Eric Ambler - State of Siege

I stepped out on to the terrace.

I could see very clearly. The moon was behind me, shining directly along the terrace. A man was standing on the top of the wall astride the spikes. He was wearing an army steel helmet and a belt of ammunition pouches. As I watched, he bent down and took something handed up to him from below. When he straightened up I saw that it was a Japanese-pattern machine pistol. He held it up for a moment, regaining his balance, then he brought his other leg over the spikes and jumped.

As he landed on the terrace, I moved back into the bedroom. I was confused and scared now, but I had some sense left. I went straight back to the suitcase and dropped the revolver inside it.

“What’s the matter?” Rosalie whispered.

I took her hand and held it tightly, motioning her not to speak. The soldier was walking along the terrace now, not cautiously, but as if he were uncertain of the way. Then, he came into view, the machine pistol held across his body as if he were on patrol. Rosalie started violently and I gripped her tighter. For a moment the man outside stood silhouetted in the moonlight. He looked round and stared at the bedroom window. Rosalie began to tremble. He took a step towards it.

Suddenly, a loud hammering noise came from the living room, and I realised that someone was beating on the outer door of the apartment.

The man on the terrace peered round and then went through the open window into the living room. The door into the bedroom was open and we saw him cross towards the hall. A moment later there was the sound of the bolts of the door being shot back and a murmur of voices. The lights in there went on.

I stood up. My dressing gown was lying on a chair and I tossed it to Rosalie. Then, putting my finger to my lips, to warn her to keep quiet, I walked through into the living room.

There were several voices murmuring in the corridor now. Suddenly, there was a sound of sharp footsteps approaching and the voices were hushed.

A Sundanese voice said: “At your service, Major tuan .”

A moment later, Major Suparto walked into the room.

He did not recognise me at once. His pistol holster was unfastened and his hand went to it quickly. At the same moment he called sharply to the soldiers in the corridor. As he levelled the pistol, two of them ran in through the doorway. They had the long chopping-knives called parangs in their hands, and as soon as they saw me they started forward with a shout.

I had opened my mouth to tell him who I was, but it all happened so quickly that I was still gagging over the words when he yelled to the two men to halt. They were within a yard of me with their parangs raised to strike, and their teeth clenched in the mad killing grimace. Another second and he could not have stopped them hacking me to pieces. As it was, they stood there dazed, their faces gradually regaining a stupid sort of sanity as they lowered their arms.

Suparto came towards me, thrusting them aside.

“What is this?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”

I was so unnerved that it did not occur to me that those should have been my questions. Idiotically, I started to explain about hearing someone climbing on to the terrace. He cut me short.

“The owner of this apartment is in Makassar.”

“I know. He lent it to me.”

He swore, stared at me bitterly for a moment and then motioned to the two soldiers to stand back.

They retreated, awkwardly as if they had been reprimanded. I was coming to my senses again now and realised that there was something unfamiliar about their uniforms. The trousers were of khaki drill, but it was not the same khaki that I had seen on other troops in the city. And both men were wearing a sort of yellow brassard on the left arm. So was Suparto.

“Are you alone?”

“No.”

“Who is here with you?”

“A woman.”

He moved past me swiftly to the bedroom door and went in.

Rosalie stood in the centre of the room. She was turning back the sleeves of my dressing gown. As she swung round to face him, her hands dropped to her sides, but she made no other movement.

“Your name?” he said.

“Rosalie Linden, tuan .”

He turned the light in the bedroom on, then looked from one to the other of us.

“You can see we’re both quite harmless, Major,” I said.

“Possibly. But your presence is inconvenient. Are you armed?”

“There’s a revolver in that case under the bed.”

He looked at Rosalie. “Pull the case out. Do not open it.”

As she obeyed, he called in the N.C.O. and told him to take the revolver. Then he looked at me, his lips tightening.

“Armed men enter your apartment in the middle of the night and steal your property. Yet, you say nothing, you make no protest. Why, Mr. Fraser?”

“The men are wearing uniforms and this is Selampang, not London.”

“You do not even ask questions?”

“That would be a bit pointless, wouldn’t it?”

“Because you think that you already know the answers?”

I knew that it was dangerous to go on pretending to be stupid. I shrugged. “Less than forty-eight hours ago you were in Tangga, Major. You didn’t come here by sea or air and those men outside are not Government troops. I presume then that they are General Sanusi’s, that you are in sympathy with his aims, and that the long-awaited day has arrived. No doubt you’ve taken over the radio station below and will shortly begin broadcasting the good news to the rest of the country. Meanwhile, other troops are occupying the central telegraph office, the telephone exchange, the power station and the railroad station. The main body of your forces is taking up positions surrounding the police barracks, the ammunition dump, the forts defending the outer harbour and the garrison …” I hesitated. I had remembered something.

“Yes, Mr. Fraser?” His face was very still.

“Most of the garrison moved out today on manoeuvres.”

“The moment, of course, has been carefully chosen.”

“Of course. However, I’m a foreigner, and it’s no concern of mine. Now that you’ve satisfied yourself that there is nobody up here who could possibly do anything to interfere, I take it that you will allow us to go back to sleep again.”

He considered me coldly. “I like you, Mr. Fraser,” he said at length; “and I am sorry to see you here. At the moment, however, I am wondering if I have a sufficient excuse for allowing you to remain alive.”

“You need an excuse? We’re no danger to you, for God’s sake!”

“As I have said, your presence is inconvenient.”

“Then let us go somewhere else.”

“I regret that that is impossible.”

I said nothing and looked across at Rosalie. She was still standing by the open suitcase. I went over to her, put my arm round her shoulders and made her sit down on the edge of the bed.

Suparto seemed to hesitate; then he beckoned impatiently to the N.C.O. and nodded in our direction.

“These two persons,” he said, “will remain in this room. Post a sentry on the terrace. They may go one at a time to the bathhouse, but they will go by the window. This door will remain locked. If either attempts to leave without permission, they are both to be killed.”

The N.C.O. saluted and eyed us sullenly.

Suparto looked at me. “You understood what I said?”

“Yes, I understood. May I ask a question?”

“Well?”

“Was I right? Is this part of a coup d’état? ”

“The National Freedom Party of Sunda has taken over all the functions of government and assumed control of the country.”

“That is what I meant.”

“The so-called Democratic Government of the colonialist traitor, Nasjah, has proved unworthy of the people’s confidence.” He was speaking Malay now, and as if he were addressing a public meeting. Behind him, the N.C.O. nodded approvingly. “The guilty will be punished. The Unbelievers will be destroyed. Colonial influences will be eliminated. The Faithful will rally to the standard of Islam. As soon as the emergency is over, elections will be held. But order must be maintained. Hostile elements will be wiped out ruthlessly.”