and so by daybreak we had only recently passed the area where the previous day’s meeting had taken place as we had been made to double back on three occasions as we took the wrong path, an easy thing to do without guides.
The trip back to Niamey was difficult and hair-raising. Despite assurances from Halska that he could and would provide protection up to the outskirts of Abalak his men had never appeared. Tom stopped the convoy and changed the order, so that the position of the car I was travelling in changed too. By way of an explanation he turned to me.
"I don't trust that guy or his men. If they've anything planned, then the car that they'll be looking to take will have the Peacekeepers in."
I'm not sure that I was entirely happy with putting someone else in the firing line but I didn't bother arguing, for it wasn't an argument that I'd win. Anyway it was difficult for me to believe that Halska was involved; after all if I died or were captured, he wouldn't derive any financial benefit, or would he? I mulled over this discombobulation, whilst we drove on.
“Of course he could just be bluffing, getting you to agree to some form of aid package and then giving you and us up to whomever in the hope of expanding his power base and influence in the country.”
It was a good spot by Tom and one that had crossed my mind. I hadn’t told anyone in my party about Halska’s reward, and had dressed up the information that I had imparted to Tom as being given in return for an aid package. When one does something that one shouldn’t do the fewer people that know the better.
We drove on but very wary at any spot where we had to slow down, we were also aware that there were young children, not even teenagers, who were speaking on mobile phone as we approached and as we drove past, pointing at us.
"Telling their masters about our progress, we're going to get a welcoming committee at some stage." Tom made us pull over, again. This time he went onto one of the three satellite phones that we carried and I questioned him when he returned.
"Who were you speaking with?"
"Our Niger liaison officer, requesting that the Armee d'Air, provide support to get us to the airport, we're going home."
"I thought you might say that. Tom I really need to get to Mali, they've requested my attendance and I really need to go."
For the first time in over a year, Tom Wilson nearly lost his cool.
"And why do you think you've been invited Lord Mark, why? Could it be that our hosts are being coerced into inviting you by Eight, or perhaps some of his masters? Wake up Lord Mark, you're a great guy, we know you're as brave as any man but you really don't need to prove it, it's a real privilege to work with you and your family, but this trip is ending today."
I sat back in the car and fell silent. I wanted to go but, I looked around at the CPO’s and their faces told the same story, Mali was off the agenda.
We travelled about another twenty miles, with increasing trepidation. More children, more phones and now guns were appearing, slung carelessly over shoulders and all being carried in one direction, our direction. As we went round a left hand bend, there it was the roadblock that Tom had rightly anticipated. The cars stopped and Tom didn't hesitate.
"Reverse!"
I was pushed down so that my head was below that of the seats, as the car sped backwards, out of line and Craig, gunned the big Japanese engine as he span the car around. We were in danger of it turning over, which is a problem with big 4x4's, the centre of gravity is very high. But I wasn't really thinking too much because as we completed the action, the gunfire started.
"Keep down!"
I couldn't see anything but I could hear Tom.
"Mow the fuckers down!"
There were three sharp bangs as if we had hit another car but our progress was unimpeded.
"Turn left,... there turn right,... up there,... get to the high ground."
The instructions were concise and clear. All I could feel was the car fighting to stay on a rough road, path, track, something but I had no idea what.
"There...pull over!"
I tried to raise my head.
"KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEAD DOWN LORD MARK!"
The car stopped and the two front doors opened, almost s
imultaneously, Tom and Craig exited, running around and opening the boot where we had a small arsenal of weapons. I had seen them and had been, in my own mind, dismissive as to the need for them. The other cars all arrived and I chanced a look as John and Tony opened their respective doors. The cars had been put into a corral, with the car I was in in the centre. Doors were being opened and arms retrieved from wherever they'd been stored and...
"INCOMING, RPG GET DOWN!
John hit me with a tackle that would have taken down any rugby player, it was ferocious and I hit the ground hard only to have Tony all two hundred pounds of him, belly-flop onto me ensuring that I wouldn't be able to move as every bit of breath had been expunged with the two movements. I had never heard an explosion like it. The heat was, even when I was being shielded, immense. All I could see from turning my head and looking underneath the car I was being sheltered by was another car landing, roof first. And then the machine guns started there rattling. Nothing can prepare you for that first RPG explosion, but the sound of machine guns I had heard before and all of the while Tom Wilson controlled the situation as he shouted orders, constantly.
