Hazard

by Gerald A. Browne

  It would do perfectly, Hazard decided. He asked the stall-keeper how much.

  The stallkeeper told him, “Etnen guineh.”

  Hazard didn’t understand. The stallkeeper showed him with two fingers. Two Egyptian pounds. Hazard agreed. The stall-keeper glanced upward to Allah and shook his head in disdain of anyone who didn’t care enough to bargain. He would have settled for half that, even less.

  Now Hazard held up his fingers. He wanted six of these magnesium extrusions.

  The stallkeeper understood and was momentarily at a loss. He had only this one. But he knew where he could get others. He rushed off and in a few minutes came back with five more of the same. Not precisely the same. Three were about a half inch less in width.

  All the better, Hazard thought.

  The stallkeeper bound the extrusions together with cheap string, and Hazard found his way back to the car.

  Next stop was Hannoux, the large department store on Shari El-Tahrir, where Hazard bought:

  a long black caftan robe

  a black shirt

  a pair of tennis sneakers

  6 ordinary hot-water bottles

  4 crystal vases packed safely in polystyrene

  a ladies’ compact containing black mascara

  From there he was taken to a hardware store in the Bulaq district for:

  2 empty gallon cans

  100 feet of quarter-inch nylon line

  15 bolts and nuts

  an electric drill

  a set of metal-working bits

  a galvanized-tin funnel

  several jig-saw blades

  a can of flat black paint

  a paint brush

  a screwdriver

  a pair of pliers

  a toilet plunger

  They then went to a used-car lot on the road to Alexandria, where Hazard bought a 1956 British-made Willys enclosed Jeep with four-wheel drive and special traction tires for desert travel. Hazard took it for a short test drive, and, although considerable black smoke came from its exhaust which meant it was an oil eater—it ran pretty well for a seventeen-year-old. Anyway, it should still be good for a sprint.

  He paid the dealer six hundred dollars, drove the Jeep away and followed the hired car back to Mena House.

  A hotel boy came out and carried Hazard’s purchases up to the suite. All except the empty cans. Hazard took those to a gasoline station about a half mile down Shari Al Haram. He had the Jeep lubed, gassed, and its oil changed. He also filled the pair of gallon cans with gasoline.

  When he got back to the hotel he took the cans up with him. The moment he entered the suite he noticed something new. In his absence the hotel had installed a television set. There was a note begging pardon for the inconvenience Hazard had presumably suffered until now without a TV.

  It was quarter after five. He had a lot of work to do and was anxious to get at it. However his stomach was empty and complaining. He’d eaten nothing all day. Instead of ordering from room service he went down to the hotel restaurant for a thick steak and a double order of scrambled eggs. Steak and eggs, the traditional fare of boxers before big fights.

  After the meal he stopped in at the gift shop off the lobby to buy a map of Egypt and a Zippo-type cigarette lighter that had the face of the Sphinx crudely painted on it. The woman behind the counter fueled the lighter for him.

  Back up to the suite.

  Before starting he got organized, laid everything out on the floor. He selected the proper-sized bit and locked it into the electric drill. Using the arms of a chair for support, he measured, marked, and drilled three holes, left, right, and center, a half inch from both ends of each of the six magnesium extrusions. He inserted the bolts to make sure they fit.

  Next, he unpacked the vases. Placing them to one side, he removed the polystyrene from the cartons and took the chunks of that white, light stuff into the bathroom. Also the funnel, the hot-water bottles, the gasoline, and the toilet plunger. He kneeled down beside the bathtub and closed the drain.

  First the polystyrene. He tore it into tiny shreds that he tossed into the tub. It covered the bottom of the tub with a four-inch layer. Then he poured in the gasoline. He used the toilet plunger to mash and stir until the mixture was a sticky viscous substance. Over the tub as he was, the fumes got to him, made him a little dizzy. He had to leave the bathroom for a short breather.

