Six Bloody Summer Days

by Nick Carter

  "Okay. Make the answer good. I need a plane to get me to Budan right now. Where do I find it?"

  He stared at me, blinked, rubbed his chin and then grinned like a Cheshire cat and pointed his bottle at Doosa. "That sonofabitch could order us one. They're two NAA Dakotas sittin' on the line, checked and ready to go. One of 'em is scheduled for a run to…"

  "I don't want their life history. Where do we get a crew?"

  "He can order a crew. All he has to do is call flight operations. The phone service is lousy, but at this hour…"

  "Get up, Doosa."

  He didn't have to be told twice, but I could see he had recovered some of his composure. The glint was back in his eye. He began to brush off his uniform.

  The phone was in the entrance foyer. It had white walls and a parquette floor. In the dining room everything had been shadowed, but here, with the light on, we all stood out clearly. Doosa gazed at me as though mine was a face he wanted to remember but at the same time would like to forget.

  "I'm going to give you some instructions," I said. "You follow them or we'll leave you for the garbage collector. You will order an aircraft, you will order a crew. They will be standing by for your arrival." I gave him the details while Hans contacted flight operations.

  When we left the house Hans and I were wearing the uniforms of two of Doosa's men. For a minute I thought Hans was going to wreck the show. He saw what they'd done to his dog and he went after Doosa. The Colonel was twice his height but he was no match for the enraged mechanic. It was all I could do to haul him off while Erica calmed him down. Then I got Doosa back on his feet and in some semblance of marching order. I didn't want him to look so mauled that he wouldn't pass inspection.

  Hans drove with Doosa beside him. I sat behind the Colonel, Erica next to me. She was silent during most of the drive, glancing at me every now and again. I reached out and took her hand. She held on hard, her grip warm and grateful.

  "You're feeling all right?"

  "I'm fine now."

  "It was no good leaving you behind."

  "You couldn't have left me."

  "You've been to Budan before?"

  "Frequently. I'm with the World Health Organization. There's a clinic there I visit regularly."

  "Good. Then the trip won't be wasted for you."

  "It wouldn't be wasted in any case." She held up the thermos. "Would you like another cup?"

  "Not right now, thanks."

  Hans kept his mind on driving, and I kept my eye on Doosa. I had wanted to put him in the back with me, but that would have put Erica in the front. A woman riding in the front of an official car at this hour would trigger attention. Doosa knew he was a finger squeeze away from being dead. He was either a coward or a good actor. Had we been alone and had there been time, I could have found out which quick enough. But for now I had to play by feel, and I didn't much like what I felt.

  Doosa had given instructions on the phone that he would be arriving at the checkpoint gate at approximately 0230. Those on duty had been notified that there was to be no delay. It was not an order I could depend on being carried out. "Let's make sure you know your lines, chum. When we are stopped how will you handle it?"

  "I will declare who I am…"

  "In French not Arabic."

  "And I will order them to let us pass if they do not do so automatically."

  "Suppose you're asked to get out of the car?"

  "I will remain where I am and demand to see the officer in command."

  "Hans, if anything goes wrong and I shoot the Colonel, what will you do?"

  "I'll have another drink and check to the dealer. No, I'll go on emergency rich and head for the hanger. We'll bail out of this thing at the side entrance, go on through the hanger and pick up my dune buggy where I left it on the other side. After that, I leave it to you."

  After that we'd be playing it strictly by ear. I was hoping it wasn't going to be necessary, and thanks to Doosa's fear, or his latent talent as an actor, it wasn't.

  When we came within shooting range of the hanger checkpoint, a blinding light was thrown on us. Hans braked to a stop and Doosa stuck his head out the window and bellowed angrily. The light went off but not Doosa.

  "Just don't lay it on too thick," I said.

  We went through the gate entrance, returning the salutes of the guard. It couldn't have been smoother. I felt Erica relax, her breath going out in a long sigh. I gave her knee a pat.

