Place of Bones by Larry Johns Read Free Book Online Page A

directional microphone. Whose was it?”
    “The Americans, we think.” He shrugged again, turning the car onto Djoui Road and heading north towards the Reserve de Lefini. “Then again, it could be the South Africans, or the British.” He chuckled. “Take your pick, colonel.”
    “General interest?” I asked. “Or specific?”
    He sighed. “General, of course. It always is.” He glanced at me. “But also, we fear, somewhat specific also.”
    I forced some grit into my voice. “So it’s off, then.” I felt a flutter of hope. If the whole thing were called then Brown would be left high and dry, without a shot having been fired.
    “Good Lord, no!” Luang laughed, and the flutter subsided. “But we are moving matters forward somewhat.”
    I swallowed my disappointment. “But if the operation is blown...”
    Luang shot me a sideways glance. “Don’t look so alarmed, colonel. It’s all very much routine, I assure you.”
    “Routine!” I said, coming on as quietly outraged as I knew how.
    Luang nodded. “Of course, colonel.” He pulled an apologetic face. “Forgive me, perhaps I should have broken it to you differently.”
    Before I replied, I snuck a look at the rear view mirror. The road behind was clear except for a cattle truck we had overtaken a minute before. I said, “You told me in Crete that there would be no such problems this side of Zaire.” What he had actually said was that they, presumably meaning the Bank of China, would be responsible for security as far as the Zaire border. Not quite the same thing. But not that much different, either.
    Luang looked pained. “I can only repeat, colonel, that the problem is ours. Not yours. And I mean that in the overall sense, not merely as a reference to our contract. If we act quickly neither you nor your command will be compromised in any way. And do not forget,” he added, glancing over at me, “ We plan to be here in the Congo a lot longer than you do. And I am not in the least perturbed. Conscious of a need for haste, yes, but not perturbed.” He shot me another glance and suddenly chortled. “If you could only see your face, colonel!”
    “What the hell should I look like?” I demanded. “From where I sit the whole operation looks about as compromised as it can get.” This, I thought, was a good line to take. If I baulked enough Luang might, he just might, come around to that way of thinking. He might even come to the conclusion that he had hired the wrong man for the job. I went on, “It’s one thing to slip a tail at an airport, but moving three hundred men, plus several truckloads of equipment, across more or less open country, is a ballgame of a different color. They, whoever the hell they are, will not need directional microphones, mister Luang, they’ll be able to televise the whole damn deal, and sell tickets into the bargain!”
    Which spur-of-the-moment speech, I thought, was pretty good.
    Luang sighed and shook his head. “You are a soldier, colonel. And I fully understand and sympathize with your reaction. But the problem is just not that acute, neither is it out of the ordinary - our version of the ordinary, I mean. Please...” He reached over and touched my shoulder. “Calm down, and let me explain.”
    I nodded stiffly, my ray of hope all but gone. “Please do,” I said testily.
    He thought for a moment, and then began, “Intelligence is a strange business, colonel. Strange, and often bizarre. We watch, we record. They watch and record. We build dossiers on people and events, they do the same...”
    “They?”
    “They. Anyone with any kind of an intelligence organisation at all. What would you say, for example, if I were to tell you that you have already met an agent of SAI - South African Intelligence?”
    I stiffened, wondering what the hell he was going to say. “Here in Brazzaville?”
    Luang nodded, smiling broadly. “Within the last ten minutes.”
    I relaxed again. Whatever he was going to say, it could