Finally she replied, “Oh, I’m just an administrative officer for relief supplies.” She shrugged her shoulders, “Logistics and such. Nothing very interesting.” Her right arm reached across her body and rubbed her left arm.
Bullshit, thought Court. Gennady, on the other hand, seemed eased by her air of nonchalance.
“Yes. Well, we bring oil equipment into Darfur,” the pilot said as the Egyptian waiter brought steaming cups of tea to the table.
Court wasn’t satisfied with Gennady’s answer; he’d much prefer he’d said it was none of her business. But at least he didn’t say he was schlepping in tons of belt-fed machine guns and ammo.
The woman seemed perplexed, and Gentry’s built-in trouble meter flickered higher up the dial.
“I see,” she said, but her body language indicated that she did not. A micro-expression on her face revealed excitement, not confusion. “I would have thought the Chinese would use their own equipment.”
“The Chinese? Why are you speaking of the Chinese? We Russians are experts in oil. Much oil in Siberia,” Gennady said with a smile that he likely thought was sexy.
Court’s research of the Sudan and the oil situation during the last two weeks afforded him with knowledge that, obviously, this Ellen Walsh woman would also have. The Chinese had control over all the oil exploration sites in the Darfur region. It was clear that Gennady did not know this.
“Oh.” She feigned surprise, but Court picked up clues that she recognized that the Russian pilot was lying to her about the cargo. She let it go and began spooning dingy gray sugar into her tea even as the waiter placed it in front of her.
Was her hand trembling?
“Why are you in Al Fashir?” Gennady asked.
She hesitated, again reaching a hand across her body to rub her other arm, both covering herself and comforting herself with the action. Obvious tells of anxiety and deception to a trained body language expert such as the Gray Man.
“I came out to survey the Zam Zam IDP camp. Unfortunately, my staff didn’t have all my documents and permissions in order, so they won’t let me out of the airport. I’m really desperate for a ride out of here.” She looked at the pilot again, and he back at her. He raised his eyebrows suggestively but did not offer her a seat on his aircraft.
Gennady said nothing.
“Have you been to Darfur before?”
“Yes,” the pilot answered cockily. “Many times.”
The woman nodded, still smiling. “It’s horrible out here. Four hundred fifty thousand murdered in the past eight years, and no end in sight. Millions more in the camps, either here or over the border in Chad.”
“Da,” said Gennady. “War is very bad.”
Court wanted to reach across the table and slap the insincerity off his face.
After a few seconds Ellen said, “That plane of yours is awesome. It’s an Ilyushin, isn’t it? Looks like some we have in our inventory.” Quickly she added, “I ship a lot of cargo in my job, though I’ve never actually been in a cargo plane.”
“It is an Ilyushin. An excellent Russian aircraft,” said Gennady, and Walsh nodded along with him, seeming to fawn all over his words.
“Here is some pilot trivia for you,” Ellen said with an excited smile. “Did you know Amelia Earhart landed here at Al Fashir on her attempt to circle the globe?”
Gennady cocked his head a little. “Who?”
“Amelia Earhart. The female pilot? The famous female pilot who disappeared flying around the world in 1937.”
Gennady just looked at her.
“Surely you have heard—”
“I have never heard of this woman, but I am not surprised she disappeared. Women do not make good pilots,” he said, as if this were the most basic fact of aeronautics. A dismissive wave of his hand and a loud slurp of tea followed his comment. Court caught the woman dropping her veil of admiration for the Russian man and revealing her true feelings of disgust.
But the veil rose again almost instantly.
“Well, I’ve heard great things about Russian aircraft. And the Ilyushin. Our UN planes do the job, but they are a bit boring. Do you think I could possibly get a closer look at your beautiful plane? Don’t worry, I won’t try to fly it. I’d probably just disappear.”
Her smile was wide, friendly, and, Court recognized, a total sham.
Gennady just smiled back at her a long time without answering. He gave his shoulders a shrug, but it was a shrug that indicated anything was possible.
Some of the other Russians asked her questions in broken English.