  "When we pull up by the plane, Erica, you come out my side, go past me and get on board. Don't have anything to say to anyone. Doosa, you follow her. I'll be right behind. Hans, you bring up the rear. The pilot will want to know our destination. Tell him Budan and that he can file his flight plan after we take off."

  It wasn't difficult to locate our plane. The hanger lights bathed the flight line, and we could see the two man flight crew, doing their walk around check of the old DC-3 Dakota. Hans pulled up beside it, but he didn't leave the car as instructed. I realized why. Aside from the pilots there were two NAA maintenance men, making a last minute inspection. Even in his ill fitting uniform Hans figured they'd recognize him.

  Erica went on board fast. The pilots came to attention before Doosa, saluting him. He gave them their instructions, and they stood aside waiting for him to ascend the steps.

  I couldn't take the chance of leaving Hans behind, and I certainly couldn't take my eye off of Doosa. I knew the ground men couldn't be dismissed. They had to stand by with the fire extinguishers when the plane was started. They were hovering around the cabin entrance like a couple of moths.

  "Colonel, sir," I said, "you wanted to check on whether that call came through. Couldn't one of these men do that?" I nodded at the pair. "And the other could have a look at our rear axle."

  Doosa was a quick study. He glanced over his shoulder at me blankly for a second and then snapped orders.

  "Sir," the pilot said, "we can contact base operations on the radio and see about your call."

  "No need. He can use the exercise." He indicated the rounder of the two and then climbed on board. I followed, wondering if I should nominate him for an Emmy. It was just too damn pat. But whatever it was, it was getting me where I wanted to go, and it was keeping Doosa alive and that was number one on his list.

  The pilots came on after us and a few seconds later Hans made his entrance. He activated the closing mechanism on the cabin door. Once he had it secured, he leaned against it with a weary sigh. "Jeezuz, both those characters out there work for me!"

  "Do the pilots know you?"

  "Nah. They're military from Rufa. Whenever a bastard like this flies they use military crews."

  The Dakota was an executive type, for VIPs. It had a couple of wide lounges running along the sides, a bar, a desk, reclining chairs and floor carpeting.

  The co-pilot stuck his head out the cockpit door and said, "No messages for you, sir. Will you fasten your seat belts? We'll be taking off directly."

  A few seconds later I heard the energizer start its building hum, then an engine choked and coughed and came to life with a solid backfire. "All aboard for Budan," Hans said, eyeing the bar.

  The Colonel sat across from me, seat belt secured, taking his ease. His hatchet face was blank enough but I saw a hint of smugness in his eyes.

  "Doosa, if you didn't sabotage Mendanike's plane, who do you think did?"

  "Perhaps Mr. Gueyer can tell you that," he said, trying to return the game to square one.

  "I'd be interested to hear your theories," I said. "It's not only a long way to Budan, it will be a long way from the altitude we fly at to the ground. You may take that route while we take the other."

  He thought that over for a minute while the plane came to a halt and began its before-take off engine check. "Think it over until we're airborne," I said.

  It was a different sensation taking off in an old twin engine clunker. You wondered if the thing was going to get up enough speed to fly, and then you realized you were flyi
ng.

  Once the engines were throttled back I told Hans to go forward and have the pilot turn off the overhead light. "You ride with them. When we're about an hour from landing, I want them to contact Budan so that security headquarters there can be informed that their chief is arriving. He wants the latest information on Osman's whereabouts plus a car waiting at the airport."

  "You bet." Hans stood up, bottle in hand.

  "And you'd better leave that here. You don't want to arouse suspicions, and you don't want to start any bad habits."

  He frowned at me, looked at the bottle and then replaced it. "Okay, pal, anything you say."

  "Erica," I said, "why don't you lie down up there and sack out?"

  She gave me a smile and stood up. "Yes, sir."

  With the main lights off and just a couple of side lights on, the Colonel and I sat in shadow. I didn't offer him a cigarette. "Now let's hear it loud and clear. You swear on the Koran your boss didn't finish Mendanike. Who did?"

  "We suspect outside forces."

  "Don't give me that CIA crap."

