‘Rounds over their heads!’ Phil urged. ‘Cause a diversion.’ Already he was pushing his rifle into position.
‘No, no!’ went Pav. ‘For fuck’s sake! They’re so fired up, they’d go completely hyper if they thought we were shooting at them. There’s three of us and about fifteen of them, plus more indoors. We’d get massacred.’
We’d arrived just in time for the final act of a violent drama. Joss screamed the same few words again and again in a high tenor voice, almost a falsetto. When the prisoner gave no answer, he stood up and appealed to the assembled court in a burst of impassioned ranting. Without understanding his exact words, we knew what he was asking: guilty or not guilty? In a single roar a dozen voices gave him the answer he was looking for. Instantly he raised his right hand in a kind of Nazi salute and shouted an order. Half his jurors came up on one knee and levelled their AK47s at the prisoner. Another yelp of command, and cra-cra-crash! A ragged volley riddled the victim, who jerked backward, then slumped into his ropes, with blood pouring from multiple wounds in the chest.
I shot a glance at Phil. His eyes were gleaming. ‘Phworrh!’ he went. ‘Didn’t give the bugger much chance, did they? What the hell did he do?’
‘He was enemy,’ I said, ‘fighting for the Afundis. And he was white. That’s enough.’
We lay still as we watched the court break up and disperse. For the time being adrenalin had cleared my head. I felt apprehensive, but calm.
‘Give ’em a minute or two to cool down,’ I said. ‘If they saw us right now, they might carry on firing.’
‘Let’s pull off,’ Pav suggested.
‘Not a chance,’ I told him. ‘We’re going to sort the bastards out.’
We watched as somebody brought up one of the Gaz jeeps, cut down the body, slung it aboard and loaded up the one already on the ground. The vehicle drove off round the back of the big building, and Joss stalked away into it, throwing strange, dismissive gestures with his right hand. There seemed to be something peculiar about his gait. He was moving stiff-legged, as though on stilts. A couple of squaddies carried away the chair and box that had acted as the seat of judgement.
We gave it five minutes, sweating literally and metaphorically. The afternoon sun beat down on us, and we knew our position was dodgy to a degree. It looked as though Joss was high on something. Power? Drugs? The mercenaries’ hooch? We could have withdrawn and returned later, but that would have entailed loss of face, because sooner or later he’d hear from the boatmen that we’d come across and had been hanging about, too scared to go on. There was only one thing to do: confront him.
We expected to be challenged at the gate, and we were. Two sentries put on a hostile front and barred our way, saying, ‘No visitors to the mine.’ But by then I was quite angry, and the message soon got through. One of them shouted across to the central building, and presently a man came out to wave us across.
‘Chill out,’ I told the others as we went forward. ‘Play it cool.’
We found Joss sitting at a trestle table just inside the big doors, where he seemed to have set up a temporary office. He’d taken off his beret and laid it on one side of the table as he checked names on lists with a corporal standing at his elbow. He looked hot and harassed, and our arrival did nothing to improve his temper.
No cheerful ‘Join the party!’ this time. Instead, he demanded, ‘What do you people want?’
‘Courtesy call,’ I said, easily. ‘We came down to see if you needed any help.’
‘If I want help, I’ll tell you.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Inwardly, I was boiling. Who did this arsehole think he was? Who did he think had planned the attack on the mine in the first place and got his team through it with so few casualties? But all I said was, ‘Sure, but I’d like a word with the old Belgian.’
‘What about?’
‘Private business.’
‘There’s no private business here.’
‘All right, then. I want to ask him about the mission hospital at Msisi.’
‘Msisi? Where’s that?’
‘That’s what I want to find out. Somewhere down river. Whinger’s burns need proper treatment.’
‘Well, you can talk to the man in front of me.’
‘Listen, Joss.’ I kept my voice low, staring into his bloodshot eyes. ‘Watch yourself. I don’t know what’s got into you, but there are one or two things you need to remember. The first is, your president’s getting a full report on this campaign.’
He shot me a glance, but said nothing.
‘We saw you execute those prisoners just now.’
He jerked in his seat, and said angrily, ‘You had no business to be watching.’
‘We didn’t mean to. We stumbled on it. But those shootings might not be entirely to your credit.’
‘The men had been stealing diamonds,’ he said defensively. ‘They were caught with their pockets full of them.’
I felt my scalp prickle, and I said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d fought off the temptation to load up myself.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘The way you maintain discipline’s your business. But I’m also reporting on your attitude in general.’
‘You take it easy!’ He pulled himself upright and swayed about, banging a fist down on the table. ‘Don’t try threatening me. You went into the strongroom. I’ll have you searched as well.’
Still I kept my cool. ‘Search away if you want,’ I said evenly. ‘But I can tell you, there’s no point. I didn’t nick anything, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have it on me now. I’d have hidden it long ago.’
Joss slumped back into his seat. The man was obviously high on something, but the strange thing was I couldn’t smell any alcohol.
I decided to up the voltage a bit, and demanded, ‘Look. What the hell’s the matter with you? Has one of our guys pissed you off or something? What’s got into you? Calm down a bit.’
I saw his broad nostrils flaring with anger. ‘You’re telling a senior officer how to carry on!’ he shouted. ‘You’ve no business to give orders!’
From close beside me, on my right, Phil uttered a strangled curse. I sensed he was on the point of erupting. With his temper, he might thump the Kamangan commander any second.
I turned towards him, silently mouthed ‘For fuck’s sake!’, and then said out loud, ‘I’m not giving orders. I’m talking about common courtesy.’
‘Courtesy!’ yelled Joss, struggling to his feet again. ‘The best courtesy you could show would be to get back to UK, pronto.’
Still I held my cool. ‘If that’s what you want, fine. We’ll start tomorrow. But I don’t think President Bakunda will be very chuffed if our assignment ends prematurely just because you can’t keep your temper.’
The hands on the table top were clenching and unclenching. Beads of sweat were standing out all over the man’s forehead. I stared at him, amazed that he could have changed so completely in such a short time.
He took a deep breath, sat down again, and asked, ‘What is it you want?’
‘Like I said, to speak to Boisset.’
‘All right. We’ll get him. But only in my presence. No private spying conversations.’ Over his left shoulder he gave a rapid order in Nyanja, and the corporal departed for the inner machine sheds.
I almost added, ‘I’ll talk to him anywhere I bloody well like,’ but I bit it back, and asked, ‘While we’re waiting, how many men did the rebels lose in the attack?’
‘Twenty-seven,’ came the prompt answer.
‘All black?’
‘Twenty-five black, two white.’
‘Including the man shot just now?’