"Then I am satisfied I did my duty, sir."
The woman laughed and clapped her hands.
"Oh my God! They couldn't write this anymore. You, dear Rob, are straight out of an ancient book of chivalry."
I glared at her, feeling annoyed. She hadn't been there, so she didn't know what we and these people faced.
"I was at Harvard with Hol, where we became very close. We've been friends ever since, so I watched your exploits with more than a little personal attention," she explained.
I re-evaluated her age. The ex-president was in his early sixties, so I'd been generous in my assessment of her. She really was very well preserved, as my old grandmother would have said.
"So, whom do you represent?"
She smiled. "Oh, you're thinking that I'm part of the US government. I'm not. I only represent me and my company."
"And your company, it wouldn't deal in diamonds, would it?"
"No, captain, it deals in information."
I frowned.
"You see, everyone needs information. Some need it suppressed, others need access to it. Information is vital and almost without price, for some will pay anything for the right information. My company supplies most governments and their intelligence agencies with eighty percent of their information. That is how I know about your friend Simon Hamilton."
"They let you get away with this?" I asked.
"This is America, Robert, where one can get away with almost anything if you dress it up right. It's actually called a News and Media agency, but no one is fooled. Oh, we do supply news stories across the globe, but mainly we deal in information. The CIA has a problem with budgets and congressional scrutiny. I, on the other hand, have, 'media agents' in nearly every city in the world, as I like to keep an eye of everything that happens."
"So, what can I do?"
"You see, Robert, I know where the diamonds are going, and you might be able to effect their release, once more."
"Where are they?"
"Vietnam. The General is using them to obtain arms and ammunition to reequip his army. Being land-locked, he is looking for some way of getting access to a port. Ghana is too big and strong, so we suspect he has an eye on either Togo or the Gambia."
"Why Vietnam? Surely China would be the first port of call?"
"Vietnam needs an outlet for its growing arms industry. Oh, you and I know that they are supported by the Chinese, but this way the Vietnamese become a little less dependant upon the big boy. Besides, Vietnam needs the diamonds to afford its nuclear programme."
"Shit, what a mess," I said.
Holasu laughed shortly.
"It is good to see you again, Captain. Please excuse me as I leave you to talk to Maryanne. You are in good hands now, and I can say that with good authority."
Holasu G'ymbai shook me by the hand and nodded at Maryanne before leaving us alone.
“Maryanne? I asked.
"Sit down Robert, we need to talk."
I didn't talk much, but I did listen and ask the occasional question. The upstart General had followed up his acquisition of the diamonds with a quick communiqué with the Vietnamese. Actually, it was to a member of the Vietnamese elite called Cu`ong Pho’. Although not a member of government, he was an influential military figure with connections with the Chinese.
Now managing part of the Vietnamese arms industry, he was another ex-general, experienced in the cut-throat international business of the arms trade, and was rumoured to be able to supply anything from an antiaircraft missile battery to a single handgun of your choice.
"Pho' has agreed to supply the general with whatever he needs to re-equip that rag-tag army of his, including, my source claims, with five MiG fighters."
"The latest version?" I asked.
"I very much doubt it, but even if they're an antique spec, and barely able to fly, they will seriously damage my friend's attempts to regain power."
"What's the US Government's stance?"
"What do you think?"
"I imagine they're as keen to develop the contracts with whoever is in power and the region is stable. If they're like the British, they won't really give a shit which face is in charge as long as they come across with the goodies," I said.
"Cynical and depressing, but true none the less. As far as foreign policy is concerned, as long as their government isn't opposed to US interests in the region, then they'll accept the status quo."
"What are the US interests?"
"You scratch my back and we'll scratch yours," she said with a sad smile.
"Cynical and depressing."
"The General sent a trusted man as a courier to Vietnam, with two others to watch his back. The diamonds were placed in the vault at the Mgombi legation in Hanoi, and will remain there until the arms deal is concluded. Then they'll be formally handed over and we shall never see them again. My guess is the Vietnamese will have them cut and sold on the international market, giving them valuable western currency to boost their economy. Once they've been sent off for cutting, our chance to relieve them of their assets will be lost."
She even told me which flight the couriers took to Vietnam and where they stayed. I understood the Africans would remain in Vietnam until the deal was concluded and then accompany the shipment back to their own country.
"I assume the shipment will be sent by sea?"
"You assume correct, except for the fighter planes, which will be flown in at some future date. There is a Liberian registered vessel called The Eastern Star due to arrive in five days time. The entire cargo space of the vessel has been booked for the return journey to Mgombi, which is due to start after one week in port. So, as we speak, the necessary hardware is being assembled ready for packing in preparation for their journey."
"Where?"
"There is an old army base just outside the city of Hanoi. The Vietnamese don't trust the Africans, so they aren't parting with the goodies until they have the diamonds."
"Even when they know they are secure inside a vault in Vietnam?"
"Not only that, but Pho' has had access to them and had them checked by an expert. The Africans still have control, so nothing will be handed over until that control has been relinquished and the diamonds are firmly in their greedy paws. Our best chance is the vault before they hand them over."
I laughed. "I'm a…, sorry, I was a soldier, not a bank robber. Surely you have contacts with far more suitably qualified personnel?"
"Rob, the legation isn't a bank. The vault is an antique French safe that will take you precisely ten seconds to open. No, the problem will be getting in and out again without getting caught."
"Excuse me for being dim, but I'm afraid that safe cracking wasn't on the syllabus at Sandhurst when I passed through. Things may have changed a little since I was there, but I doubt it."
"Oh Robert, when will you learn to trust me? The Mgombi legation is in a building that up until the end of the Vietnam War housed the American Press Association. The safe was in place since the days when it was actually the private residence of a prominent French businessman called Jean-Claude Forgert."
"And the relevance is?"
She held up an elderly looking key.
"Don't tell me you just happen to have the key to the safe?"
She simply smiled, passing it over the desk. I picked it up, looking at it. It was ornate and definitely of a previous century, and not the necessarily the twentieth.
Shaking my head, I looked into her grey eyes.
“Surely the diamonds won’t be enough for everything they’re planning to purchase?” I asked.
“No, but with the extra ones they’ve managed to extract since Hamilton’s death, they have quadrupled the amount.”
"I take it you have a plan?"
She nodded.
"Why me?"
"Because of all the people in the world, you are the only person I actually trust to do the honourable thing."
"I might surprise you."
"No, captain, you might do many things, but you'd die rather than let the side down."