have to admit, you did stop the mutiny. Those were hairy times.
“And I know, Joseph, for we talked about it then, that it was only with the greatest reluctance that you became involved in the trouble between Kasavubu and Lumumba; you would have preferred to hold yourself and the Army distant from dirty politics.”
“Lumumba proved incapable of governing,” Mobutu said. “I was forced to chose between them, for the good of the Congo.”
“Seizing control of the government for Kasavubu was something you had to do,” Captain Portet said. “And history will record that as soon as you could, you gave the government back to the people.”
“I did not want to be secretary of state for national defense,” Mobutu said, “that was thrust upon me. I tried to tell Lumumba that Moise Tshombe was a Communist, but he wouldn’t listen,” Mobutu added righteously.
“The damage he has done to the Congo is by no means over,” Captain Portet said. “He let the noses of the Russian and Chinese camels under the flap of the tent.”
“I will meet fire with fire if they try something like that again,” Mobutu said. “The Congolese Army is now prepared to defend the Congo against any enemy.”
Does he believe that? Christ, I hope not.
He’s liable to decide the way to prove to Lunsford that he’s in charge and that every day, in every way, everything’s getting better and better is to refuse to let us send the teams in.
“Joseph,” Captain Portet said, “I didn’t mean to get into all this again.”
Mobutu waved a hand to show he understood.
“What I wanted to do was tell you that, in my own way, I am going to do what you did. My country has asked for my help, and I see it as my duty to do what I can.”
“What will you be doing?” Mobutu asked, almost impatiently.
Dad could have spent all afternoon here letting Lunsford know what a great man Joseph Désiré Mobutu is, and Mobutu would have loved every second of it.
“The war in Vietnam is growing larger by the day,” Portet said. “They need my help in setting up an air operation, passenger and freight, to augment the Air Force, which isn’t large enough to handle the job itself.”
“It was large enough to send a fleet of transports to Stanleyville, ” Mobutu said.
“And doing so is what taught them they need a supplemental air fleet, and now.”
“When will you be going? And for how long?”
“Almost immediately,” Portet said, “and for at least a year.”
Mobutu didn’t reply.
“Which is going to pose problems for Air Simba,” Portet went on. “I’m going to have to find someone to manage it, and I have even been thinking of putting it up for sale.”
Mobutu looked at him.
“I can think of someone to manage it,” he said. “And if you’re not asking too much, perhaps I can even come up with a group to take it off your hands.”
“I would be grateful if you could, Joseph,” Captain Portet said.
“Nonsense, Jean-Philippe,” Mobutu said. “We have been friends for a long time. Friends help one another, no?”
Particularly, Jack thought, unkindly, when the helper, in helping the helpee, gets to buy something like Air Simba at a distress price, less fifty percent.
And then he remembered what had happened in the casino in Baden-Baden just before he’d gotten his draft notice. His parents had been on vacation there, and he’d had a forty-eight-hour lay-over in Brussels and he’d driven down to join them.
After an initial run of luck playing vingt-et-un, he’d drawn a king to a ten and a two, and gone bust. He had gone through not only the money he had had in his pocket but two monthly pay-checks from Air Simba.
When he stood up and turned from the table, his father had been standing behind him. He had been so concentrated on the cards that he hadn’t been aware of it.
“Been there long?” he’d asked.
“Long enough,” his father had said, and handed him a drink of scotch. “I thought you probably would need this.”
“To precede a lecture on the price of gambling?”
“Hey, not only wasn’t I dealing the cards, or holding you down in your chair, but you’re a big boy now. If you want to go bust trying to break the bank at Baden-Baden, that’s your business. ”
“Sorry, Dad,” he’d said, genuinely contrite. “I don’t like making an ass of myself with people—especially you—watching.”
“You want to know what you did wrong?” his father had asked.
“Gamble?”
“There’s nothing wrong with gambling—life is a gamble. But