Batson advanced. Is that a weapon? Give it to me now.
Casey shifted in his seat, winced, and evidently decided he wasnt going anywhere. He held out his weapon to Batson, butt first. Have you rubes ever seen one of these? Its what we call a skinny-popper. An MP-93, a nine-millimeter submachine gun. German make
Germans, hissed Ruddy. I knew it.
Be careful, or youll stitch your own damn head off. Caseys accent was undoubtedly American, but it sounded coarse to Josh, like a New York City slum dwellers, while the woman sounded British, but with a flat, unfamiliar intonation to her voice.
From her seat the woman bent over Casey. I think your tibia is broken, she said. Crushed under the seat Id sue the manufacturer if I were you.
Up your ass, your majesty, Casey said through gritted teeth.
The woman said now, Can I get out of here?
Batson nodded. He set the submachine gun on the ground, where it gleamed, fascinating, baffling, and stood back, beckoning her. Batson was doing a good job, Josh thought; he kept the three intruders covered with his own weapon, and continually checked the troops around him to make sure all angles were monitored.
The woman had a tough time clambering out of the couch behind the two front seats, but at last she stood on the rocky ground. The second pilot, the Indian, climbed out too. He had the complexion of a sepoy but pale blue eyes and startling blond hair. All the machines crew wore clothing so bulky it masked their forms, making them seem inhuman, and wiry gadgets clung to their faces. I guess it could have been worse, the woman said. I wasnt expecting to walk away from this crash.
The other replied, I guess Casey wont be, for a time. But these birds are designed for worst-case hard landings. Lookthe sensor pod crumpled and absorbed a lot of the shock. The pilot seats are mounted on shock absorbers too, as is your bench. I think the spin sent Caseys seat tipping to the left, and that was what did his leg inhe was unlucky
Batson interrupted. Enough of your bukkin. Whos in charge?
The woman glanced at the others and shrugged. Im the ranker. This is Chief Warrant Officer Abdikadir Omar; in the chopper you see Chief Warrant Officer Casey Othic. Im Lieutenant Bisesa Dutt. British Army, on assignment to United Nations special forces operating out of
Ruddy laughed. By Allah. A lieutenant in the British Army! And shes a babu !
Bisesa Dutt turned and glared at him. To his credit, Josh thought, Ruddy blushed under his Lahore sore. Josh knew that babu was a contemptuous Anglo-Indian term for those educated Indians who aspired to senior positions in the dominions administration.
Bisesa said, We need to get Casey out of there. Do you have doctors? She was putting on a show of strength, Josh thought, admirable given she had just come through an extraordinary crash and was being held at gunpoint. But he sensed a deeper fear.
Batson turned to one of the privates. McKnight, run and fetch Captain Grove.
Right-oh. The private, short and stocky, turned and ran barefoot over the broken ground.
Ruddy nudged Josh. Come, Joshua, we need to be involved! He hurried forward. Maam, pleaselet us help.
Bisesa studied Ruddy, his broad forehead crusted with dust, his beetling eyebrows, his defiant mustache. She was taller than he and she looked down on him with contempt, Josh thoughtthough with an odd puzzlement, a kind of recognition. She said, You? Youll come to the aid of a mere babu ?
Josh stepped forward, his most charming grin fixed in place. You mustnt mind Ruddy, maam. These expatriates have their eccentricities, and the soldiers are too busy holding out their guns at you. Come, lets get on with it. And he strode toward the chopper, rolling up his sleeves.
Abdikadir beckoned to Ruddy and Josh. Help me lift him out. With Abdikadir supporting from the far side, Ruddy got hold of Caseys back, while Josh, cautiously, got his arms under his legs. Another man produced a blanket from somewhere and laid it on the ground. Abdikadir gave them a lead: One, two, three, up. Casey screamed when they raised him off his seat, and again when Josh allowed his damaged leg to brush the frame of the chopper. But in seconds they had Casey out and set on his side on the blanket.
Breathing hard, Josh studied Abdikadir. He was a big man, made bulkier by his uniform, his blue eyes striking. Youre Indian?
Afghan, Abdikadir said evenly. He watched Joshs startled reaction. Actually Im a Pashtun. I take it you dont have too many of us in your army.
Not exactly, Josh said. But then it isnt my army. Abdikadir said nothing more, but Josh had the sense that he knew, or had guessed, more about this strange situation than anybody else.
Private McKnight came running back, breathless. He said to Bisesa and Abdikadir, Captain Grove wants to see the two of you in his office.
Batson nodded. Move.
No, Casey grunted from his blanket. Dont leave the ship. You know the drill, Abdi. Wipe the damn memory. We dont know who these people are
These people , Batson said menacingly, have big guns that are pointing at you. Choop and chel.
Bisesa and Abdikadir seemed confused by Batsons mixture of strong Geordie with bits of Frontier argot, but his meaning was clear enough: shut up and move. I dont think we have a choice right now, Casey, Bisesa said.
And you, chum, Batson said to Casey, are heading for the infirmary. Josh saw Casey was trying to conceal his alarm at this prospect.
Bisesa turned to go with McKnight, escorted by a few more armed privates. Well come find you as soon as we can, Casey.
Yes, Abdikadir called. Dont let them saw anything off in the meantime.
Ha ha, you prick, Casey growled.
Ruddy muttered, It seems that soldiers humor is universal, no matter where they come from.
Josh and Ruddy tried to tag along with Bisesa and Abdikadir, but Batson politely but firmly turned them away.
7. Captain Grove
Bisesa and Abdikadir were walked to the fort they had glimpsed from the air. It turned out to be a box-shaped enclosure surrounded by stout stone walls, with round watchtowers in each corner. It was a substantial base, and evidently well maintained.
But its not on any map I ever saw, Bisesa said tensely. Abdikadir didnt reply.
The walls were manned by soldiers in red coats or khaki jackets. Some even wore kilts. The soldiers all seemed short, wiry, and many had bad teeth and skin infections; they wore kit that was heavily patched and worn. Native or otherwise, the soldiers all stared with open curiosity at Bisesa and Abdikadirand, regarding Bisesa, with undisguised sexual speculation.
No women here, Abdikadir murmured. Dont let it bother you.
I wasnt. Too much had happened to her today, she told herself, for her to allow a few leering troopers in pith helmets and kilts to worry her. But the truth was her stomach churned; it was never good for a woman to be captured.
The heavy gates were open, and carts drawn by mules passed through. What looked like a stripped-down artillery piece was carried on the back of a couple more mules. The mules were driven by Indian trooperswhat Bisesa heard the white soldiers call sepoys .
Inside the fort there was an air of bustle and orderly activity. But, Bisesa thought, what was more remarkable than what was here was what was lacking, such as any kind of motor vehicle, radio antenna or satellite dish.
They were taken into the main central building, and led to a kind of anteroom. Here McKnight issued a blunt order: Strip. His sergeant major, he said, wasnt about to let them into the Captains hallowed presence without a thorough check of what was concealed under their bulky flight suits.
Bisesa forced a grin. I think you just want to take a peek at my butt. She was gratified by the look of genuine shock on McKnights face. Then she start to peel off her layers, starting with her boots.