  Getting back to it, he inserted the funnel into the neck of one of the hot-water bottles. With a hotel water glass he transferred some of the substance from the tub to the bottle. When the bottle was plumped out full he screwed its cap in good and tight. They were common red-rubber hot-water bottles with a little loop at the bottom for hanging up. He filled all six of the bottles and still had some of the substance left over. He drained the tub and rinsed it, as well as the plunger and the funnel and the glass. An oily film stayed on everything, but he hadn’t made too much of a mess.

  Bathtub napalm.

  He thanked his memory for the formula that he’d seen in one of those CBW articles.

  It was now ten to eight.

  Plenty of time.

  He placed each of the magnesium extrusions diagonally upright against the bathroom wall. He painted their bottom surfaces and outer edges black. He also painted the sneakers. It was a fast-drying paint—dull, flat black. Keeping things neat he put the lid on the paint can and discarded it and the brush in the wastebasket.

  It was getting dusky outside. He switched on the bed lamp and took a look at the map. He saw that the entire area west and northwest of the Pyramids was, as he’d thought, nothing but desert—the Sahara. His eyes drew a line directly northwest to the Mediterranean and hit on the coastal village of Sidi Abdel Rahman. Most of the coast along there was uninhabited. Hazard mentally x’d a spot ten miles east of Rahman. The next nearest place, he noticed, was El Alamein, the famous World War II battle site.

  At nine o’clock he sent to Keven. Telling her once more to stand by for messages on the quarter hour. Again he sent only four words at a time. He kept the total message to twelve words so it required only three transmissions.

  TELL ISRAELIS IMPERATIVE RENDEZVOUS

  TOMORROW DAWN MEDITERRANEAN COAST

  TEN MILES EAST RAHMAN

  That was just in case, a way out for him if his luck held. For sure there’d be a lot of pissed-off Arabs on the lookout for him at the airport and all other usual departure points.

  Which was also the reason he’d bought the Jeep. Now, he decided, it was time to attend to it. He went out to the parking area where he’d left it. At the end of the hotel drive he took a right and drove up to the plateau of the Pyramids. No one there now. He parked the Jeep out of sight on the west side of the Grand Pyramid between two of the many large humps of dirt that were the old tombs. He realized then how bright the night was with the moon flooding a silvery light, defining things even at a distance. It wouldn’t help.

  Returning to the suite he had some time to spare. He ordered up a couple of beers. The hotel offered Schlitz and Pabst but he decided to try an Egyptian brand called Stella. It was quite strong and had a strange licorice flavor. Swigging straight from the bottle, he turned on the television. The show in progress was “Peyton Place,” and he got a laugh watching all those small-town mixed-up American characters emoting in Arabic. When that was over, in place of a commerical a woman commentator came on to extoll the benefits of intrauterine devices. With diagrams. After her came an old “Bonanza.”

  At eleven-thirty he got ready.

  He put on the black shirt and the painted black sneakers. Then he cut several short lengths of nylon line and knotted them together to create a harness that went over both shoulders and around his chest and back. He tied the six hot-water bottles to it, so that he had one on each side, three behind, and one right front. That left room for the Llama and its holster.

  He checked the Llama. It had a full clip. He took it off safety.

  Six pockets: His jeans had four and the shirt two. Int
o them he put the bolts and nuts, jig-saw blades, pliers, screwdriver, mascara compact, Zippo lighter, his passports, money and the key to the Jeep. He reserved the right front pocket for his special knife.

  He tied the magnesium extrusions together and wrapped them in some of the store paper from his shopping. What remained of the nylon line, about eighty feet, he gathered into a neat series of loops and hung from his belt. He rechecked to make sure the hot-water bottles were secure. Then he put on the black caftan robe. It was floor length and plenty loose all around. He felt bulgy but didn’t look it.

  He switched off the television, paused to guzzle the last of the beer, picked up the package of extrusions and went out.

