Juggernaut. Desmond Bagley

Hammond, as could be expected, was belligerent about it. ‘This wasn’t allowed for in any contract, Mannix. What are you going to do about it?’

      ‘It’s hardly Neil’s fault,’ said Kemp.

      ‘I am going to do something about it,’ I said. ‘Something I should have done before this. I’m going to put you two properly in the picture.’

      ‘Was that what you said you wanted to talk about?’ Kemp asked, giving me a chance to cover myself. I nodded. ‘Overdue,’ I said. ‘But first I want another word with Captain Sadiq. Want to come along?’

      Kemp and Hammond conferred briefly, then Kemp said, ‘Yes. Everyone’s a bit jittery still. We shouldn’t move on until we know the situation. I wish to God Geoff was here.’

      ‘We’ll try to contact him,’ I said. I didn’t see what he could do but if his presence was enough to calm his partners’ fears it would be a big bonus. We found Sadiq, as expected, glued to his earphones in his car, and according to the usual ritual he handed them to his sergeant before joining us. I said, ‘All right, Captain. What’s the story?’

      His voice was neutral. ‘You heard Colonel Hussein. The Army is holding manoeuvres.’

      I stared at him. ‘Don’t give us that crap. No army captain is going to threaten to shell a civilian vehicle during war games. He’d be scrubbing latrines next. And that was damn nearly more than a threat.’

      Kemp said, ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Captain.’

      I jerked my thumb towards the sergeant. ‘You’ve been monitoring the wavebands pretty constantly. What have you heard?’

      Sadiq shrugged. ‘It’s difficult to tell. There’s a lot of traffic, mostly in code. There seems to be much troop movement. Also a lot of aircraft activity.’

      ‘Like those jets this morning.’ I had plenty of ideas about that but I wanted his version. ‘What do you think is happening?’

      ‘I don’t know. I wish I did,’ he said.

      ‘What does Radio Nyala have to say?’

      ‘Nothing unusual. Much music.’ Kemp and I glanced at one another. ‘There was a little about us, news of the new power plant at Bir Oassa. And other talk as well …’

      He was getting closer to the real thing. His voice had become very careful. I said nothing but waited, out-silencing him. He went on at last, ‘There was other news from Bir Oassa. The new airfield was opened today, with a ceremony.’

      I gaped at him. ‘But it isn’t meant to be ready for a couple of months at least. Who opened it?’

      ‘The Air Chief Marshall.’

      My first irrelevant thought was that I’d guessed his title right after all. Then I said, ‘Semangala. Right?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      Kemp said, ‘Isn’t he the chap who was in France when we left Port Luard? The only military bigwig who couldn’t attend?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said grimly. ‘And what’s more, he’s meant to be in Switzerland right now. He left two days ago with his family. I saw him at the airport when I left for Lasulu. He got all the usual military sendoff, except that he was in civvies. Are you sure, Sadiq?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ His eyes were sad now. ‘He made a speech.’

      ‘Who exactly is Semangala?’ asked Hammond. ‘Is he that important?’

      ‘He’s the Air Force boss and right now he’s the most important man in Nyala. Wouldn’t you say so, Sadiq?’

      I was pushing him and he hated it. ‘I don’t know what you mean, sir.’

      ‘Oh yes, you do. You’re not stupid, Sadiq, and remember, neither am I. I know the score as well as you or anyone else in your army. Listen, you two; I’m going to have to make this short and sharp. This country is on the verge of civil breakdown and military takeover, and if you didn’t guess that it’s only because you’re new here and you’ve had your hands full with that giant of yours. The Army is split; half supports the Government and half wants a military junta to take over. It’s complex but don’t worry about the reasons for now. Both sides need the Air Force to give them a victory, and up to now Semangala has been playing one side against the other. Am I right so far, Sadiq?’

      ‘I am not a politician,’ he said.

      I smiled. ‘Just a simple soldier, eh? That’s an old chestnut, my friend. Now, Semangala has been in France, probably buying planes or missiles. He comes back and decides he needs a holiday: a funny time to choose but he’s his own boss. He flies out openly with his wife and kids, but he’s back the next day. He probably had a plane on standby in Zurich. My guess is that he’s made up his mind and has parked his family out of the way. Now he’s bulldozed through the opening of the Bir Oassa airfield, which means that it’s squarely in his hands instead of being run by the civil aviation authority. The only question that needs answering is, which side did he come down on?’