  "We don't know who. Soviets, Chinese, Israelis."

  I knew he was lying on the Soviet score which meant he was lying, period. "What are your grounds?"

  "Since we didn't do it, someone else did. Osman is supported by the Chinese."

  "Sure. So Mendanike wants to see Osman in a hurry, and they bump him off before he can tell them why."

  Doosa shrugged. "You asked me who. There is little to go on. The accident looked like a normal accident. Your friend said he knew otherwise. Naturally, we wanted to know, we…"

  "What about the mercenaries you've been bringing in, the cute boys from South Yemen and other points?"

  That brought a moment of stillness. "Those people came in under Mendanike's orders. He never said why. We just had instructions to let them enter. It worried General Tasahmed. We…"

  "Where did these mercenaries hang out?"

  "Mostly at Pakar."

  "What's there?"

  "It's our second largest city. It's not far from the Libyian border."

  "What have they been doing for excitement."

  "Nothing. Just hanging around."

  It was a can of worms and a can of lies. It still added up to the obvious. This bastard was the head of the NAPR's execution detail, but like Tasahmed he was still worth more to me alive and in reasonably good shape than dead — at least until I'd had a chance to talk to Osman.

  There was a small lavatory compartment at the rear of the plane. I tucked the colonel in it. To make sure he stayed put I used the pants of the uniform I'd been wearing to tie his hands and feet. In strips the pants made pretty fair rope. I left him seated on the throne, his own pants pulled down around his ankles for good measure. Then I stretched out on the lounge opposite Erica and was asleep in two minutes.

  At some point it was not Doosa who reached paradise but Nick Carter. A warm and gentle hand had unfastened my belt. It began to caress and stroke me. It undid buttons and opened a zipper. It fanned out over my body and was joined by its twin. My chest, my stomach, my everything came in for a touch that was night music at its most subtle.

  I awoke as her lips and body came down on mine. My arms went around her, surprised to find there was no sweater, nothing but rounded artistry. With our tongues gently exploring, I rolled us over on to our sides, and my hand went down to find that what was unclothed above was unclothed below. I began to return her favors and she moaned, nodding her head and then whispering against my lips, "Oh, yes! Yes!"

  I shut off her words with my mouth and let my other hand concentrate on her breasts. My lips, too, were hungry for them.

  "Please!" she choked as I eased her under me, feeling her hips seeking a mutual rhythm.

  I entered her slowly, her fingers anxious to bring me into her. "Wonderful!" she gasped.

  For her it was part emotional reaction to what had nearly happened and part some unspoken but quickly recognized attraction between us. I knew this as I made love to her, and so there was no weariness. Instead, there was a deep giving and receiving, a soaring mutuality of thrust and counter thrust.

  It was too good to last and too urgent for us both to find release. We came, she sobbing in the delight of her orgasm, me knowing you don't find paradise if you're asleep.

  We lay on the lounge, taking our ease, smoking a cigarette. The steady rumbling of the engines was lulling me back to sleep. "You know," she said reflectively, "I don't know what you are."

  "I'm a man on his way to Budan, traveling first class magic carpet."

  "But it really doesn't matter," she ignored my reply, "at least right now."

  "Remind me to introduce myself formally some day."

  She ruffled my hair and leaned over to kiss me. "I think I like you much better informally. I like you saving me from gombeen men, and I like you up here in the sky where no one can bother us."

  I pulled her down beside me. "Maybe you'd like a repeat performance."

  "I'd love a repeat performance." Her hand went up to stub out the cigarette.

  "One good turn deserves another," I said.

  Chapter 12

  The sound of the engines changing pitch awakened me. The early morning light was flooding through the cabin. Erica lay on the lounge across from me curled in sleep. I sat up and yawned and had a look out the port. We were over high arid country, letting down through a clear sky, free of the heat haze that would form later. The mountains were bare and there wasn't much green in between. Budan, I knew, was the exception. It lay in a valley fed by underground acquifers the only real water supply in ten thousand square miles.

