and your men do with all of your equipment.'
Carl thought they had been pretty quiet, but he conceded. 'All right, Mamud, as you wish. We'll wait here.'
Gus sat in the shade, leaned back, eyes half-closed. At first Carl thought he was mumbling to himself, till he caught the words. Gus was singing, ' Vor die kaserne, vor die grossen tur, ' the old soldier's song of Lilli Marlene. That meant Gustaf was content, though it did seem to upset the lizards, who scuttled for cover at the first off note. Gus just dismissed them as unappreciative critics.
It was fully dark before Sharif Mamud returned to squat beside Langers.
'I have seen the camp. Sunni Ali has it well guarded with several men at the entrance to the caves and more spread out around it in the rocks. They do not seem to be overly alert. Here, let me show you.' On the hard-packed earth, with his fingernail, Mamud drew a map of the layout of the camp and where he had seen sentries placed.
'It is as Monpelier said. I would estimate forty to fifty men in the immediate vicinity, but most of those are camped by a spring half a kilometer away. If we can remove the sentries without alerting the others, then we will have a chance of getting in and out. I heard some of the Tuaregs speaking. The hostages are there.'
Carl thought about what Mamud had said. The layout wasn't very good. It meant he had to break his men up in order to have any cover fire at all. It wouldn't leave him much to hit the tunnels with and there was no telling what they'd run into inside them. He gave the men around him the layout, described his plan of action, then said, 'If anyone has any suggestions I'm ready to listen.'
They looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and shook their head in the negative.
'All right then, that's the way we'll play it. I know it looks tough but I can't think of any other way to do it. I'll give each of you your assignment and we'll move into position an hour before dawn. Till then get what rest you can. Tomorrow promises to be a bit rough.'
'Gus, keep an eye on things. I'm going with Mamud for a while. I want to take a look-see at a trail he told me about that we may want to use when we make our break.'
Gus grunted agreeably as he opened a can of spaghetti.
Sharif Mamud led the way, taking Langers down to where a trail branched, one fork going back the way they had come and another leading north and south.
'Have you been on the northern path before, Mamud?'
'Yes, it will take us north for about ten kilometers, then we can cut back to the west and leave the mountain. It will bring us out near to where you want the Land Rovers to meet us.'
Sims wiped the dust off his face and hands with a damp rag. God! This was what he bloody well hated the most. It was so dirty. Unsanitary. However, in spite of the best that nature could do to deter the team of Land Rovers — snakes, sandstorms, gullies, and fields of boulders — they were where they were supposed to be. He hoped that the others hadn't had any difficulties in making the crossing.
He almost wished he'd gone with them. He'd had about enough of the Land Rover jerking his backside out of kilter at every hole and rock it came into contact with. The shocks were about gone. Also, it had been a bit lonely. He was always known as the sociable type. The long ride by himself was a bit depressing. But it had to be done and he was a good sort who would not bother the other chaps with his unhappiness.
The moon was out bright and clear. It was time for his check-in call. Turning on the radio Sims waited. At precisely midnight it came in, clear as a bell. He was using Dominic's former call sign, Gold.
'Right'o Silver. I read you quite clear. Yes, we are on site and in position.'' Pause. 'Very good, sir. We will be ready. Best of luck and do take care, hear?'
Calling Graves and Felix over to him, he told them, 'It's going down in the morning, chappies, so better fag out for a couple of hours. We will have a bit of a way to go but I don't want to move out till there's more light. We can't take a chance on losing one of the Land Rovers now, can we?''
Langers's eyes came open. His mental clock was working. Stiff, he rose and stretched out. Gus was watching him. 'About that time, Herr Feldwebel?'
'Yes, get 'em up.'
Gus roused the rest of the team. They gathered around Carl.
'Let's do this right, men. I don't want anything on you that makes noise. Tape everything down. Don't dump any water from your canteens though. We'll leave them, our packs, and the radio where we'll pick them up on the way out. Once we're ready to make the hit, I don't want you to have anything on you but your weapons. Kitchner, I want you on the mortar. You'll have plenty of time to gauge your distance so I don't want many misses. We're going to need you for cover when we make our getaway. Once that is done you'll destroy the tube, so use all the rounds you can. When we take out the sentries I'll use myself, Dominic, and Egon.'
Sharif Mamud interrupted. 'It would be best if I were also included in case we are spotted. My being able to speak the language might buy us a few seconds.'
Langers would have preferred to leave him out of it, but he did need all the help he could get. 'All right, Mamud. You work with Dominic. At this time I want the silencers put on. If we run into any unexpected visitors going down the trail, let them do the shooting. No noise, that is vital!'
Kitchner asked, 'What about the Land Rovers, sir? Will they be on time?'
'Yes. I spoke with Sims at midnight. They'll be ready and where we want them. Don't worry about them. Just do your job and everything will work out. Once more I'm going to tell you: Be careful and don't take chances. A bad hit and you're out of the game forever. Unless you'd prefer that we leave that to the Tuaregs.' From the expressions on their faces he knew there wasn't anyone who preferred that fate to a quick clean death.
'All right. You have ten minutes to get ready, then we go.'
They were silent enough now to please even Sharif Mamud. Keeping to the shadows, they moved down the trail. At the junction where the trail branched off Langers had them stow their excess gear. He gave them one last break. From here it was only one more kilometer to the caves. He wanted them rested.
Mamud went ahead a hundred meters. His eyes and ears might have been old but they were still the sharpest there. Carl came next. The men spread out with ten meters between each of them. In case of ambush they wouldn't be bunched up.
They reached a ring of boulders from where they could look down on Sunni Ali's camp. It was almost time. Mamud pointed out the guards, dark shadows in desert robes. Carl called Egon, Dominic, and Mamud to him and gave them their targets, then indicated to Kitchner where he was to set up the mortar. The men stacked the mortar shells they'd been carrying beside the tube. Kitchner took a long look at the target area, making mental calculations on the angle and the number of charges to use for propellant.
He gave Langers a thumbs-up sign. 'Piece of cake, sir.'
Weapons were given one last check-over. The time to move was now. They began their descent to the caves.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sunni Ali was taking his ease in his tent; the caves were too confining. He sat cross-legged on cushions of woven camel hair, sipping coffee with seeds of cardomon added for spice. Pungent, aromatic, the thick brew soothed his thoughts.
Things were going well. He had received a communication from his agent: St. Johns was ready to comply with his demands. He asked only for time to work out the details of transport, a difficulty which Ali understood. Shipping large quantities of weaponry from one continent to another would require some planning. He had no doubt that St. Johns could accomplish the task. The old bandit had been doing exactly that since the end of World War I.
Allah had been good to Sunni Ali, giving into his hands the one thing which St. Johns valued more than his wealth — his son. For one such as he, this son was the continuation of his name, his only link to immortality — a powerful inducement to make a recalcitrant personality see reason. If there were no unforeseen difficulties, Sunni Ali estimated that he should receive the first shipment of arms in no more than five weeks.
He was glad that he did not have to live up to his threat to dismember the boy and his wife one piece at a
