Gavin Lyall - Judas Country

'Oh Jesus, no.' But of course I was interested, though I'd far rather have sealed boxes than heaps of handguns littering up the aircraft.

I said: 'Well… just one. Only one.'

He grinned and picked up my penknife.

Why should I have been surprised that the next box had two French sub-machine guns and nine revolvers? Plus the usual minimum of ammunition, the whole weighing – I was sure -just 50 Ibs. The revolvers weren't all the same type, of course: Colts, Smiths, a single Luger and two J. P.Sauers. Add that to automatics by Colt,Walther, SIG of Switzerland, Beretta, Browning and M AB, and you had Christmas in Dallas when everyone's opened their presents.

Ken said slowly: 'I thought bringing those M3's down here was daft, butthis dolly-mixture… there's eight calibres of ammo here and nine boxes yet to open. Even a guerrilla group needs some sort of standardisation.'

I said: 'Give me a revolution to run and I'd swap you all the pistols for a few bazookas and Kalashnikov assault rifles.'

'Sure…' He dropped a SIG back on to the seat and rubbed his hands together: they were sticky with gun grease. 'I mean, it doesn't seem as if the supplier's cheated or anything. It's all good stuff, none of the cheap Spanish junk, and just about all of it's new. No more than proof fired, I'd guess. And there'ssome ammo for each type… You'd be better off starting up a shop than a revolution with this.'

Suddenly that made sense. 'Well, why not? We didn't think Jehangir was the revolutionary type anyway, just a middleman. A shop-man.'

'A shop where you buy a gun with just two loads, throw it away after because there's no more ammo?'

'It suits some customers.'

He got up slowly and stretched as far as he could in a crouched position. 'Yes, you forget there must be some non-political pistols out here. You mean banks?"

'The last I heard there were eighty different banks in Beirut and I'm not talking about branches. The hold-up-gun concession on that could be worth having.'

'Yees… if you shoot anybody you've got to sling the gun away anyhow, haven't you? Same way, you don't want to risk a used gun that might tie you to somebody else's killing, so it has to be new stuff. And nothing bigger than a sub-machine gun – you could hide any of it in a car.' He shook his stooped head in admiration. 'Lovely, lovely Mr Jehangir.'

I stood up. 'Let's get it out of sight.' I started shoving guns back into the boxes. 'D'you still want to let Jehangir have this lot?'

'I suppose not. But a hundred and twenty new pieces…' he shook his head again. That'scapital, boy.'

'It's six years in Sand; they wouldn't believewe're loyal Palestinians.'

He started to help me.

I filed a flight plan at the tower and got a provisional okay for when the injunction was lifted. Aziz and his lawyer were still up in the deputy manager's office, probably trying to raise the judge.

Ken and I had another coffee – he'd had to come back to collect his bag and clear customs and so forth – and it got to be seven o'clock. Ken galloped his fingers on the table. 'I should have started smoking again.'

'Try a pipe.' I had one of mine going, after only three matches.

'Any time I want to make the match business rich I'll send them a cheque. You look like the old lamplighter on piece rates.'

I struck another match, then shook it out as Aziz's lawyer and the deputy manager came up.

The lawyer gave us both a nasty look and said in a controlled voice: 'I think it is all arranged.' I don't know how much Aziz had told him, but obviously not all.

The deputy said:'! understand you are not legally represented?'

I nodded.

'In affairs of this sort, an agreement between the lawyers of both sides, saying the case is settled, is usually enough. But I suppose you can agree for yourself… sign here, please.'

I signed something.

'Good. I am happy it is satisfactorily concluded.' He smiled at the lawyer and got a stare of stony hatred in return. A bad loser, that man – though that probably made him a good lawyer, of course.

I got on to my feet. 'Thank Monsieur Aziz for us, please. And tell him that our agreement stands.'

So I got a look of fresh-cut loathing, as well.

It was dark when we got outside again and the field was a maze of grounded stars: the yellow-whites of the runway, the greens of the threshold, the dim blues of the taxiways and occasional red obstruction warnings. And back and beyond, the rich windows of Eeii Mery and the other hilltops twinkled lazily in the rising air.

It had turned busy, too; the air was full of burnt paraffin and the heaving roar of taxiing jets. We kept close to the buildings: it's when you get noise all around you that you can walk into something, though there aren't as many spinning propellers as once, thank God.

I left the Queen Air's door open so I could go out and check the navigation lights, turned them on, let Ken finish off the cockpit check while I put the straps back around the champagne boxes.

I felt, rather than heard, the first foot on the steps. Before I could move, lanni was up and inside, grinning from a fighting crouch that was more from choice than the height of the cabin. I backed off a step and turned sideways to keep my chin to myself.

More scuffling, slower this time, and the aircraft tilted a little as lehangir came aboard. A slim automatic glinted in the dull cabin light.

'Good evening,' he said calmly. 'Are we ready to start unloading?'

More swaying and a third person stuck a sharp moustached face around the edge of the doorway. Beneath it was a customs uniform.

I said: 'Monsieur Aziz won't like it.'

'No-' he shook his head firmly '-that's done with. I tried to ring him, only to find he was here at the airport. So I realised you must have rung him yourself. And I hurried down.' Pausing only to change out of the pink rig into dark trousers and shirt, a short dark jacket. The total effect was almost black -maybe intentionally.

He leant a forearm on the rear seat back and pointed the gun across it. 'How, by the way, did you persuade Aziz to lift the order?'

Over my shoulder, Ken said: Truth. Faith moves mountains but truth moves financiers.' He was close behind me and I hoped he'd remember where he was – in a small, fragile aeroplane -before he started a gunfight. Also where I was, of course.

'Ah,' Jehangir smiled. 'I really didn't need Aziz poking into my business.'

I said: 'Your name didn't come into it. Yet.'

'Well… Now let's get on with it. Stand aside, please.'

I turned, stared hard at Ken, and sat down in a seat facing forward at the stacked boxes. Ken shrugged briefly and sat on the other side of the gangway.

Janni came forward, undid the straps, and hunched his way aft with a box. He dumped it in the doorway, came back for another. A third. The aeroplane settled a little on the main wheels.

'Three is one-fifty pounds,' Ken said softly, 'and two blokes back there is another three hundred and Janni must be nearly two hundred himself. Six-fifty already. One more?'

'Could be two. Mind if I go first?'

'I was going to suggest it.'

Janni came forward and lifted the next box, then spotted that it had been opened and called to his boss. Jehangir took a step forward and peered.

'Oh dear, so you had to get inquisitive.' He glanced back at his tame customs officer.

I said: 'We did say it was the truth that moved Monsieur Aziz.'

Jehangir suddenly chuckled. 'I wish I could have seen that little prig's expression. Never mind. A diligent customs officer would obviously open some for a random check. Janni! '

He stepped back and Janni moved past us with the box. As he went the aeroplane tilted up behind him like a seesaw.700 pounds aft of the centre of the main wheels and nothing ahead of it was just too much. The nosewheel lifted and the tail headed for the tarmac.