desert would be the water supplies of the attacking army.
The General crossed the floor to the large-scale map, of Eastern
Africa which covered one wall, and he picked up the ivory pointer to
touch an isolated spot in the emptiness below the mountains.
'The Wells of Chaldi, he read the name aloud. 'Whom shall we send?'
The Captain looked up from his pad, and observed how the spot was
surrounded by the forbidding yellow of the desert.
He had been in Africa long enough to know what that meant, and there
was only one person who he would wish were there.
'Belli,' he said.
'Ah,' said the General. 'Count Aldo Belli the fire eater
'The clown, 'said the Captain.
'Come, caro,' the General admonished his aide mildly.
'You are too harsh. The Count is a distinguished diplomat, he was for
three years ambassador to the court of St. James in London. His
family is old and noble and very very rich.'
'He is a blow-hard,'
said the Captain stubbornly, and the General sighed.
'He is a personal friend of Benito Mussolini. II Duce is a constant
guest at his castle. He has great political power-'
'He would be well out of harm's way at this desolate spot,' said the
Captain, and the General sighed again.
'Perhaps you are correct, caro. Send for the good Count if you
please.' Captain Crespi stood on the steps of the headquarters
building,
beneath the portico with its imitation marble columns and the clumsily
painted fresco depicting a heroic band of heavily muscled Italians
defeating heathens, ploughing the earth, harvesting the corn, and
generally building an empire.
The Captain watched sourly as the huge Rolls-Royce open tourer bumped
down the dusty, pot-holed main street.
Its headlights glared like monstrously startled eyes, and its burnished
sky-blue paintwork was dulled by a light flouring of pale dust. The
purchase price of this vehicle would have consumed five years of his
service pay, which accounted for much of the Captain's sourness.
Count Aldo Belli, as one of the nation's great landowners and amongst
the five most wealthy men in Italy, did not rely on the army for his
transportation. The Rolls had been adapted and designed to his
personal specifications by the makers.
As it slid to a graceful halt beneath the portico, the k Captain
noticed the Count's personal arms blazoned on the front door. - a
rampant golden wolf supporting a shield with a quartered device of
scarlet and silver. The legend unfurled beneath it read, 'Courage arms
me.' As the car stopped, a small wiry sun-blackened little man in the
uniform of a black shirt sergeant leaped from the seat be-side the
driver and dropped on one knee in the roadway with a bulky camera at
the ready to capture the moment when the figure in the wide rear seat
of the Rolls should descend.
Count Aldo Belli adjusted his black beret carefully, sucked in his
belly and rose to his feet as the driver scurried around to hold open
