Dennis Wheatley - The Secret War

She shook her head. `No. I can't leave Christopher or you. When I think of my darling Count Dolomenchi and that nice young Abyssinian who was here just now, too, I am more certain than ever that anyone like Zirrif, who deliberately pulls the wires to make them wish to cut each other's throats, deserves death a hundred times. I'm just tired that's all. When I've rested for a bit I'll feel better.'

He realised that her affectionate mention of the Count implied no more than friendship, but all the same, a she made it, Lovelace was conscious of a little twinge of jealousy. She stood up and, as he watched her leave the room, he checked his thoughts sharply. He knew he had no right to think of her that way at all. She was Christopher's. Yet he wished, as he had never wished for anything in his life before, that she were free so that he could tell her how much he loved her.

That evening a car with two special guards picked them up and ran them out to the United States Legation. It was some way from the centre of the town and, like those of the other nations, stood in a fine, walled, private park on land which the Emperor had generously presented for the purpose.

Rudy Connolly received them with shouts of joy and introduced them to his colleagues. For Christopher and Valerie it was grand to find themselves among their own people again, and Lovelace was made equally welcome. It would have been a thoroughly delightful evening if each of them had not had to act a part and endeavour to conceal their secret anxieties.

They posed as tourists who, being in Egypt, had just flown up for a few days out of curiosity, to see Addis now that it played such a prominent part in the world's news.

When Christopher cornered Connolly after dinner, the diplomat said that, of course, he knew Paxito Zirrif by reputation, but he had heard nothing of his being in Addis. So far, inquiries among his friends had proved fruitless, but native spies had been put on the job and perhaps some information might come in the following day.

Connolly showed some professional reticence in speaking about the war. He admitted to knowing that the Italians were actually in Dessye, although the Abyssinians refused to acknowledge it; and said that as far as their own information went, the Emperor was with his troops somewhere between Addis and his old headquarters. Fresh levies were still moving through from the far west to his support, and it was thought that he would hold up the Italians at a point where the road dipped suddenly from the terrific heights of the Abyssinian central ranges to the fringe of the plains bordering the Danakil country.

`Are there any landing places for aeroplanes on the Dessye road?' Christopher asked.

Connolly stared at him in surprise. `Good Lord, no! but why?'

`I'd like to go there. See a little of the fighting.`

`I wouldn't try it if I were you. They won't let you, anyway, without a pass, and I don't think they'd grant you one for a second. The front's somewhere out there now, and they wouldn't even let a single newspaper man go within a hundred miles of the actual operations.'

`Never mind. Say I could get a pass,' Christopher went on doggedly. `How long would it take me to get there by road?'

'You could reach Dessye itself, if the road were open all the way, in about three days. That is, if the weather remains as it is at the moment, and given a good stout lorry with plenty of hired men to pull it out of the gulley’s whenever it gets stuck. If the weather breaks, as it may now at any time, you might be ten days on the road, and once the rains have really set in it becomes quite impassable. Honestly, you'd be mad to attempt it. Even if you could get a pass and managed to get to the front all right, as the rains are due, you'd be caught there and unable to get back.'

`Thanks,' said Christopher. `I was only asking out of curiosity,' and he turned the conversation into other channels.

When they were back in the hotel Christopher faced the others just as they were sitting down to a night cap in their private room.

'Look here. I've thought it all out. Nobody but the Emperor can sign that concession, and he's still at the front; somewhere down the Dessye road. Zirrif must be with him at his new headquarters or on his way there. These Abyssinian officials are bribable, you say. Well, I don't care what it costs, but we've got to get a pass and reach the Emperor so that we're on hand to deal with Zirrif when he tries to do his stuff.'

`But we can't use the plane for that,' exclaimed Lovelace, `and to talk of covering a hundred miles of this ghastly country in two days any other way is sheer madness.'

I don't care,' Christopher said tersely. 'I'll buy a dozen lorries and leave each one as it gets stuck for another of the convoy, offering a big reward to the driver who gets through first. It's got to be done'

21

The flowering of the passion vine

Lovelace had warned the others that Blatta Ingida Yohannes would probably call for them at some godless hour next morning to take them sight seeing. They were not surprised, therefore, to be knocked up at half past five, but, when they met an hour later at breakfast, Valerie complained bitterly.

`Yes, filthy practice, isn't it?' Lovelace agreed. `But early rising is the custom here. The Emperor always holds his first Cabinet Meeting of the day at five o'clock, except when he has to propitiate his fanatical priesthood by being in church.'

`We've got such a lot to do, and such a devil of a long way to go, we need every moment,' Christopher said shortly. `These extra hours may prove invaluable.'

`You mean to tackle Yohannes about a pass as soon as he turns up?' Lovelace asked.

`Yes, and if he can't give us one I'll bribe my way up from him to the fellow who can. Will you see about getting the lorries and staff for the journey? Don't spare money. I've got plenty. I brought it in case of just such an emergency as this.'

`Here comes the young man,' cut in Valerie.

Lovelace glanced over his shoulder. `By Jove ! you're right, and he's only half an hour late. That's the height of punctuality for an Abyssinian.'

The young, Europeanized native came hurrying towards them across the dinning room, a happy smile on his coffee coloured countenance. He seemed bubbling over with some secret excitement which he found it hard to contain.

After greetings had been exchanged, Christopher came out with his request at once. `Look here, I understand we have to get a pass to motor out towards Dessye; but I want one, Can you fix it for us?'

Yohannes gave him a quick furtive look. 'Why should you wish to go there?'

'To see something of the front.'

The Abyssinian shook his head. 'That is impossible. It is forbidden.'

Christopher hedged cleverly. `Well, it's not exactly the front we're interested in, but the Emperor. We're all tremendous admirers of the Emperor, and I'd pay a very high price indeed for the privilege of being allowed to offer him my sympathy in his troubles.'

'Behold, then! your wish shall be granted.' Blatta Ingida Yohannes spread out his thin hands and began to laugh uproariously. `I have just come from the Emperor. He returned last night from the front.'

The reason for the young man's suppressed excitement was immediately apparent. Lovelace thanked his gods that they were to be spared the journey. For Christopher it was something of an anti climax, but he was quick to realise the reason of the Emperor's return; he had come back to keep his appointment with Zirrif on the first of May. That meant that Zirrif was in Addis after all, or would certainly be there by the following day. Valerie, with the same thought in her mind, asked; `Why has the Emperor returned so unexpectedly?'

'Because the rains, which are expected so soon now, will put a stop to the fighting. He has summoned a council of his Rases for the day after tomorrow, doubtless to make arrangements for securing further supplies of munitions and training new bodies of troops through the rainy season. Directly he has a moment he will receive you. He has said so. In the meantime it is his wish that I should show you everything. Come! let us go,