He scowled. “Taking the place won’t be a problem,” he said. “Hell, we could always give them Matilda tanks and some other contemporary stuff; they won’t meet any real opposition until Iraq, which is in a state of unrest. Having friends in the region will be very helpful, won’t it?”
McLachlan nodded. “We are going to need friends in the Middle East,” he said. “By now, the Shah has begun the task of wiping out those who would challenge his rule, now that he knows we’re going to invade. Or would have invaded, or something. There’s also the report of Soviet tanks moving into Georgia, positioning themselves to threaten Turkey – or Iran.” He glared down at the sheet of global reports. “You’d think with all our technology we could do better than ‘vague reports.’”
“If the game was easy, anyone could play,” Hanover said wryly. “Have your office contact the JRHC group, in the name of the intelligence we shared. Tell them that we’ll provide them with transport, and have some up and coming guy from the MOD go through a plan with them, with a proposed launch date of one month.”
He smiled tiredly and examined the map. “With the new secured airfields, we can fly smaller aircraft, Tristars for example, around the world. The Americans and Australians promise that they’ll have airports capable of taking bigger jets soon, which should improve our communications still further. The leaders of the dominions and the colonies are coming here for the conference in a week, and we have to be ready for them. They will be sceptical; we will have to be careful what information we give them.”
He picked up one final sheet of paper. “The issue of the American… internees is quite serious,” he said. “I think its time to put C Section to work.”
McLachlan gaped at him. “Prime Minister – Charles – is that necessary?”
“Perhaps,” Hanover said. “You know what’s at stake.”
McLachlan lowered his eyes. “I know,” he said grimly. “I do understand. I just wish that there was a better way.”
Chapter Twenty: Nationalists, Fascists and Goons
Algiers
Algeria
4th August 1940
The book was entitled A Savage War Of Peace and had the improbable publishing date of 1988. The British officer’s explanation, that it was from his personal collection, didn’t make sense to Messali Haji. A lot about his current situation didn’t make sense at all.
The French, whose usual approach to anything hinting at Algerian nationalism was a mix between horrified parental punishment and recrimination, and brutal oppression, had clapped him and a large percentage of his organisation, which dared to suggest that Algerians should have equal rights to Frenchmen, in jail. They’d been waiting there until the city had fallen – surrendered – to a British attack. From what General Robert Flynn had said, and what Messali was certain he’d left unsaid, something very odd had happened to the British.
For that matter, he wasn’t certain if he was a prisoner or not. His current set of rooms had been owned by Admiral Darlan, who’d been unceremoniously arrested when the city fell, and they were as comfortable as an officer of Vichy France felt he deserved. On the other hand, there were guards outside – and a strange book to read. His English was fluent and English was a very easy language to read; it took him only five hours of study. They even gave him breaks for prayers!
“I do not understand,” he said, when General Flynn returned. They conversed in Arabic; he hadn’t been surprised to discover that the Briton spoke Arabic, although with an odd accent. “What is this?”
“It’s a long story,” Flynn said. His unshaven face smiled tiredly at him. He seemed to be treating Messali as an equal; something unique in Algeria. Algerian Muslims were only equal to Europeans when it came to dying on the battlefield. “You see, we’ve come back in time.”
Messali blinked at him, feeling his beard bristle. Time travel was not part of his worldview. And yet there was the odd book, detailing a history of Algeria that horrified him.
“A lot of mistakes were made, back then,” Flynn said. “As you can see, your people won their independence from France, almost plunged into a civil war at once, finally did have three separate civil wars – and are living in a disaster area in 2015. We’re offering you the opportunity to change that.”
Messali stared at him. “And you will seek to rule us like puppets, fit only to die for you?” He asked. “What’s in it for you?”
“A safer world,” Flynn said. “You see, back when we came from, the world was still feeling the after-effects of decolonisation, when the nations of Europe gave up their colonies. Of all of the nations that are colonies today, only a handful, like India, can be termed any kind of success. The price of rapid decolonisation was anarchy, dictatorial rule, and theocratic rule, nothing that helped the people. Where I come from, Africa is a sinkhole of violence, blood and ruin. I served in many tin pot states; you cannot even begin to imagine how far your people will fall.”
Messali, despite himself, began to believe him. “What exactly are you offering us?”
“The benefits of hindsight,” Flynn said. “What we are hoping you will do is convene a council of… local dignitaries to run Algeria, eventually becoming an independent democratic state. That’s the price of our help; you embrace democracy and equal rights for all.”
“Even Frenchmen?” Messali asked. “The Pied Noir won’t like that.”
“Too bad,” Flynn said. “We would suggest that you allowed them to live as equals – they do have valuable skills you will need – but if you can’t stand their presence, then ship them back to France, once the war is over. We’ve interned the French troopers who were stationed here; they can join you or we’ll return them to France once the war is over.
“As for democracy, and why you should embrace it, countries with a stable democracy grow faster,” he said. “Democracy is a form of natural selection; your economy will expand faster and you’re sitting on top of valuable reserves. Starting from where you are, you could match France or even best her, very quickly. You have to give everyone a stake in your system; democracy and equal rights can do that for you.”
Messali smiled. “Equal rights to women, Jews, even Frenchmen?”
“Yes,” Flynn said. “Trust me; it pays off in the long run.” He took a breath. “I don’t want to tell you to hurry, but we don’t want to remain here for any longer than we need. The sooner a provisional government is formed, the better.”
“We did want to work with them, you know,” Messali said. “We would have tried to form a united government.”
“I know,” Flynn said. “I’ll come see you later. You can tell me your decision then.”
“I’ve already made it,” Messali said. “I’d be glad to try, for my country.”
General Flynn hadn’t been looking forward to the next meeting. Admiral Darlan, one of Vichy’s most senior officials, even Vice-President at one time, was not Britain’s greatest fan. In the original history, Darlan had been killed by a resistance fighter; he wondered how the news had affected the Contemporary man.
“These quarters are quite unacceptable,” Darlan snapped, as soon as Flynn entered. “The food is appalling and the bed is hard.”
For a moment, Flynn wondered if his command of French was failing. The complaints seemed to be extraordinarily pedantic claims for a man facing the full knowledge of the future. He’d made certain to underline the passages about the future of France; war, civil strife, even the Paris Uprisings.
“These Anglo lies are nothing, but lies,” Darlan snapped. “You have illegally declared war on a state that was not at war with you, and invaded our territory. The forces of France will avenge this insult full fold and you will be crushed without mercy!”