in front of the corrugated tin building that was the Luanda terminal, they saw waiting for them—in addition to the khaki-uniformed Portuguese customs officials—a civilian, obviously American, wearing a seersucker suit, a necktie, and a natty straw hat.
Canidy climbed down the ladder and approached him.
“I’m Canidy,” Canidy said. “I presume you’re from the consulate?”
The man gave him his hand. The handshake was perfunctory.
“My name is Spiers,” the man said, “Ronald I. Spiers, and I’m the United States Consul General for Angola.”
“Have you any word on what happened to the other plane?” Canidy asked.
Ronald I. Spiers ignored the question. “Excuse me, but you’ll understand the necessity of this,” he said. “Do you have any identification?”
“Who the hell else do you think would be flying that airplane?” Jim Whittaker asked.
He looks and talks like Baker, Canidy thought.
They must have a mold somewhere where they turn them out like Hershey bars, each one just like every other one. And how did you fuck up, Mr. United States Consul General, to get stuck in an asshole of the world like this?
“One never knows, does one?” Spiers said.
Canidy handed over his AGO card. Spiers examined it and passed it back.
“There has been no word on the other aircraft,” he said.
“Shit!” Canidy said.
“Goddamn it!” Whittaker said.
Spiers looked at them with distaste. Then he opened his briefcase and took from it an envelope stamped “Top Secret.” He opened it and took out a single sheet of paper and handed it to Canidy.
URGENT
DEPTSTATE WASHINGTON
VIA MACKAY
FOR USEMBASSY JOHANNESBURG SOUTH AFRICA
EYES ONLY AMBASSADOR
DIRECTION SECSTATE RELAY FOLLOWING US CONSUL GENERAL LUANDA BEST POSSIBLE MEANS INCLUDING COURIER STOP REPORT DELIVERY RADIO STOP QUOTE DIRECTION SECSTATE RELAY TO STANLEY S FINE ABOARD CHINA AIR TRANSPORT C-46 AIRCRAFT SCHEDULED REFUEL LUANDA 19 AUGUST STOP IF UNABLE ARRIVE CARGO LOADING POINT FOUR HOURS PRIOR DAYBREAK 21 AUGUST ABORT MISSION PROCEED CAPETOWN SOUTH AFRICA STOP CANNOT OVEREMPHASIZE IMPORTANCE OF CARGO PICKUP STOP SIGNATURE CHENOWITH STOP END MESSAGE
“Inasmuch as we must presume the other aircraft has been lost,” Spiers said, emotionless, “I thought I should make the contents of the cable known to you.”
Canidy handed the cable to Whittaker.
“You should have no problem,” Spiers said. “I have arranged for your aircraft to be refueled. That should take no more than an hour. You can arrive in Kolwezi in plenty of time to load your cargo and depart within that time frame.”
“We’ll take off about half past seven tonight,” Canidy said. “That should put us over the border at half past eight. By then it should be dark.”
“I’d really rather you continue on with this mission just as soon as you could,” Spiers said.
“You would?” Canidy asked dryly.
“I was led to believe that the aircraft would bear civilian markings,” Spiers said. “There is liable to be trouble with the Portuguese authorities over a military aircraft.”
“Well, you’ll just have to handle the Portuguese,” Canidy said.
“I’m afraid I must insist,” Spiers said.
“I have no intention of flying an aircraft with ‘US Navy’ painted in large letters on the wings over the Belgian Congo in the daylight,” Canidy said.
“I hadn’t considered that,” Spiers said. “It will make things difficult for me, but I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Canidy said. If Spiers detected the sarcasm, he gave no sign.
“Is there someplace we can get something to eat, and maybe some sleep?” Canidy asked.
“Do you think that’s wise?” Spiers asked.
“The eating or the sleeping?” Whittaker asked innocently.
Spiers could not ignore the sarcasm.
“There is a hotel in town,” he said. “I’ll take you there.”
The hotel rooms were dirty, and none of them could read the menu in the dining room. Whittaker solved the problem by flapping his arms and making sounds like a rooster. Soon they were served a large platter of scrambled eggs and a large loaf of freshly baked, very good bread.
The mosquito netting over the beds had holes through which a variety of winged insects flew with ease. Although he remembered being bitten only once or twice, when Canidy splashed water on his face and looked in the mirror, he saw at least a dozen round, angry insect bites.
He found that Whittaker had suffered equally when he met him in the lobby. But when he went to wake the night engineer, the room was empty. Spiers had already joined Whittaker by the time Canidy returned to the lobby.
“Where do you think he is?” he asked.
“He’s around town somewhere,” Canidy said. “He’s going to wait until we take off and then reappear, all apologies for having missed the