  Hans came out the cockpit door. Despite his battered look he was bright eyed and bushy tailed over the prospect ahead. "We're coming in," he said, "we'll make the approach right over the crash site. You come up forward and I'll show you what happened."

  "Sit down a minute," I said. "Was Budan informed of our ETA?"

  "Sure, just like you said."

  "Good. Now get out of that uniform and stay here with us."

  "But I gotta…"

  "You simmer down and listen. This is not a field trip for the pleasure of Hans Gueyer."

  "Yeah, I know, but the crash…"

  "You can look into it all you want once I see how things stack up. Doosa will be with me."

  "Hey, where is he?"

  "Powdering his nose. You've been here before, what kind of a set-up is there at the airport — security, facilities, and so on?"

  Erica woke up while he was filling me in. There was a single east-west strip, hangar and terminal building. Since this was an official flight there would be no clearance check, and security never consisted of more than a fiddler's guard. It was about as I had figured.

  "I assume there's a guest house or a hotel for visitors."

  "Sure, the Ashbal."

  "You and Erica will be staying there until I come for you."

  "Now wait a minute, pal, what do you mean, stay?"

  "When you're not out digging in the wreckage or getting thrown in jail and Erica isn't visiting the clinic — that's where you'll stay. I don't know how long this is going to take. Understand?"

  "Yeah, yeah, sure, fine. I got you." He was happy again.

  I heard the gear thump down. "And if you don't get out of that uniform I'll peal it off of you."

  I began talking to Erica, trying to ignore the look in her eye. "This could take me a day, maybe more, but you should be okay if you stick close to the clinic. Will the howling for Mendanike be as intense here as in Lamana?"

  "Nah," Hans said, pulling off the olive green pants. "A lot of Osman sympathizers here."

  I stood up, deciding it was time for our host to join the crowd. "One more thing, don't take any weapons with you. Stash what you have here." I planned to do the same with the exception of Doosa's .45 and Pierre.

  The Chief of Security was not at his best. There was a choleric cast to his swarthy complexion. His bloodshot eye had a nice g
laze. His bottom Up had developed an unbecoming pout. He'd been on the potty too long.

  I freed his hands and feet and he sat glowering rubbing his wrists. "You can pull up you own pants," I said. "Then you can join us for coffee."

  There was coffee. Erica had seen to it on the small galley forward. She played stewardess and served the crew as well. Hans had no time for restoratives, his face pressed against the window.

  "Hey, come here, look! I can see where they went in! Right on the dime, right the way I said! Perfect!"

  I glanced out the window and saw that we were flying parallel to the edge of the valley. It looked lush, but the mountains on either side of us were something else. I hoped Osman wasn't far away or holed up in a cave. Hawk had put no fixed time limit on my search, but every minute without an answer was another minute too many.

  "You see the wreckage?" Hans chortled.

  I saw the wreckage. It looked like a small junk yard spread along the flat land a few miles short of the runway, a long black streak cluttered with burned and broken aircraft parts. It was apparent no one was collecting them for investigation. The fact should have meant more to me, but Doosa came out of the john limping, still rubbing his wrists, distracting my attention.

  "Sit there," I indicated, and he sat down stiffly.

  "Erica, bring the coffee and come join us. I have to give the benediction. Hans, you, too."

  After we land," I said to Doosa, "you will give the crew orders to remain at base operations. Hans, you and Erica will stay on board until after the Colonel and I have left. None of us will leave the plane until after the crew. Hans, what about transportation for you two?"

  "There should be a taxi, but if there ain't, I can borrow the station chief's jeep. I'll drop Erica at the clinic, and then I'm on a bee line."

  "If you're not at the Ashbal or back here on board when I'm ready to go, you'll be left behind."

  "Well, how the hell am I supposed to know when that will be!"

  "When I'm ready I'll check the Ashbal first, then the clinic, then here. That's the best I can do for you."

  "What is it you're after?" Erica asked as the plane slowed in its descent, flaps extended, wheels reaching to make contact. "Maybe I can help."