  He felt conspicuous going through the lobby but no one paid him any special notice. As far as they were concerned he was just another tourist gone native. As he left the hotel it occurred to him that he was beating them for the tab.

  Down the road a short way, he crossed over to the golf course. No need to hurry, except to escape that part of himself telling him it was foolish to risk everything on little more than a hunch. He countered that with there are no sure things and other times when he’d gone against the form and won. Like that afternoon two years ago at Belmont when he’d bet it all on a maiden filly just because he’d liked the way she held her head, and she’d gotten out in front and gone wire to wire for him. He also thought maybe he wouldn’t be doing this if he’d had some action lately. None for two weeks. Hell, how long can a boozer go without a drink?

  He passed between two cypresses and there was the house, less than a hundred feet away. As shown on Gabil’s plans it was large and enclosed all around by a fifteen foot wall. The wall was two feet thick. Set six inches above its top surface was an infrared alarm system with small relay units spaced at regular intervals. Anyone trying to climb over would unknowingly break the invisible beam and activate the alarm, a wowing siren. There were also floodlights along the top of the wall, directed in and down. The house was situated well within the perimeter like an island within an island.

  One thing at a time, Hazard told himself. He paced off forty yards along the west side and looked up. There was where he’d try to go over. He took off the robe.

  Then he got out the mascara compact. His mouth was so dry he had to tongue his palate and gums to work up saliva. He spat on his fingers, rubbed them on the little black cake and then on his face, repeating that until his face, neck, ears and hands were covered.

  Kneeling, he unwrapped, untied and separated the extrusions according to width. He connected one of each size with the bolts and nuts, using the screwdriver and pliers to tighten as much as possible. Alternately adding a narrow and a wide, he soon had them all joined. He picked up the thirty-foot length they now created. It was light, but unwieldy.

  He leaned it against the wall, so that one end hit about two thirds of the way up. Gauging from that, he lifted slowly until that end was where he wanted it, precisely on the upper outer edge of the wall. For a test he reached up where he could along the length of extrusions and hung all his weight from it. It was rigid. The lower end dug in and held in the sandy soil.

  What he had was a ramp six inches wide going up at about a thirty-degree angle.

  It turned out to be more difficult than he’d thought. He went up slowly, hesitating after each step to make sure he had balance before taking the next. He couldn’t have done it in regular shoes, but the sneakers really grabbed.

  As he climbed, more and more of the house came into view beyond the wall and then the compound around the house, brightly lighted. At the rear corner of the house, about seventy feet to his left, he saw an armed guard. A clutch inside cost him concentration. He wavered but managed to regain his balance.

  A few more steps and he’d reached the top of the wall. He placed one foot on its outer edge, then the other foot. The advantage he had was knowing the infrared beam was there, knowing exactly where it was. It gave him a clearance of six inches below to work with and nearly twelve inches on each side. He told himself to imagine the beam was a visible high-voltage wire, and stepped high over it to gain the inside surface of the top. Keeping in place, he turned to face out.

  The next part was going to be tough. He couldn’t squat because of the beam. He had to bend from the waist to reach the end of his makeshift ramp. Using both hands, he got a good grip on it and pulled it to him and up, more and more of it, hand over hand until he had enough to bring it up horizontally over his head. He executed another slow turn in place, to again be facing the house.

  Gabil’s plans had indicated a distance of at least forty feet all around from the wall to the house. Except here where the servant’s quarters winged out some and were built lower, about equal in height with the wall. It was, according to Gabil’s plans, twenty-five feet from the wall to the flat roof of the servant’s quarters.

  Hazard fed out the length of extrusions, black side down, until it reached. Carefully he allowed the far end to rest on the roof. Then he placed his end on the inner top surface of the wall, between his feet.

