For me that anger was dangerous. Since there was no immediate way of giving expression to it I had to bottle it up. As a result, I became for a while less afraid of Ghaled and so less careful of what I said. I made mistakes.
It was all very formal to start with, rather like the first board meeting of a newly formed company.
Ghaled said, “Good evening, comrades.” Teresa and I said, “Good evening, Comrade Salah,” and were invited to sit down,
There were two other men besides Ghaled and Issa already seated at the table. Ghaled introduced them.
“This is Comrade Tewfiq. This is Comrade Wasfi. They are Central Committee members.”
Tewfiq was a sallow, pockmarked man with a heavy moustache and a paunch. Wasfi was a wiry young man with a very short upper lip and an unhappy half-smile which seemed permanent. I knew that I had seen both men before and could now guess where I had seen them. Tewfiq and Wasfi are fairly common names in those parts, but they also happened to be the given names of the hardware factory storekeeper and of the maintenance man whom I had marked down as suspect earlier in the day. It was reasonable to suppose that these were those same men.
They both gave me impersonal nods. They did not need telling who I was.
“Now,” Ghaled was saying briskly, “we have much work to do. Last night I described our supply problems and special needs in general terms to the new comrades. Tonight we will detail our requirements and make the necessary plans for their fulfilment. I must impress upon you the need now for the utmost urgency in carrying out assigned tasks. Every task, I repeat, every task must be completed within the next thirty days. Is that understood, comrades?”
There was a murmuring of, “Yes, Comrade Salah,” in which I didn’t join. Ghaled looked at me sharply.
“I did not hear you answer, comrade.”
“Because I have not understood. I have no knowledge of these tasks you mention.”
“You will have. But I have told you of the urgency. That you can understand, and will accept.”
“Very well.”
He stared at me for a moment. I was being insufficiently respectful, but he wasn’t quite sure that I realized that I was. I returned his stare with one of my own, innocent but expectant. He gave me the benefit of the doubt and turned to a paper in front of him.
“First,” he said, “the matter of detonators, those for electric firing. I will hear reports. Comrade Issa?”
“We have powder for five hundred, Comrade Salah. Samples have been tested in the laboratory and are satisfactory.”
“Comrade Tewfiq?”
“The copper tubes are on order, Comrade Salah, but not yet delivered.”
“Why not?”
Tewfiq spread out his hands. "They were promised for last week and the week before. I am in the supplier’s hands, Comrade Salah.”
Ghaled looked at me. “Perhaps Comrade Michael can help us. Fifty meters of one centimetre diameter copper tubing are required. It must be a hard grade of copper.”
“Who are the suppliers?” I enjoyed asking that question because I was sure that the truthful answer would have been that the hardware cooperative and I were the suppliers. After all, we would be paying for the stuff.
Of course he gave me the name of a metal wholesaler. It was the firm with which we normally dealt.
“There is a special government control on nonferrous metal purchases,” I said. “Was a quota number given with the order?”
Tewfiq was sweating now. “I do not know, comrade.”
“Why not?” snapped Ghaled.
“Because, Comrade Salah. .” He foundered for a moment. “Comrade, you know that I do not actually issue the orders myself,” he went on, pleading for understanding with his eyes. “I am only the...”
“Yes, yes,” Ghaled waved him into silence and sat brooding. I knew what was going through his mind. If Tewfiq explained that he was only a storekeeper and that a works office clerk did the actual ordering, I would put two and two together and Tewfiq’s cover would be blown as far as I was concerned. Ghaled was trying to decide whether or not to take me into his confidence. He decided against doing so.
“You must press for early delivery,” he told Tewfiq severely.
“Yes, Comrade Salah.”
“Continue your report.”
“We have the insulated connector wires, the tin caps, and the packing material. However” — he hesitated and then went on with a rush — ”I regret, Comrade Salah, deeply regret that there is still difficulty in obtaining the chrome-nickel alloy wire. It is not a material that I can reasonably order. I have tried. Comrade Wasfi will bear me out.”
“That is true, Comrade Salah.” Wasfi’s anguished smile stretched until it became clown like. “We said that it was fuse wire for electrical maintenance use, but they ordered fuse wire. I think they may not be the same thing.”
Ghaled looked at Issa. “Are they the same?”
Issa took refuge in some papers in front of him. “The specifications call for chrome-nickel alloy wire of thirty gauge,” he said.
“That is not an answer to my question. Are they the same?”
“I do not know, Comrade Salah.”
Ghaled looked at me.
“No,” I said, “they are not the same. Chrome-nickel alloy, nichrome as it is called, is a resistance wire. It is used in electrical heating elements because it can get hot without melting or oxidizing. Fuse wire melts when it gets hot. What is the chrome-nickel wire needed for?”
“Show him,” said Ghaled.
Issa pushed a sheet across the table to me. He hated doing it, I could see. He was the technical authority there, not I.
A drawing on the paper showed how the detonators were to be made. A six centimetre length of one centimetre copper tube was to contain five grams of mercury fulminate held between plugs of cotton wool.
One end of the copper tube was capped with tin; the other end had a wax seal holding the two insulated firing leads. The ends of these two leads were in the middle of the fulminate powder, where they were connected by a small loop of fine chrome-nickel wire. That was the firing circuit. All you needed then was a six-volt battery and a switch. When the circuit was closed, the chrome-nickel wire, no thicker than a hair, would become white-hot almost instantly and the fulminate would explode, blowing off the tin cap and detonating any high explosive with which it had been placed in contact.
It was a simple design but a practical one. If you followed the instructions it could be counted upon to work. I continued to study the drawing to give myself time to think. I was tempted to sabotage the whole detonator project by advising them to use the fuse wire, but decided that it would be too risky. Issa had said that the powder samples had been tested. They would certainly test the completed detonators. If the test sample didn’t work, any modification I had suggested would certainly be blamed.
I looked up.
“Well?” said Ghaled.
“A very thin fuse wire might get hot enough before it melted to ignite the powder charge, but I don’t think you could rely on it. I think you must have this fine-gauge chrome-nickel.”
“We must have it, comrade,” he admonished me. “The question now is, where do we get it?”
Issa saw a chance to regain lost face. “If it is used on electric heating elements,” he said, “we can obtain it easily. Only four or five meters are required. We can get a few of these elements and strip them.”