"CARL, PHIL, GO LEFT, KEEP THOSE FUCKERS OFF THE SLOPE!
"ADE, CHRIS, GO RIGHT, SAME BRIEF!
"CAPTAIN GET YOUR MEN SPREAD OUT!"
I could hear the words but I couldn't see the actions. Tom was without doubt in charge of the CPO’s, but the Captain of the Peacekeepers, appeared from the one sided conversation that I could hear, reluctant to return fire.
"WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE SURE WE'RE UNDER ATTACK? THERE'S A FUCKING BURNING LAND CRUISER OVER THERE YOU FUCKING WANKER, NOW GET YOUR ARSE INTO FUCKING GEAR AND DEPLOY!"
There was quiet from Tom as the Captain replied and then...
"AND DON'T YOU FUCKING THINK THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING UN WANKER THAT YOU'VE SEEN MORE ACTION THEN US, NOW STOP FUCKING ARGUING AND DO IT!"
But then everything changed.
"Oh shit...MAN DOWN!
"...YOUR C.O. IS DOWN, I'LL BE DIRECTING YOU. YOU FOUR, GO RIGHT AND GIVE COVER, KEEP THEIR HEADS DOWN AND STOP THEM FIRING ANYMORE FUCKING RPG'S!"
Tom's booming voice carried across the small plateau that we occupied. The gunfire was relentless but at least it was now being returned.
"WHERE'S THIS FUCKING BACK-UP!"...I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT FUCKING PROTOCOL'S, WE'RE UNDER SUSTAINED ATTACK!...WELL GET HIM ON THE PHONE AND I'LL FUCKING TELL HIM!"
There was silence only broken by gunfire.
"GET HIM THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT CAR."
I was manhandled to my feet and then unceremoniously dragged to a new position. From here I couldn't hear Tom, only the clatter of the guns.
It went on for forty minutes then the clattering of guns was replaced by the whirling of rotor blades as two Niger army helicopters came swooping in low over the trees to land on the plateau. The occupants poured out and deployed before the third and fourth helicopters landed. It probably represented the whole of the Niger armed forces but I would be eternally grateful. Again I was manhandled and taken to the closest helicopter and shoved through the door as the rest of the party made an orderly retreat, throughout it all it appeared that the BBC had continued to film. The injured UN Captain was hoisted onto one of his men's back and the rest of the wounded thankfully didn’t include any of the CPO’s taken to another of the choppers and then we were off, abandoning our vehicles for the local terrorists to use against some other poor sod.
The flight to the airport was undertaken in almost silence as the rotors whirred and the door remained open as a Niger gunner aimed a large machine gun down and across looking for trouble, precluded any chit-chat. At the airport we landed directly adjacent to the plane and then I was again manhandled out and pushed towards the staircase.
"Stop!"
I turned and shock myself loose of Tony's arms and walked over to the other helicopter and spoke with the injured Captain who was receiving treatment along with a number of his men. He had taken two bullets to the legs and was in some pain, his men had suffered similar wounds but none were life-threatening and all would recover still I apologised for the trouble I'd caused him and his men and thanked them all for their assistance, before I did the same with the Niger men and their own Commanding Officer.
"Lord Mark, we have to leave Sir, please."
"Is everyone on board?"
"Yes Lord Mark, just you and me sir."
Tom, as ever by my shoulder as I shook hands with the C.O and walked over to the plane climbing the staircase.
"Let's go home Tom."
As I always do, I went onto the flight deck to thank John Carmichael and his guys for the safe trip and to apologise for the trouble they'd been put to, with the elongated trip and no little deprivation at least when compared to their normal lives.
"Mark, you should never worry about us, we do the job because we love it and we love working for you and the family. We just get concerned that you're not going to be around for the annual trip to Stamford Bridge!"
"Don't worry about that, it's already in the diary; I'll see you all very soon. Enjoy the rest, you've earned it."
