Inside the hotel, he took in the decor and thought to himself, how typical that yet another Moroccan establishment had tried to model itself on Rick’s café and Bar, the fictional emporium of Humphrey Bogart’s character in the classic film Casablanca. The hotel where he was staying had similar designs, with white panelled walls, soft lighting, silk drapes and a scattering of small potted palm trees.
From his slatted wooden desk, the concierge acknowledged the man in the tropical beige suit. ‘Good afternoon, monsieur. How can I be of some assistance?’
Everard nodded. ‘I have a meeting with David Reynolds, he’s a British gentleman.’
In instant recognition, the concierge nodded and pointed to a section at the far side that had a latticed screen. Everard followed the man’s arm and thanking him, flung his jacket over his shoulder and walked towards it.
Behind the screen, three men were already watching him as he approached. A big man with short, curly blond hair stood up to greet him. Everard hesitated, then smiled at him.
‘Are you Reynolds?’
The man nodded, holding out a hand. ‘From your mid-west drawl, I take it you must be Everard,’ quipped Reynolds. ‘Please, take a seat.’
Everard shook his hand and sat down. ‘Pleased to meet you. Although, I don’t know how you guys take this heat. Everywhere is like being in a dammed furnace!’
Reynolds smiled. ‘You get used to it, after a while.’
Everard took some time to study him. He already knew Reynolds was a former SAS sergeant, now in charge of a mercenary unit. A unit that had seen a lot of action recently, especially in the Congo.
The Englishman introduced the others. One was ex-French foreign legion, Jacques Daffaut. He was to Reynolds what was termed in military parlance, 2-I–C (second in command). The other man was another Englishman. Mick Morris was also ex-special air service, and over the years had seen plenty of action as part of the big man’s platoon.
Reynolds offered the American a bottle of cold beer, which was gladly taken. ‘So, Mr Everard, I take it that from your phone call and now your presence here, you do want our services?’
Although this was their first meeting, Everard had previously been in contact with Reynolds’ handling-man in London. ‘I have been asked by my boss to offer a contract to you and your men. Shall we say twenty-five thousand, before the operation, then another fifty, if conditions are met?’
Reynolds glanced at the other two men then reached into a white bowl and picked up a handful of peanuts. ‘And what conditions might they be, Mr Everard? Must be something big, if your boss is offering us seventy-five grand to do this particular job.’
Everard shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. ‘That Turkey get a piece of Cyprus, a big piece. In fact, a full partition of the island.’
Reynolds gasped. ‘So, it’s the Aphrodite isle, then?’
Everard just nodded at Reynolds’ reference.
Reynolds took a swig from his bottle to wash down the peanuts. ‘And, if we do this, you can guarantee to me now, there will be no risk to Brit and UNICYP forces? There’s a bloody conflict going on at the moment, you know. In the height of combat ops, things get muddled, blue on blue, that sort of thing.’
Everard understood. ‘You have my word and the word of my boss, there will be no engagement with the Brits or UN forces on the island.’ He reached into his jacket to pull out an envelope, then placing it on the table, pushed it to Reynolds. ‘It’s all here. Our intel has checked and double-checked that the enclave contains only a group of EOKA B terrorists. I can assure you, the nearest Brit or UN outpost is five miles from it. It should be a turkey-shoot for you guys. Just remember that the deal is no survivors.’
Reynolds opened the envelope, took out the contents and scanned them. He then turned to his men, passing them the papers. After a few moments, both nodded their approval.
Reynolds grinned at the American. ‘Looks like we have a deal, Mr Everard. The little shopping list Harvey gave you in London… I expect that everything on it will be catered for?’
Everard nodded. ‘Don’t worry, everything has been arranged, and will be waiting for you at a berth in the port of Limassol, in ten days. All you have to do is get yourselves there.’
Daffaut leaned forward, staring the American directly in the eyes. ‘And what about transport, Mr Everard?’
The American grinned. ‘What do you need? More crazy-looking coloured jeeps like the one outside? I take it, that ladies’ love-wagon belongs to you guys?’
Reynolds cut him a cold glance, slamming his hand down on the table. ‘Don’t ever go calling my pinkie a bloody ‘jeep’ again, Mr Everard. That vehicle out there, is no transport for a lady. That fine piece of British-built engineering saved my life, and those of four of my men, on an operation out in the desert a few years ago. So please, do not insult me, or my vehicle, by classing it as that pathetic Yankee excuse for a combat vehicle that you fairies drive about in! The pink panther out there and I have a sort of bond — if you get my meaning?’
Everard gulped, raising his hands in front of him in mock surrender. ‘Okay, Reynolds. Take it easy, no offence intended. So, what will you need for the island?’
Reynolds relaxed again. ‘We will need an off-road vehicle. Nothing flash, but no wrecks either, and we are also going to need some sort of truck to transport the men and the hardware around. Something rugged, but disguised as a commercial of some sort. Maybe a lemon supplier or something else grown on the island… olives, perhaps?’
Everard nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can do and have something waiting for you with the other stuff in Limassol.’ He rose from the table. ‘Okay gentlemen, I’ll leave you guys to your beers and start putting things into action with my boss. You can expect the down-payment in your Swiss account by tomorrow, Mr Reynolds. I will see you in London in a few days, to finalise things.’
As he turned his back on them, Reynolds raised his hand. ‘Oh, one more thing. As there’s a matter of a small bloody war going on over there at the moment, I also want your guarantee that should any of my men go down for keeps, I will be able to get them back here and not leave them behind. And, more importantly, their families will get a compensation payment for their losses. Shall we say, ten for each man? That should see the families right for their futures.’
Everard agreed. ‘I already discussed this with your Mr Harvey. So, you have my guarantee on that Mr Reynolds. I will be in touch to confirm the shipment of hardware.’
The three men watched as the American left the hotel to walk back out into the blazing sunshine.
Reynolds had another look at the documents then turned to his men. ‘Well, drink up guys! Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little job to do.’
They rose from their table, Reynolds waving to the concierge as they scrambled into the pink painted Land Rover. Switching on the ignition, Reynolds gently pulled the vehicle away from the roadside and headed out for their training camp situated in the Draa Valley.
Half a mile from the hotel, Everard walked with a cigarette in his mouth, passing a stall selling items from a local pottery while the seller, dressed in his striped kaftan, bartered with a smartly dressed customer. Suddenly, a cream coloured Mercedes 280S saloon screeched to a halt beside the stall.