SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF SUEZ

A Novel

By

Gene C. McCoy

BOOK TWO

CHAPTER 13

Dan stayed up after Liliana left to go home, and after making a pot of strong coffee he sat on the terrace to watch the day break. The storm had cleared the air, and a fresh breeze was blowing off the ocean as he sat looking seaward. It was Thursday morning and they still had three full days before Rita and Carlo returned. Dan expected to make the most of them. If the winds continue, he thought, we might sail up the beach through the window beyond the point to the secluded beach that was accessible only by a small sailboat like his. On Friday evening they both had invitations to a black tie reception at the French Embassy, but for Saturday Dan planned a quiet, intimate supper for just the two of them. As to whether they had it at the beach hut or up at the residence he would leave to Liliana. He guessed that she would choose the beach hut since it had come to be the backdrop for most of their activities.

All of Dan's plans for a quiet, reclusive weekend as well as the unformed thoughts about their future, however, would be altered by the events that would take place that day.

It was Thursday, the last day of the week, and Dan did not have a language class that morning since he held his regular weekly staff meetings on Thursday mornings.

The staff meeting was dull, uneventful and, for the most part, a reflection of the doldrums in which almost everybody was languishing, and Dan only half listened as they went around the table. The only thing of moment was a report by Colonel Jack Jamison, the Military Attache, of some unusual troop movements to reinforce the Somali Army garrisoned along the northwest border with the Ethiopian Ogaden to counter similar movements by the Ethiopians. There had been a shoot out the day before between the Ethiopian Army and a band of Somali nomads heading out of the Ogaden toward Kenya, and the still sketchy reports were that several of the nomads had been killed. As Dan listened to the report his thoughts went back to the night drive he and Liliana made into the bush and their encounter with Sheik Abdula Muhammad. That had been less than a week ago, but it seemed that a lifetime had passed. He felt a sense of gratitude that it had not been the Sheik and his tribe who had been killed, but at the same time a sadness that anyone had to die. Being in love with Liliana had given Dan a new appreciation for life and living, and he realized how much different his own feelings were now that he actually had met and knew some of the nomads who existed for him as flesh and blood people named Ali and Sheik Abdula Muhammad, rather than as abstract impersonal words like a 'band of nomads.'

"Why don't you put what you know into a cable to Washington, Jack," Dan said when the Colonel finished his report. "Slug it info to Addis, and keep me informed if anything important develops."

"I will, sir," the Colonel replied. "The cable is already in the typewriter."

"Thank you," Dan replied. "Anybody have anything else?"

There was a silence, and Dan pushed his chair back from the table. "Have a nice weekend, everybody," he said and walked out of the conference room to return to his office.

Dan stood behind his desk and looked through a stack of routine cables, then on an impulse he left the embassy and told his driver, Abukar, to take him to the gold market in the souk in the old Hamar Uin section of town.

They parked the car on the outer edge of the casbah, and the driver engaged a crippled "spiderman" as a car watcher then accompanied Dan into the labyrinth of narrow cobbled alleyways that zigzagged into the core of the crumbling native quarter of Mogadishu.

It was midday and the streets were filled with bare chested bushmen carrying staves, nomads with crossed bandoleers on their chests and rifles hanging from their shoulders, and veiled women from the small colony of Arabs living in Hamar Uin who were out to do their weekend shopping. In no time a group of half-naked, emaciated children gathered behind them to follow and hold out their hands while clamoring for baksheesh. After several minutes of walking past open sewers, stalls filled with fruits, vegetables, and freshly slaughtered, fly covered, meat hanging from hooks, they turned into a narrow doorway to enter a dark goldsmith's shop.

"Salaam Aleichem," Abukar said and touched his left breast.

"Aleichem a Salaam," a bearded, toothless old man in a white robe replied from his position on the dirt floor where he was working a piece of gold.

Speaking in Somali the driver told the old man that Dan wanted to buy a Star of Mogadishu, a broach made of fine gold wires that are crafted to form a sunburst about an inch and a half in diameter.

Without moving from his sitting position the old goldsmith opened a drawer, pulled out a black velvet cloth and placed it on a table beside where he sat. He unfolded the cloth to reveal a half dozen broaches, and Dan selected a plain, unadorned, example that he thought looked like Liliana. "I'll take this one," Dan said.

