After a while he excused himself, after getting nowhere with Billson, and went to his truck where he bedded down. Soon thereafter Konti came out of the darkness and spoke to Byrne, who questioned him closely. Paul said to me, 'Inquisitive, isn't he?'
'Not abnormally so. Chit-chat between ships that pass in the night.'
'I don't like him.' Paul pulled his djellaba closer about him. 'I don't think he's what he says he is.' I knew it, but Paul was showing an acuity which surprised me. Perhaps it was the sixth sense of the hunted animal.
A few minutes later, out of Paul's hearing, Byrne said, 'Kissack is camped about a mile from here. I sent Konti to scout him out.' He chuckled. 'I don't think Kissack will be comfortable out there. The wind's still rising.'
'Do we stand watches?'
Byrne shook his head. 'Konti will watch all night'
'Bit hard on him, isn't it?'
'Hell, no! He'll sleep in the Toyota tomorrow. For a Teda to sleep while on the move is sheer unaccustomed luxury.'
Next morning the storm had blown itself out and Lash had gone together with his truck. 'Went just before dawn,' said Byrne. 'Sudden guys, these friends of yours. Kissack shoots folks without saying a word and Lash goes, just like that. Un-neighbourly, I call it.'
'So what now?'
'On to Chirfa and Djanet.'
Chirfa was nearly a hundred and fifty kilometres north of Seguedine and consisted of a Tuareg camp and one deserted Foreign Legion fortress which might have stood in for Fort Zinderneuf in Beau Geste but for one thing – there was an anchor carved above the main gate. Because we were about as far away from the sea as a human being can get on this planet I stared at this improbable emblem and asked Byrne about it.
'I wouldn't know. Maybe it was built by French marines.'
The Tuareg seemed different from those I had met before, being more shabbily dressed. Byrne said they were of the Tassili Tuareg. From them he bought a donkey, which he gave to Konti. 'This is where he leaves us,' he said. 'He'll go east, past Djado and on to the Tibesti.'
'How far to the Tibesti?'
'Maybe five hundred kilometres; it's over in Chad.'
'Walking all the way?'
'Yeah. But the donkey'll help.'
'My God!' I watched Konti walk out of sight, towing the donkey.
As he walked back to where the Toyota was parked Byrne said, 'We've been followed most of the way here, but I lost sight of them about an hour ago. Two trucks.'
'Lash and Kissack.'
'I guess so. Wish I hadn't lost them; they're a couple of guys I like to keep my eye on.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
About ten kilometres out of Chirfa we climbed the pass that is called the Col des Chandeliers for no apparent reason because I didn't see anything that looked like a candlestick. At the top Byrne stopped under a cliff on which was a huge engraving about twenty feet high of a barbaric figure holding a spear. He ignored it, having seen many rock engravings before, and climbed up a little way to where he could get a good view of the way we had just come.
Presently he came down again. 'No one in sight.' He seemed disappointed. 'I'd just as like know where that bastard is.'
'I knew it,' said Paul. 'You mean Lash.'
Byrne shrugged. 'You're a big boy now, Paul. Yeah, I mean Lash.'
'Who is he? I felt there was something wrong with him.'
I sighed. 'He might as well know, Luke.' I looked at Paul and said deliberately, 'Lash is Kissack's boss.'
He was hurt. 'Why didn't you tell me before?'
'Because we didn't know how you'd take it,' I said. 'You're apt to go off half cock. We found out about him back in Bilma.'
'But who is he?'
'I don't know, but he's in the packaging industry like I'm a candidate for the Playboy centrefold. My guess is that he's a big noise in the London underworld.'
'Why would anyone like th-'
'For God's sake, Paul! I don't know. Stop asking unanswerable questions.' I turned to Byrne. 'Let's go.'
He shook his head. 'Either they're behind us or they're ahead of us. If they're ahead, then we'll run into them sooner or later. If they're behind, I'd just as soon know it. We'll wait here awhile. Paul, climb up there and keep watch.'
Paul hesitated, then nodded briefly and climbed up to where Byrne indicated. Byrne said, 'We'll give them an hour.' He turned and walked away and I fell into step beside him. 'You wouldn't be holding out on me, would you, Max? I mean, there isn't anything you haven't told me.'
'You know as much as I do.'
'Then maybe it's Paul. We may have to talk to him seriously.'
I shook my head. 'I've done that – filleted him. He knows nothing.'
Byrne gave a soft exclamation, then stooped and picked up something. He examined it then handed it to me. 'A souvenir of the Sahara.'
It was a small blade carved from stone and about an inch long and half an inch wide. It was beautifully polished and the cutting edge was still keen. 'A small chopper,' he said.
'Tuareg?'
'Hell, no!' He pointed upwards at the engraving of the giant with the spear. 'His people. If you keep your eyes open you can find dozens of things like that around here. Three thousand years old – maybe more.'
I passed my finger over the polished stone. Three millennia! It seemed to put me and my doings into an oddly dwindled perspective. Three-quarters of an hour later when Paul shouted I had found another, larger, axe-head and a couple of arrow-heads. I hastily pocketed them and ran for the Toyota.
Byrne was up on the cliff. 'Maybe six kilometres back,' he reported when he got down. 'Both trucks – that suits me fine. Let's go.' So off we went, bouncing down the other side of the Col des Chandeliers and heading north- west.
I kept an eye to the rear and presently saw the faint dots trailing dust plumes like comet tails. They kept an even distance behind, not dropping back and not catching up, and we went on like that for perhaps a couple of hours. Then we came to a beacon by the side of the track. Byrne said, 'Balise 593. Check the odometer – I want exactly fifty kilometres on top of what we've got now.'
I kept an eye on the odometer, watching the kilometres roll by. None of us talked much. Byrne because he was concentrating on his driving, me because I had nothing much to say, and Paul, I suspect, because his thoughts were occupied by the trucks behind. When fifty kilometres had been added to the score I said, 'This is it.'
'Not quite,' said Byrne, and drove on for another half kilometre before he stopped. He got out and swung himself up on top of the Toyota where he stood gazing back. Then he got back into the cab and remarked, 'I wouldn't want them to lose us now.'
'Why not?'
He pointed off to the left. That, believe it or not, is supposed to be a track, and that's the way we're going. We'll soon find out how professional Lash's guides are.' He waited five minutes and then moved off, swinging on to the track which was hardly distinguishable.
The country changed and we lost sight of the mountains, being on an immense gravel plain as flat as a billiard table from horizon to horizon. 'This is called reg,' he said. 'Not bad for travelling on if you don't mind the monotony. I guess it was sea bottom at one time.'
Monotonous it certainly was and I began to become sleepy. I looked back at Paul and saw that weariness had
