I pointed to this road. 'Do you know anything about this route?'

'Not much. I saw it, of course, when I did the survey. But I didn't go and look at it. There was a fair amount of small traffic using it. Why?'

'If we get to Kodowa and this damned war has started, you're right in saying that we can't turn back to the coast. But I'm not happy about going on to Bir Oassa either. There's nothing up there that isn't brought in: no food supplies, no water -'

'Not even fuel,' he said with a wry smile. 'It's all crude.'

'Exactly. The desert is a godawful place to be stranded in. And if the rebels have the airfield, they won't simply let us fly out. They'll hold all personnel in what the press calls a hostage situation. So I don't think we want to go there, do you?'

He looked at me in horror. All his careful plans were being overturned, and now here I was about to suggest the whackiest scheme imaginable.

'You want me to take a three hundred ton load on a multi-artic trailer over an unsurveyed route into the depths of nowhere? What for, for God's sake?' he asked.

'Look at the road going west. It goes back towards the rainforest. There are several villages, lots of chances to find food and water. And fuel, both gas and diesel. It may not be a good road, but it exists. At the Katali it follows the water course down to Lasulu and the coast. I saw the beginning of that road beyond Lasulu and it wasn't too bad. We would meet the river here – at Lake Pirie.' It wasn't really a lake but a considerable widening of the river. 'There's even a moderately sized town there, Fort Pirie, as big as Kodowa apparently.'

'Yes, I see all that. I take your point about the food, and water, and possibly fuel. But there's something else, isn't there?'

'Yes indeed. There's Manzu.'

'The Republic of Manzu? But we can't get there by crossing the river with the rig. There's no bridge. And it's another country, Neil. We don't have the necessary papers to enter. We've got no business with Manzu.'

I felt a wave of exasperation. 'Basil, use your head! If necessary we abandon the rig. Yes, abandon it. I know it's valuable, but the crew matters more. We can get them across the river, and they're safe in a neutral country. And as refugees, and whites at that, we'll get plenty of help and plenty of publicity. I bet nobody would dare touch the rig or the rest of the convoy with a bargepole; they'd be valuable assets for negotiations to either side.'

Actually I didn't believe this myself. I thought that without our expertise to handle it the rig, abandoned in the rainforest, would be so much junk and treated as such by all parties. But I had to convince Kemp to see things my way. I knew what the priorities were, and they didn't include taking a team of men into the desert to become hostages to either side in a shooting war. Or food for the vultures either..

'I'll have to think about it.'

'Naturally. There's a lot we need to know. But keep it in mind. Nothing will happen until we get to Kodowa, and we're not there yet. And by then the whole picture may have changed.'

'Right you are. Can we get back to here and now, please? Are you staying with us?'

'I sure am. I'd hate to try and drive back to the coast without knowing what's going on there. When do you plan, to get started?'

'Immediately. We should get to Kodowa tomorrow morning. I won't stop too close to the town, though, not in these circumstances. Will you ride with me in the Land Rover? We can plan as we go. I'll get someone else to bring your car.'

A little later we were on the move once more. Rumbling along in the dust, the rig and its attendants were left behind as we set off to find out what was happening in Kodowa. Yesterday Kemp had expected to be buying fresh fruit and vegetables in the marketplace; today his expectations were entirely different.

CHAPTER 8

As Kemp pulled ahead of the convoy I saw with approval that two of Sadiq's motorcyclists shot past us and then slowed down, holding their distance ahead, one at about a quarter of a mile, one at half a mile. Kemp drove fairly slowly, carefully scrutinizing the road surface and checking the bends. Once or twice he spoke over the car phone to the rig but otherwise we drove in silence for some time. He was deeply preoccupied.

After we had gone a dozen miles or so he said, 'I've been thinking.'

The words had an ominous ring.

'Pull over and let's talk.'

He asked me to flesh out the political situation and I added my speculations concerning the Air Force and Sadiq's attitude. I sensed his growing truculence, but when the reason for it finally surfaced I was dismayed. If I had thought of John Sutherland as lacking in imagination he shrank into insignificance beside Kemp.

'I don't think much of all this,' he said. 'There's not one solid bit of evidence that any of it is happening.'

'A while ago back up the road there was a guy who wanted to shoot up the convoy,' I said. 'What do you call that?'

'All they did was threaten, get excited. They may well have been on exercises. The jets that came over – we've seen others before. I'm not sure I believe any of this, Neil. And that army detachment is way ahead of us by now.'

'How do you know? They may have stopped round the next corner. And there are others, not all necessarily as friendly.' But I knew I wasn't getting through to him. Something had set his opinions in concrete, and I had to find out what it was and chip it out fast.

I said, 'As soon as we get to Kodowa I'm going to have a. try at getting back to Port Luard. I may be able to get a plane, or at least an army escort. I want to get the gen from headquarters, and not on the air. Before I go I'll want the names of every man you've got with you.' I took out a notebook and pen. Kemp looked at me as if I were going crazy.

'Why do you want to know that?'

I noticed he didn't query my intention to return to base. Perhaps he'd be pleased to see the back of me. 'Just tell me,' I said.

'I insist on knowing why.'

I thought it wise to be brutal.

'To tell their next of kin, and the company, if they get killed. That goes for you too, of course.'

'My God! You're taking this seriously!'

'Of course I am. It is serious, and I think you know it. Let's have those names.'

He was reluctant but complied. 'There's Ben Hammond; the drivers are McGrath, Jones, Graf ton and Lang. Bert Proctor, on rig maintenance with Ben. Two boys on the airlift truck, Sisley and Pitman – both Bob, by the way. Thorpe, who came with you. Burke and Wilson. In the commissary truck we've got Bishop and young Sandy Bing. Fourteen with me. I don't know their addresses.' This last was said sarcastically but I treated it as a straight fact.

'No, we can get those from head office if necessary. You might want to write a message for me to take back to Wingstead – assuming I get back.'

'You really mean to try? It could be -'

'Dangerous? But I thought you said there wasn't any danger?'

He fiddled with the car keys. 'I'm not totally stupid, Mannix. Of course I realize there could be trouble. But your plan -'

At last we were getting to the root of his problem. Something about my hastily formulated escape plan had touched a nerve, and now I could guess what it was. 'I'll leave you a written letter too, if you like. If there is danger and the rig looks like holding up any chances of your all getting clear, you're to abandon it immediately.'

I had guessed right. His face became set and stubborn. 'Hold on a minute. That's the whole thing. I'm not abandoning this job or the rig just on your say-so, or for any damned local insurrection. It's got too much of our sweat in it.'

I looked at him coldly. 'If you're the kind of man who would trade a pile of scrap metal for lives you can consider yourself fired as of now.'