Unlike most purchases in Mogadishu there was no bargaining. Gold is sold by the gram at a fixed price, and the goldsmith placed Dan's selection on a scale, calculated the price and informed the driver of the amount. Dan paid for the purchase, and they walked out of the darkness into the heat and glare of the noonday sun which was now straight overhead. They zigged and zagged through the noisy, crowed streets back to the car, then drove to the embassy.

As Dan walked into the reception area of his office his secretary stopped Dan at her desk. "This cable just came in, sir," she said and handed him the red-bordered action copy of an incoming cable. Dan took the message from her and read it: 
THE FOREIGN SERVICE

OF THE

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

INCOMING CABLE
 

TO:      AMEMBASSY MOGADISHU

FROM:    SECSTATE WASHDC

SUBJECT: GREGORY C. CHANDLER

EMBASSY CONCURRENCE REQUESTED FOR MIDTOUR TRANSFER OF
SUBJECT OFFICER TO AMEMBASSY ROME AS COUNSELOR OF
EMBASSY FOR POLITICAL AFFAIRS.  CABLE CONCURRENCE BY
IMMEDIATE ACTION CABLE SOONEST SO AS TO INITIATE
TRANSFER WITHIN THREE WEEKS.
"I'll be dammed," Dan said, then his thoughts immediately rushed to Maggie as he wondered how this would impact on her. "Ask Greg to come up to my office will you please," he said to the secretary.

"Boy, are you going to make Greg's day! And Rome no less!" she said and picked up her phone.

"I guess I will," he said and walked in to his own office. Dan suddenly disliked having knowledge of Maggie's affair with Antonio. What should have been a joyous occasion took on all of the elements of tragedy inside of him, and he did not like having to act as though it were otherwise. But Dan knew that he had no choice. He would have to act as though it were the occasion for a celebration.

The door opened and Greg Chandler walked in. "You wanted to see me, Dan?" he said.

"Yes, Greg, come in," he said and handed Greg the cable.

"I'll be damned," Greg said and broke out in a broad smile.

"My words exactly," Dan said and reached across the desk to shake Greg's hand. "Congratulations."

"Jesus, is this ever going to make Maggie happy," he said.

"I would hope so," Dan replied. "It's a promotion and what a post. Rome is the best."

"Maggie has hated this place from the day we arrived, although for the past few months she's been more content. I even think sometimes that she's beginning to like Mogadishu," Greg said, then paused and read the cable again as if to reassure himself that it was true. "I see they want your concurrence. There's no problem as far as you're concerned is there."

"Of course not. I would never hold back an officer. You deserve it, Greg, and I wish you the best."

"Thanks, Dan." he said.

The phone rang and Dan turned in his chair to pick it up. "Yes," he said.

"The Italian Ambassador on line one, sir," his secretary said.

Dan punched the button on the phone marked one. "Bruno," he said, "Come va?."

"Bene, grazie," he replied. "Dan, I just called to tell you that there's been an aircraft accident. Mario Bianchi, a First Secretary here in the Embassy, and Antonio di Paulo, a local Italian citizen, were both killed. As far as we know now it was an accident, but there were some Somali troops on the move near where their plane went down. There'll be a lot of rumors and I wanted you to hear things from me. I repeat, in so far as we know there was no connection. It was an accident unrelated to the Somali troops."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Bruno, and I appreciate your calling. I was talking to Antonio on Sunday just before he left. If we can be of any help to you just let me know."

"I will, Dan. Thank you. Ciao."

"Ciao," Dan said and replaced the phone. "That was the Italian Ambassador. Mario Bianchi and Antonio di Paulo, a local banana grower, were killed today in a plane crash."

"Jesus!" Greg said. "What happened?"

"Just an accident as far as they know, but there were some Somali troop movements near where the plane went down," Dan replied.

"I don't think the Somalis would ever shoot a plane out of the sky," Greg said.

"I don't think so either," Dan replied, but he was thinking of Maggie and he really disliked knowing about her affair with Antonio.

"I knew Mario pretty well, but I don't think I knew di Paulo unless he's the one where Maggie took the kids one day to see some wild animals he had on his farm," Greg said.

"I think Antonio did keep wild animals," Dan replied, and he truly wanted to end the conversation.

"Anything else?" Greg asked.

"Nothing more," Dan replied. "Once again congratulations and good luck. Why don't you draft the cable giving our concurrence, and get it off tonight."