  In addition to the man on guard at the rear corner of the house there were two others at the front corner. All had automatic rifles slung to their shoulders. They were leaning, slouched, restless, smoking, apparently feeling secure—at least they weren’t very alert. The compound was bright as day from all the lights along the wall. That, as Hazard had hoped, was in his favor. The lights mostly eclipsed anything above their downward glare. Hazard’s painting the underside of the extrusions black and making himself as obscure as possible were extra precautions. The house, Hazard saw, was three tall stories with various levels and balconies, about thirty rooms.

  He placed a sneakered foot on the narrow ramp and took the first step. Then another. He told himself to take it slow and sure, just keep going, but when he was half way across he was pounding so hard inside he wanted to stop. He tried not to think about the consequences of falling; bullets from their automatic rifles chopping and burning into him. What was happening to his legs? He felt as though he didn’t have legs, numb from the hips down. Still, his feet kept moving, short step after short step until he reached the roof.

  He let out a long, quiet exhale. Had he held his breath all that time?

  He decided there was less danger in leaving the ramp where it was. For his return trip. Stepping lightly, he went across the roof and over a railing to be on a wide exterior balcony. From that balcony he went up to another level and from there climbed onto the main roof. It was also flat.

  Again from Gabil’s plans, Hazard knew all he had to do was cross over and go down one level to reach Mutsafa’s room. Mustafa might be sleeping. With a window open. It would be easy. One silenced shot and it would be all over.

  The notion tempted Hazard but he pushed it out of mind and went to the far rear edge to look down.

  About six feet below was a spacious horizontal roof of glass, countless individual panes framed by wood. In most other parts of the world the frames would have been metal and the panes sealed tightly in; however, here where rain was a miracle there was no need for that.

  Considerable dust had gathered and caked on the panes but Hazard could make out the lighted room beneath. No one there. It was, as Gabil had said, a swimming-pool area, all blue-and-white mosaic tiles. No water in the pool, instead thick planks forming a platform.

  Resting on the platform … the canisters.

  Hazard swung his legs over and got a foothold on a small architectural outcropping. He gently lowered himself onto the glass roof, not sure it would take his weight. He felt it give a little, but staying on the edge where it was likely to be stronger he made his way to the corner. Just around the corner, he noticed, was an upright balcony column that might serve his purpose.

  He took out the screwdriver, squatted and got to work. The putty around the panes was sun baked and old and under the blade of the screwdriver it came off in chunks. When he had removed all the putty from around the first frame he inserted the
blade of the screwdriver between the glass and its frame and pried the glass up so his fingers could lift it out completely. He repeated that process until the six corner panes were removed.

  He used a saw blade to cut through the frames. They were soft enough wood and the saw didn’t make much noise, but it was tedious work. Hazard’s impatience made him want to just break the frames out. However, he kept sawing and he’d soon created a large-enough opening. He removed the nylon line from his belt. A helpful idea occurred to him at that moment. He let the line go free and then regathered it in layers of equal-sized reverse loops. He inserted the end of the line through the loops and as he pulled it through and out it automatically formed knots every three feet. He’d learned that one night in a Lackawanna boxcar from a black ex-sailor whom he now thanked.

  He tied the line securely around the balcony column before dropping it down through the opening.

  Knot by knot he went down the line, about thirty feet to the tiled floor. He saw there was only one entrance to the room—large double doors that connected to the rest of the house. The doors were closed now. Gabil had told him two guards were constantly posted outside the room. He had to be quiet. No mistakes.

  The atomizing pods were off to one side. The canisters lay no more than a yard apart on the platform, their business ends pointed toward the shallow part of the pool nearest the door. Noiselessly, Hazard stepped onto the platform. He saw the serial numbers on the canisters, and hoped he was right. He took a quick look at the unlocking valves the Arabs had made. They were threaded into place. A simple lever on the valve would release the contents of the canisters. The thought of it gave Hazard a chill.

  He untied one of the hot-water bottles, unscrewed its cap, and poured napalm over one of the canisters. The substance was thicker, more gluey now. It ran slowly down and around and under the cylindrical shape, adhering to the metal. He distributed the rest of his supply of napalm equally over the two canisters.