On the riverside of promise (25 page)

“You wouldn’t give up. She would, but not
you.” He then half-grinned and asked Ethan:

“How would you like to work for the French
Intelligence?”

“You’ve gone barmy, haven’t you?” said Ethan
in a stunned, almost childish voice:

“I’m not joking Ethan.”

“How can you possibly ask me such a thing?”
he said and shrugged uncomfortably.

“I told you this wouldn’t work,” said Nicole
with a scoff.

“That’s only because you’re not privy to some
matters,” replied Andy and beckoned Ethan with a hand: “Let’s go
inside.”

“Andy. Non,” said Nicole with emphasis as a
cloud of smoke escaped her nostrils violently.

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” replied Andy,
nodding.

“I love you Andy, I really do, but I can’t
understand what the hell it is you’ve turned into,” said Ethan with
a quavering voice.

“Please, indulge me.”

Ethan breathed deeply before he got up and
Andy led the way into the mansion, while Nicole followed silently
behind, her face a wary frown.

The inside of the mansion was decorated in
classic early-colonial French style, naturally including an
oversized chandelier. Intricate, expensive looking vases and
crystal glassware showcases could be seen on either side of a large
hallway. Louis XV furniture and large portraits of family members
filled in the living room; every corner was designed to instill a
sense of luxury, and money. Even the floors were made of
high-quality spotless wooden planks, polished and flaring even in
the evening light. The tapestry was an odd mix of geometric shapes
and fleurs-de-lis.

“Pretty posh, isn’t it? It used to belong to
some French trader from Port Harcourt,” said Andy casually.

“So now you’re into real estate? My God,
Andy! Us, working for the French!” cried Ethan incredulously,
flapping his arms about him.

“It’s not as bad as working for the British,”
replied Andy without emotion.

“I can’t bloody believe we are having this
discussion. Especially in front of someone who tried to kill me.
Did you order her to do it?”

Nicole promptly cut in and said with a cool
professional voice: “I simply tried to shoot you in the leg. If we
had wanted you dead…” she let her voice trail off, shrugged and
smiled disconcertingly.

“That’s true enough. You’ll soon see for
yourself, Ethan. Nicole, if you please,” said Andy and motioned
vaguely towards a nearby wall.

Nicole stood idle for a moment and looked at
Andy with anxious exasperation, her eyes glistening with
intensity.

“Please,” said Andy and for a moment there he
looked like a vulnerable, fragile man. Nicole sighed and moved
towards a small library case. She deftly reached behind it with one
hand, while she pressed on the wall with the other. A faint
clicking sound was heard and a small section of wall turned into a
door suddenly. A cement staircase appeared which led to a badly lit
basement; Nicole ushered them in with an expressionless face.

“Apres vous,” she said flatly.

Andy once again led the way down, with Nicole
always on the back. As they descended the air became more damp and
cold. Ethan noticed it wasn’t stale, which meant this place was in
regular use. At the bottom of the stairs they reached a wide
basement with a low ceiling. Andy turned the lights on and the
shadowy walls transformed into a maze of maps, notes, and reports.
The rest of the basement was filled with neatly stacked crates. On
the far wall there were two large radio sets and a large map of the
Delta, complete with cloth-connected pins and photos.

“This is our center of operations in Biafra.
It’s not much to look at, but it gets the job done. Well,
almost.”

“One of our centers of operations,” added
Nicole coldly.

“Well, yes. Certainly. Never put your eggs in
one basket, right?”

“Why are you doing this, Andy? In my mind,
you were out here keeping people from getting killed,” said Ethan
with a voice full of sadness, soft yet crackling. He shook his head
and searched for Andy’s eyes. When they met, Andy smiled
disarmingly and said:

“But I am. I’m trying to end this war. End
the suffering.”

“In favor of the French, no less. Do they
have you thinking you’re Robin Hood or something?”

“That’s one distorted, romantic view of
things. What do you really know about this war, Ethan?”

“It’s not that different from the rest now,
is it? All I need to know is I got sent down here in the first
place because Her Majesty thought all this messy affair is bad for
business.”

“Which is exactly what it has to look like.
Because it’s actually pure gold in business terms. Never mind about
the ethnic, racial, and religious differences; people might have
been throwing sticks and stones at each other over that crap but it
was always some greedy bastard behind it all.”

“I saw the mass tombs up north. That was no
bullshit, I can assure you.”

“One always needs some kind of scenery; props
to put on a show. Why did the Biafrans so eagerly and radically
demand to become independent all of a sudden?”

“Because they’re a completely different
people. I’ve trained Yoruba and Fulani men, and they all look down
on the Igbo as slaves, underlings, the lowliest of the low. They’ve
been doing that since before we even came to Nigeria.”

“So how come the slave, the one who is being
constantly beaten down and trodden - the one who’s been conditioned
to a life of misery,poverty and bad luck out here in the southeast
- how the fuck does he chin-up and gives everyone the finger?”

“Because the Brits are gone and he’s had
enough.”

“No, Ethan. Because the French whisper in
their ear and show them the money lying underground. Because
there’s still large fields that haven’t even been drilled, much
less taken real advantage of. Because there’s still a lot of
pipe-lining to do in these blasted swamps and rainforests. Because
the Delta is like a bloody sponge soaked in oil, waiting for
someone to suck it dry. And with a little help, lots of cries and
propaganda, some bloodshed and a bit of luck, the French government
could secure what might possibly prove to be the largest supply of
oil in Africa. Without all that crap in Algiers.”

“You’re saying the whole war’s been
staged?”

“I’m saying that when your eyes and ears are
open, you can learn a lot about people. And then you can put a few
ideas in their heads, make some promises, show a little bit of good
faith and you can start working with them.”

“Is that how they got to you?”