"With pleasure," he said. "Shall I pass the word about the plane crash?"

"Yes," Dan replied. "Draft up a staff notice and ask my secretary to type it, and let's get that out this afternoon, too."

Greg was in good spirits when he arrived at the house, and for the first time in months he kissed Maggie. For just a fleeting moment Maggie wondered if he might be having an affair with another woman. "I've got a surprise for you, darling," he said and walked to the bar to fix gin and tonics for both of them.

Walking back to where she was sitting he handed the drink to her then sat down on the sofa. "You remember that group of visitors we had a few months ago?" he asked.

"Yes, the codel that I worked my ass off to entertain." she replied.

"Right," he said and took a swallow of the drink. "Brian Olsen came out from Washington with the group and I talked to him about the possibilities of a transfer, just sort of feeling him out to see what might be available. He told me there were a lot of changes coming up, and without making any promises he said that he'd see what he could do for me." Greg reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded paper and handed it to Maggie. "This cable came in to the embassy late this afternoon."

She took the cable from him and she could see that her hands were trembling as she unfolded it. Her eyes went straight to the subject, then the message:


SUBJECT: GREGORY C. CHANDLER
EMBASSY CONCURRENCE REQUESTED FOR MIDTOUR TRANSFER OF
SUBJECT OFFICER TO AMEMBASSY ROME AS COUNSELOR OF
EMBASSY FOR POLITICAL AFFAIRS.  CABLE CONCURRENCE BY
IMMEDIATE ACTION CABLE SOONEST SO AS TO INITIATE
TRANSFER WITHIN THREE WEEKS.

Maggie felt as though she had been punched in the stomach, and her resolve to tell Greg that she was going home rushed out of her. She would need time to assimilate this change; to let it sink into her. In her mind she raced to the conclusion that she could still see Antonio; he went to Rome periodically. His mother and his sisters were there. Then she felt the emptiness in her chest that had been there ever since the day that she left Antonio at the plantation, and she knew that she could not endure it day after day, week after week. She could not live in Rome knowing that he was in Mogadishu just an overnight flight away from her. God, what do I do? she thought as she felt the panic rising in her.

"It's wonderful for you, Greg. I'm so pleased and proud of you." Her voice was flat and she was amazed at how calm she sounded. "I don't suppose there is any chance the embassy won't release you is there?"

"Don't worry, I've already talked to the ambassador and he has agreed to release me. He couldn't do otherwise. It's a hell of a promotion for me."

"That doesn't give us much time, does it? Three weeks is very short notice." Her voice was soft and she spoke as though she were in a trance. She wished that she could run out of the house and rush directly to Antonio. She was on the verge of telling Greg that she wanted to go home to the States and get a divorce, but something inside her told her to wait, that this was not the time to talk to Greg about either going home or the divorce.

"No, it doesn't give us much time, but you'll make it - you always have," he said and got up to walk to the bar to fix another drink. "Say, what was the name of that banana grower where you took the kids that time? di Paulo?"

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Yes," she replied, "Antonio di Paulo. Why do you ask?

"That's what I thought," he said and returned to sit down on the sofa again. "A terrible thing happened this afternoon. He and Mario Bianchi were killed when the plane they were flying in crashed. They'd been on a hunting trip up north and were on their way home. No details yet on what happened. Too bad, Mario was a hell of a nice guy but I can't recall that I ever met di Paulo."

You're lying, she thought. This is some sick way of torturing me, then she realized that he was not lying, and the full impact of what he had just said hit her. It was true. Antonio was dead. She thought she would faint, and she reached for her glass, picked it up and swallowed half of the drink.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said and it seemed to her that someone else was speaking. It was not her voice. "The children, will be heartbroken. He was such a nice man and Steve thought that he was very special."

Fighting back the tears she got out of her chair and walked toward the bathroom. She staggered and stumbled as she walked and once again felt as though she would faint. Once inside the bathroom Maggie closed the door and leaned on the sink to steady herself, and to keep from collapsing on the floor. She looked in the mirror, and it was not her face that she saw. It was the face of a grieving stranger, in a state of shock, whose soul had left her body. "Oh, God," she whispered and closed her eyes, "why did you take Antonio away from me? Why didn't you take me? I'm the adulteress. I'm the guilty one." She opened her eyes and her face was twisted and contorted with pain and grief, and she could no longer hold back the tears. She sobbed with deep emotion filled convulsions, and her entire body was racked with pain, as she gagged and vomited.

