Juggernaut

And in broad daylight too, I thought, remembering the bombing raid on Kodowa.

'If they are rebels they'll be too much for Sadiq to handle, so he's done a little disappearing act with his men. We'll signal to let him know if the new arrivals are friendly or otherwise. If they want to know where Sadiq is, he's gone off with his men. It's important that everybody tells the same story. He left us as soon as we got here. Right?'

Kemp asked, 'Why this flimflam? He's supposed to stay and guard the rig, isn't he?'

Not for the first time I despaired of Kemp's singlemindedness. I said, 'I'll explain later,' and turned back to the men.

'When they get here I want the camp to look normal. Remember, we know nothing about their politics and care less. We're paid to push the rig, that's all. We're a crowd of foreigners in the middle of a shooting war, trying to keep our noses clean, and we're scared.'

'None of us will have to be Laurence Olivier to act that part,' someone said.

'Let Mister Wingstead or me answer any questions. And no rough stuff, no opposition, no matter what.' This wouldn't be easy. Men like this wouldn't willingly allow themselves to be pushed around. But it was essential. Opposition could only bring reprisal.

A voice said, 'Why stay here? Why don't we scarper and hide out in the bush till they've gone, same as the army?'

Dr Kat said sharply, 'I am not leaving my patients.'

'I don't think it'd wash, or I'd be the first to go,' Wingstead put in. 'If there's no-one here they'll get suspicious and come looking for us.'

His calm decisiveness was what was needed. There wasn't a man amongst them who didn't respect him.

I said, 'Right, let's get this camp looking peaceful.'

I left Wingstead to organize things and went to the Land Rover to get the shotgun and its shells. I took them into the warehouse and hid them deep inside a bale of cotton, hoping that nobody had seen me do it. Then I went back to rejoin Wingstead at the rig.

He had persuaded the doctors and Sister Ursula to accept our need for deception, and to brief the nurses. I had a quick Took at Otterman and was not reassured. He looked desperately ill.

Geoff and I made a quick tour of the camp, checking to make sure that everything looked reasonably normal. Of the Nyalans there was no sign whatsoever, and Sadiq had taken off his platoon complete with all their transport. Camp fires had been extinguished and there was nothing to show that his departure had been anything other than orderly.

We settled down around the rig, tense and nervous, to wait for our visitors. They took about an hour to reach us, and it was probably the longest wait of our lives.

CHAPTER 19

We heard them before we saw them.

Bert Proctor cocked his head at the distant rumble, then settled at the table and picked up his cards. 'Just go on with the game,' he said quietly.

Ron Jones got up. 'Count me out, Bert. I'm too nervous,' he said.

I took his place. 'Deal me in. Just take it easy, Ron. No sweat.'

As Proctor dealt I noticed that Russ Burns was one of my fellow players. To my surprise he spoke to me directly.

'You play goddamn rough, Mannix,' he said. The 'Mister' had disappeared. 'Where did you get that goon you set on me?'

'I didn't get him. I inherited him. He's one of Wyvern's best rig hands,' I said. I didn't expect friendship from Burns but he sounded easy enough.

'I really thought he was going to cut my throat. He's pretty dangerous,' Burns said.

'I'll try to keep him on a leash,' I said casually. 'By the way, anyone seen Mick lately?'

There were headshakes all round.

Burns looked at his cards and cursed them. 'We've got a few things to sort out, you and me, after this is over,' he said, 'but if there's trouble in the meantime, I'm with you. What say?'

'Suits me.' We played a round or two with less than full attention. The engine noises were louder and there were voices shouting. Soon we put our cards down to watch the arrival of the army.

A few motorcyclists came first. They roared to a halt just over the crest of the hill that led down to Makara and the camp, and there was a glow in the sky behind them as the rest followed. Soldiers came through the bush on each side of the road. I hoped they wouldn't fan out far enough to find Sadiq's team.

The minutes ticked by and there were rustling sounds in the undergrowth. They were being cautious, not knowing what they were getting into, and nervous men could do stupid things. We stood fully illuminated while they closed in around us, and felt terrifyingly vulnerable.

Wingstead said loudly, 'I'm going to bed. We've got a busy day ahead. Goodnight, everyone.'. I followed his lead. 'Me too. That's enough poker for one night.'

Hammond, in a flash of inspiration, said equally loudly, 'What about all the activity out there, Mister Wingstead? Anything we should know about?'

'No, I don't think so,' he replied. 'Just manoeuvres, I should guess. They won't bother us.'

Truck after truck was coming over the crest towards us. I couldn't see any tanks but the trucks' headlights began to light up the whole camp in a glaring display. A ring of armed soldiers was gathered on the fringes of the camp, and we knew we were surrounded.

I shouted to carry over the engine roar, 'We've got company. Let's hope they can spare us some food and medical stuff.'

Into the light came a command car. In the back was a captain, his uniform identical to Sadiq's except that he wore a red brassard on his right arm. He was unlike Sadiq in looks too; where Sadiq had a distinctly Arabic cast and a light skin this was the blackest man I had ever seen. He was huge and burly and most unnervingly wearing enormous dark glasses; in combination with his dark skin and the night the effect was weird.

He stood up in the back of the car and looked from us to the rig and then back. He said in English, 'Who are you?'

I answered. The rig team of Wyvern Transport. Who are you?' But my counterattack didn't work; I hadn't thought it would.

'Are you in charge of- of this?' He indicated the rig.

'No,' I said, 'that's Mister Wingstead here. I am his associate. We were taking a transformer up to the oilfields. But now we have to head back westward.'

'Where is Captain Sadiq?' he asked abruptly.

I'd been expecting that question.

'He should be well on the road to Fort Pirie by now. He left at first light with his men.'

'You're lying,' the captain said. 'Where is he?'

One of his men hitched his rifle. We were in the hands of a military power, and an unfriendly one at that. I hadn't been accustomed to shutting up at anyone else's say-so for a long time and it was an unpleasant sensation. I put an edge on my voice. 'Now wait a minute, captain. You're not dealing with soldiers now. You'd better consult your superior officer before you start dictating to civilians. I told you that Captain Sadiq left this morning and pushed on. He had orders reassigning him. I don't know where he is now and I can't say I care. He left us flat.'

All this rolled off his back without touching. 'I do not believe you,' he said. There is much that is strange here. Who are all the people we found on the road as we came up?'

'Women and children? They're local folk, following us for food, and they're in a bad way. I think you should be doing something to help them.'

He regarded the rig again. 'What is that stuff up there?' He'd recognized the incongruity of the thatching.

That's a long story,' I said. 'You've been in Kodowa lately? Then you'll know what it was like there. The hospital wasn't usable so we turned the rig into a travelling hospital. We're trying to get the patients to Fort Pirie. Perhaps you can help us, Captain.'

He looked at me unbelievingly. 'Why didn't you take them to Kanja? There's a hospital there and it's closer.'