“You’re thinking I’ve been fooled, haven’t
you? Ethan, when this is over and done for, I’ll have a five
per-cent share on SAFRAP and a seat on the board of directors.
That’s one hundred and fifty thousand quid a year, plus shares that
will be worth tens of millions of pounds in ten years time, Ethan.
We’ll be fucking filthy rich.”

“You mean you two? You admit you’re a French
spy and married to that harlot?”

“I do. And I want you to come along. Listen,
Ethan and listen real hard for just this once. You’ve been in the
Royal Marines for what now?”

“Sixteen bloody fucking years. Ever since
Suez.”

“Mother almost died of grief back then and
father only hoped for a commission. And when that commission
finally came?”

“Kenya. What does this have to do with
everything?”

“You’re wasting yourself, Ethan. You’re my
brother and I know if you keep drinking like that you’ll end up an
alcoholic. You should’ve been a Major by now, isn’t that
right?”

“I hadn’t thought you kept your eye on
me.”

“I had to, it was part of my job.”

“In other words, you wouldn’t normally piss
on me even if I’d caught on fire, would you now?”

“Even if you had me cut off, I still knew
your life was going down the drain.”

“Whereas you’re coming up in the world,
aren’t you Andy? Your own oil company.”

“Our own oil company. Think of the legacy to
our grandchildren. And their own grandchildren. This is not just a
once in a lifetime opportunity, Ethan. It’s a historic
opportunity.”

“We haven’t really talked like this, face to
face I mean, in what? Five, six years? I suppose people change over
time and six years is a lot. But I’d never thought you can turn
into the opposite like that.”

“This hasn’t got to do with us, don’t you
understand?”

“Of course it’s got everything to do with us!
This is why I’m here in the first place, because you’re all I’ve
got left! Dammit!”

Ethan’s face broke down from the tension. He
was trembling visibly, breathing heavily, his eyes shimmering with
forming tears. His voice was quavering:

“I don’t know where you get your information
from, but I’ve had it with lying in bed alone. I still haven’t
found a bottle of cure-all and believe me I’ve done a thorough
search. My friends are either dead and gone or too busy with their
families that we haven’t spoken in years. So you see Andy, you’re
all I've got. It’s just that it’s not you anymore.”

“It is me, Ethan. It’s just that the world
around us keeps changing. Maybe you have a hard time following it,
but I’ve found my way. So come with me. Come with us.”

“And do what?”

Andy pointed to the map before replying:

“You were training men from the 3rd Marine
Commando Division. That’s the unit that took over Onitsha and Port
Harcourt, and they’re now aiming their sights towards Owerri.”

“I knew as much when I set out. What are you
trying to get at?”

“The federal government rarely has complete
control and a proper knowledge of the tactical situation. We know
that from our sources within. Onitsha and Port Harcourt might have
fallen, but everything in between is not under the control of the
3rd Division. Technically, you could call it contested territory,
but in reality we are as active and unhindered as ever.”

“Why is that?”

“Total disregard for securing their flanks.
Solely advancing through the main roads, which is practically one
main route into the Delta. They’re even superstitious about night
operations. All our scouting activity is done under the cover of
night; it’s like going for a romantic hike. No patrols to speak of,
no light and noise emission control; it’s as if they don’t care and
that’s because they really don’t.”

“That doesn’t sound like anything I’ve been
teaching them.”

“Whatever kind of job you’ve done, the men
you train never become trainers themselves. They form core squads
for scouting and penetration missions, but in reality they’re used
like a bodyguard for the commander-in-chief.”

“Either way, nothing about what they were
trained for.”

“No. But we’ve turned some of them and
they’ve proven very resourceful and quick about their feet and
wits. Small scale surveillance, pipeline sabotage, ammunition
raids, motor pools. We have a few of those teams doing really
precious work. We’d give you one such team to take on a mission
that might change the outcome of the war.”

“I thought every kind of mission was
important?”

“Not really. We want you to insert a team of
scouts along with Nicole and take out the commander of the 3rd
Marine Commando Division. Along with the 2nd Division, they’re
trying to form a pinch and force Owerri to either capitulate, run
away or fight. All three are bad. There’s little strategic depth
and losing the designated capital will be interpreted as a
political defeat. Fighting a prolonged siege is almost always the
last resort. We’ve made plans and contingencies, but we need to
stop this pincher movement from happening.”

“You want me to kill a Nigerian General?”

“Nicole is the designated shooter. You will
provide scouting, insertion and extraction. All you need to do is
get her within a mile of him. Once he’s gone, panic will ensue, the
operation will halt. They’ll probably think the bad juju got to him
or something.”

“I see. And everyone gets their money in the
end.”

“Well there are people in this war who are in
it for the kicks. As long as they’ve got bullets they’re happy to
shoot whoever you want them to shoot.”

“Whereas you are in it for the pension, the
benefits and the mademoiselle.”

“Why the bloody hell not, Ethan? What has
Queen and Country ever given to you that is so precious, so
irreplaceable, so worthy of it all? Why let them make all the money
and sent you as an unwilling pawn? What is it you’ve been doing in
Nigeria Ethan, that is crucial to the Crown? All they want is to
make money all the same. The difference is this way you get to
share the pie.”

“And that’s all that there is to it? What
about never leaving someone behind? Like you for instance.”

“Grow up, Ethan. Fighting is simply a means,
not an end. To you, maybe it’s all that has any meaning left in the
world. To the world, all that matters is power. And money is a very
flexible and ingenious way to store it. And it’s not just the money
going into the pockets of MPs, ministers and businessmen; it’s a
strategic asset. The more you control, the more you can gamble on a
crisis; and the more profit you can make. It really boils down to
money in the end, true enough, but some things can’t be bought at
any price, at any time. Just like oil.”