The Miernik Dossier - Charles McCarry [81]
75. REPORT BY COLLINS.
We arrived at the palace of the Amir of Khatar shortly before dawn on 11th July after a twenty-four-hour drive through the desert. It was a nervous journey, but there were no incidents. After the events at Kashgil we kept weapons at hand, and during our one stop (at En Nahud to take on water and petrol) we attracted a certain amount of attention. A small crowd gathered to inspect the bullet holes in the cars and to gaze upon Ilona Bentley and Zofia Miernik in their shorts. We had submachine guns slung round our necks and I expected the local police to make inquiries (after all, there were four dead bodies behind us in that dry wadi). But none was forthcoming. Prince Kalash was recognized by all who passed by, and he spent a good deal of time exchanging blessings in Arabic.
2. The Amir’s palace lies some distance from El Fasher, on a high hill above the Wadi el Ku. It has rained recently in the mountains and the wadi is more or less full of water. I mention this because we had to tow the Cadillac across several brackish streams, using the Land Rover and a cable. The motor got wet and we lost an hour drying off the wiring and the sparking-plugs with bits of cloth. Even though we were stopped in territory controlled by his father, Prince Kalash insisted on working in the dark while Miernik and Christopher stood guard with Sten guns. He has become altogether less careless since the attack. We travelled without headlamps, steering by moonlight. Since the last stage of the journey was made along steep mountainsides on narrow rubble roads, there was a certain amount of risk. I was interested that even this did not rouse Miernik from his torpor. Since the shooting affair he has been very subdued. He sat silently in a corner of the rear seat, fingering his Sten gun and staring into the night; ordinarily he would have been gasping and giving warnings to the driver.
3. The palace is a vast structure; portions of it appear to have been cut from the living rock of the mountainside. We arrived in the gray false light of five o’clock. The cold air stung the bare skin. All round were the outlines of the mountains, like a drawing in ink. Kalash shattered the quiet by pounding on a thick door. A voice issued from a window and Prince Kalash answered with his name. A yellow light was carried past a whole row of windows and the door swung open. In the doorway, with a lamp in his upraised hand, was a very large man down on his knees. I suppose he was a slave. He said something in Arabic in a peculiar singsong voice, and Prince Kalash responded. The big man shuffled away, still on his knees, and came back a few moments later with a veiled woman. She stood upright in Prince Kalash’s presence, but recoiled at her first sight of Ilona and Zofia, whose bare legs shone in the lamplight. To the girls Prince Kalash said, “This woman will show you to your rooms. She’ll bring you food and arrange for a bath before you sleep. I recommend you to put on ordinary clothes before you come down tomorrow. We aren’t used to bare legs in this house. I’m afraid we won’t see a great deal of you. You’ll be expected to remain in your end of the house and to eat with the women, unless of course you want to dine alone. Don’t wander about. I’ll send someone for you tomorrow and perhaps we can see a bit of the country.” Ilona grinned. “Kalash,” she said, “are you locking us up in the harem? Has all this been a plot to lure us into Arab slavery?” Prince Kalash waved her away with no hint of his usual good humour. “My dear Ilona,” he said, “just go with the woman and try to behave yourself. You can keep your pistol if you fear for your virtue.” Ilona removed the pistol from her camera case and handed it to Kalash. She and Zofia, with their faces looking back at us over their shoulders, followed the Sudanese woman into the dark interior of the palace.
4. Miernik, Christopher,