"Maggie," Greg's voice said from outside the door. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm alright. I've been having trouble with my stomach, but I'll be fine. I'll be right out." She turn ed on the cold water tap washed her face with the lukewarm water, then returned to the living room where Greg was playing with the children.

Dan met Liliana at the beach hut after work and she was in a state of shock and grief. Her voice was choked and her eyes, which were red and swollen from crying, were covered by large sun glasses when she walked out on to the deck. "Oh, Dan, what a tragedy! I'm so sad. I just can't believe that both Mario and Antonio are dead."

Dan took her in his arms and held her close to him for several minutes and her body trembled with deep sobs. "I know, darling. It is sad, but you don't know the half of it. Greg Chandler got orders to transfer to Rome today. Can you imagine what Maggie must be going through right now?"

"Oh, God, yes. In fact, my first impulse was to go to Maggie and try to comfort her, but I couldn't do it. I hardly know Maggie, but I feel so close to her. I think it's because of us. I know how she must feel. I know how I would feel if something happened to you," she said and removed a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes.

"I know exactly how what you mean. The first thing I thought of when I read the cable about Greg's transfer was how Maggie would take it. That was bad enough, but then right behind the cable Bruno Gianini called me with the news of the crash. I was devastated. Greg Chandler was sitting right in front of me as I spoke to Bruno on the phone, and I've never felt like such a phoney in my life."

"Phoney? Why phoney?" she asked. "Of course I was a phoney. There I was smiling and congratulating Greg on his transfer and promotion while all the time I knew that it was going to devastate Maggie, and in the next moment I find out that his wife's lover has been killed in a plane crash. But I just kept smiling and acting out my part. It was terrible." Dan walked over to the bar. "Can I fix you something to drink?"

"Yes, a light Campari and soda, please." she replied and walked over to a rattan chair and slumped into it.

Dan fixed a whiskey and water for himself and the Campari for Liliana then walked to where she was sitting. Leaning over to kiss her, he handed the drink to her and sat down in the chair next to her. "What a fucking mess, if you'll pardon the expression," he said then raised his glass to touch hers. "Cheers, darling," he said and took a long swallow of the drink.

"Cheers, mi amore," she said. "Do you believe the rumor that's going around about the Somali's shooting down the plane?"

"I didn't know that was the rumor," Dan said. "Bruno told me that the Army was on some kind of manuevers near where the plane crashed, but he said as far as he knew it was an accident?"

"Yes, that's what the Somalis are saying, but the Italians are all afraid that they did shoot the plane down, and that it's an expression of more anti-Italian feeling. What do you think?" she repeated her question.

"I don't know?" he answered. "There was some trouble up on the border with Ethiopia yesterday, but that had nothing to do with the Italians. The Ethiopians are supposed to have killed some nomads in the Ogaden, and the Somalis are moving more troops up there. Anything could have happened I suppose," he replied.

"I don't want to be here alone if there is going to be trouble," she said. "Our little paradise seems to be falling apart."

Dan reached over and took her hand in his. "You aren't alone, my love. If anything should happen you've got the full protection of the American Embassy and the American Ambassador, but don't let your imagination run away with you. This thing will blow over. I've been through this kind of situation before. In a couple of days everything will be back to normal."

She raised Dan's hand to her mouth and kissed his finger tips. "You promise, Mr. Ambassador?"

"I promise," he said and leaned over to brush a light kiss over her lips.

"Now that we've settled the international issues let's talk about Maggie. Do you think I should go to her and offer my condolences," liliana asked. "I wouldn't tell her anything about us. I would just say that I know she was in love with Antonio, and that I'm very sorry."

"I don't really know, Liliana. In a way it's up to you, but my gut reaction is to just let it alone. It's not going to make Maggie feel any better to know that she's been the subject of gossip among the Italians and maybe the Americans, too. I think maybe it's better to leave her alone with her grief and her illusions of secrecy. In three weeks she'll be out of here and once she's in Rome she'll start healing. It will be a slow painful process, but she will heal. What do you think?" he said.

"I think maybe you're right, Mr. Ambassador," she said and smiled for the first time. "You're so smart. I guess I can pray for her, though, can't I?"

"That never hurt anybody," he said and squeezed her hand.

"Anyway, we have our hands full with our love affair don't we?" she said and sipped her Campari.