We walked the very short distance, in the early evening gloom which had been accelerated by the falling rain, to the helicopter and in moments we were on the final leg home. Of course I knew I was going to face a shitstorm. The guys from the BBC had a scoop, me under fire in Niger and they had already uploaded it so there would be no escape, hopefully Victoria would be oblivious until I had had time to tell her, in my own way.
As we landed in the garden, I could see the children dancing around and waving in the sitting room as I ran through the rain to the house where the door was already open. The look on Victoria's face told me that the shitstorm was about to be unleashed.
We kissed and hugged and then, quietly but with real feeling, whispered in my ear.
"You're dead meat Stanley I'm going to cut your balls off."
And then louder.
"We've all missed you so much, haven't we guys!"
Of course there was no point in hiding it. Victoria had found out via good old Radio Four and so I sat and told the children, downplaying the hostility that we had encountered and inviting them to watch the 10 o'clock news with us. It was a Friday and the start of the Easter holidays so there was no school and no work so we could all enjoy the weekend, but then again not everyone was married to Victoria and I suspected that I would be in for a degree of hardship. We ate and chatted and I told them some of the funny things that had happened during the trip and I had to apologise because the presents that I'd accumulated for all had been left in Niamey in the hotel although I'd been assured they would be forwarded onto me I didn't hold out much hope if the postal system was on a par with the water system. And then it was time for the news and so we all sat down to hopefully a balanced view of my tribulations, downplaying the danger and focusing on the positives. I could rely on the BBC, couldn't I, this bastion of Britain and the stiff upper lip? As the headlines appeared I knew that was a forlorn and outdated idea.
"Dramatic footage of an attack to kill or kidnap the UN President Lord Mark Stanley in war-torn Niger!" Followed by the explosion of the RPG and the rattle of machine guns, the children's mouths opened and Victoria's lips pursed and both eyebrows rose. I think it might have been safer going to Mali.
"So Rambo strikes again! When will you ever listen? It's not just yourself that you put into danger it's the guys around you. It's those poor UN soldiers who were shot and no thanks to you that they'll make a full recovery. It's us, your family at home, worrying day and night about you. It's little Flora..." I stood and put my arms around her as she shook with the emotion of the last few hours, tears tumbling down, but she was angry, Christ was she angry. I never saw it coming but the slap rattled my fillings, the knee caught me full and square in the balls and then the punch, fucking hell how does she instinctively know where it hurts most? I detached myself to go to the bathroom to staunch the bleeding from my nose. I
t wasn't broken but it was bleeding, the very expensive engagement ring that I had bestowed on her, had sliced the top of my nose, clean and by the looks of it deep. She joined me in the bathroom and looked at her work as she turned and went back into the bedroom. I held a flannel across the bridge, squeezing the sides of the cut together.
"Doctor Meyer will be here in twenty minutes."
"Thank you."
"Don't bother thanking me and don't come into the bedroom, they're new carpets and I don't want your blood staining them."
I stayed in the bathroom and awaited the good Doctor. He was as good as his word and came into the bathroom. He looked at me with a wry smile.
"Tripped?"
"How did you guess?"
"Terrible things when you fall onto a diamond ring."
"How do you know?"
"Done it myself, long while ago mind, a lot more careful nowadays, I suggest you do likewise."
He put some butterfly stitches onto it and some glue to hold it together.
"You might have a scar, take it as a warning, some women have foul tempers."
He left and I came out of the bathroom, feeling very sorry for myself. Victoria had used her own bathroom and had got into bed. I got undressed and slid in the side of her, ensuring that I didn't touch or disturb her anymore than I had to. I turned over and switched out the light before she spoke.
"We'll resume this in the morning."
Of course it was my fault, well it would be wouldn't it after all I'm a man and it’s always the man's fault, was my consoling thought to myself before I fell asleep.
“Billy! Wake up you useless tosser!"
I had been sleeping in strange beds, in strange hotels in some very strange cities for three weeks and I had no idea what was going on. Then the lights came on and reality returned along with a slap to my chest.
"What!"
"I've started labour Billy and it's entirely your fault you shit!"
"What do you want to do?"