"Yes we do," he replied. "But for me this is more than a love affair. I love you, Liliana, and I want to start thinking and talking about the future, our future together." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the gold Star of Mogadishu broach. "I didn't buy you an engagement ring but I did go down to the gold market in the souk today to buy this little token of my love for you." he said and handed the pin to her.

"Oh, Dan, how thoughtful. It's beautiful. Thank you, mi amore," she said and leaned over to kiss him, then pinned the broach on her dress. "I'll put it here, right over my heart. I love you, Dan."

"I love you, Liliana. I love you very much, and let's try to put this tragedy aside so we can enjoy the rest of our honeymoon. We have three nights and two more days alone, so let's make the most of them."

"I agree," she said. "Let's make the most ofthem."

They finished their drinks, changed clothes to their bathing suits and went for a walk to the lonely barren end of the beach where they swam. When they returned to the hut Abdulahi had prepared a supper of cold lobster, tomato aspic and a fresh green salad, and after showering together they sat on the terrace to eat in the soft light of the early evening. Dan opened a bottle of chilled white Pouilly Fuisse, and by the time they sipped the last of the wine they were both totally absorbed and fascinated with one another. They had lost all perspective and their ties to the realities of their situations.

"Would you like to accompany me to the reception at the French Embassy tomorrow night?" Dan asked her.

"You mean go with you? Walk in with you? Beyour date?" she said.

"Yes," he replied. "It's been a long time since I've walked into a black tie reception with a beautiful young woman on my arm, and I think I would like to walk in with you. Does that sound terrible, like an ego trip?" he asked her.

"No, not at all. I'm flattered, but can I tell you something?" she said.

"Yes, of course," he replied.

"I have never been to a black tie reception of any kind in my life, let alone one at a French Embassy. It sounds so elegant that I'm scared," she said.

"Nonsense! You'll be the most beautiful and charming woman there, and it will be elegant," he said. "If there is anything the French do well, it is entertaining. The food and drink will be superb, even in this remote outpost. How about it will you go with me? It will set tongues wagging, but what the hell. Maybe by being so open and brazen we'll throw people off as to what's really going on between us."

"Oh I don't believe that," she laughed with her new deep throaty voice. "I think people have a way of picking up, sensing 'what's really going on,' as you say, between lovers. Lovers radiate a special feeling that people sense and like, and yes, I would love to accompany you."

"Wonderful," Dan said. "I'll try not to radiate too much truth and embarrass you. I'll try to act like your friend and pupil."

"I'd almost rather you wouldn't." she said and smiled. "It's kind of a Cinderella fantasy for me to be going to a black tie affair of any kind, but to be going to the French Embassy with an ambassador, the American Ambassador, no less, is....," she paused and was thoughtful for several minutes.

"Is what?" Dan said with a chuckle.

"I don't know - it's thrilling, exciting. I almost want people to know that I'm your lover. Does that sound terrible? Like an ego trip?" she laughed.

"Yes," he joked with her. "It sounds like you only love me because I'm an ambassador and represent the power of the United States of America."

"Well it's not true," she said. "I would love you no matter what you were. I love you because you're sensitive, imaginative and intelligent. To say nothing of handsome, charming, thoughtful, kind and gracious as well as a good lay."

He laughed a good deep belly laugh. "Oh Liliana you're outrageous, and I love you for it."

She put her napkin on the table. "Listen, I have to go home tonight," she said and pushed back from the table. "I have to be with Juliana once in a while, but tomorrow and Saturday I can stay over if you want me."

Dan stood up and walked around the table to take her hand. "If I want you. Hah!" he said and kissed her cheek.

"Okay, you've convinced me that you want me, so tomorrow I'm going to the hair dresser, and then I'll come here about six - is that too late?"

"Make it five," he said.

"Okay five," she said as they walked toward the door. "I'll bring my clothes and dress here, and then we can go to the party." Dan reached down to open the door to her car. "Does that sound all right?" she asked.

"That sounds perfect," he replied and took her in his arms to kiss her.

"Will you take the cover off of the American flag on the fender of your car tomorrow night?" she said, smiling from behind the wheel.

"If that's what you want, we'll go with 'Old Glory' snapping in the breeze." He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Good," she said and started the car. "I love the thought of riding with you with the flag flying. I think I'll go home and dream about it. Ciao." She waved and drove away.

Gene McCoy © July 1998

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