N.B. The above six count as “the older generation,” inasmuch as they were the originals who came to prominence in the Katanga and Congolese wars. The following five are younger in age, except Roux, who is now in his midforties, but may be considered the “younger” generation because they had junior commands in the Congo or came to prominence since the Congo.
ROLF STEINER. German. Began first mercenary operation under Faulques-organized group that went into Nigerian civil war. Stayed on and led the remnants of the group for nine months. Dismissed. Signed on for South Sudan.
GEORGE SCHROEDER. South African. Served under Hoare and Peters in 5th Codo in the Congo. Prominent in the South African contingent in that unit. Their choice as leader after Peters. Peters conceded and gave him the command. 5th Codo disbanded and sent home a few months later. Not heard of since. Living in South Africa.
CHARLES ROUX. French. Very junior in Katangese secession. Quit early and went to South Africa via Angola. Stayed there and returned with South Africans to fight under Hoare in 1964. Quarreled with Hoare and went to join Denard. Promoted and transferred to 6th Codo subsidiary unit, the 14th Codo, as second-in-command. Took part in 1966 Katangese revolt in Stanleyville, in which his unit was nearly wiped out. Was smuggled out of the Congo by Peters. Returned by air with several South Africans and joined Schramme, May 1967. Took part in 1967 Stanleyville revolt as well. After wounding of Denard, proposed for overall command of 10th and 6th Commandos, now merged. Failed. Wounded at Bukavu in a shoot-out, quit, and returned home via Kigali. Not in action since. Lives in Paris.
CARLO SHANNON. British. Served under Hoare in 5th, 1964. Declined to serve under Peters. Transferred to Denard 1966, joined the 6th. Served under Schramme on march to Bukavu. Fought throughout siege. Repatriated among the last in April 1968. Volunteered for Nigerian civil war, served under Steiner. Took over remnants after Steiner’s dismissal, November 1968. Commanded till the end. Believed staying in Paris.
LUCIEN BRUN. Alias Paul Leroy. French, speaks fluent English. Served as enlisted officer French Army, Algerian war. Normal discharge. Was in South Africa 1964, volunteered for Congo. Arrived 1964 with South African unit, joined Hoare’s 5th Commando. Fought well, wounded late 1964. Returned 1965. Refused to serve under Peters, transferred to Denard and the 6th in early 1966. Left Congo May 1966, sensing forthcoming revolt. Served under Faulques in Nigerian civil war. Wounded and repatriated. Returned and tried for his own command. Failed. Repatriated 1968. Lives in Paris. Highly intelligent, also very politically minded.
When he had finished, Endean looked up. “These men would all be available for such a job?” he asked.
The writer shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said. “I included all those who could do such a job. Whether they would want to is another matter. It would depend on the size of the job, the number of men they would command. For the older ones there is a question of the prestige involved. There is also the question of how much they need the work. Some of the older ones are more or less retired and comfortably off.”
“Point them out to me,” invited Endean.
The writer leaned over and ran his finger down the list. “First the older generation. Lamouline you’ll never get. He was always virtually an extension of Belgian government policy, a tough veteran and revered by his men. He’s retired now. The other Belgian, Black Jacques Schramme, is now retired and runs a chicken farm in Portugal. Of the French, Roger Faulques is perhaps the most decorated ex-officer of the French Army. He also is revered by the men who fought under him, in and out of the Foreign Legion, and regarded as a gentleman by others. But he’s also crippled with wounds, and the last contract he got was a failure because he delegated the command to a subordinate who failed.
“Denard was good in the Congo but got a very bad head wound at Stanleyville. Now he’s past it. The French mercenaries still stay in contact with him, looking for a bite, but he hasn’t been given a command or a project to set up since the fiasco at Dilolo. And little wonder.
“Of the Anglo-Saxons, Mike Hoare is retired and comfortably off. He might be tempted by a million-pound project, but even that’s not certain. His last foray was into Nigeria, where he proposed a project to each side, costed at half a million pounds. They both turned him down. John Peters is also retired and runs a factory in Singapore. All six made a lot of money in their heyday, but none has adapted to the smaller, more technical mission that might be called for nowadays, some because they don’t wish to, or because they can’t!”
“What about the other five?” asked Endean.
“Steiner was good once, but deteriorated. The press publicity got to him, and that’s always bad for a mercenary. They begin to believe they are as fearsome as the Sunday papers say they are. Roux became bitter when he failed to get the Stanleyville command after Denard’s wounding and claims leadership over all French mercenaries, and he hasn’t been employed since Bukavu. The last two are better: both in their thirties, intelligent, educated, and with enough guts in combat to be able to command other mercs. Incidentally, mercs only fight under a leader they choose themselves. So hiring a bad mercenary to recruit others serves no purpose, because no one else wants to know about serving under a guy who once ran out. So the combat record is important.
“Lucien Brun, alias Paul Leroy, could do this job. Trouble is, you would never be quite sure if he was not passing stuff to French intelligence, the SDECE. Does that matter?”
“Yes, very much,” said Endean shortly. “You left out Schroeder, the South African. What about him? You say he commanded Fifth Commando in the Congo?”
“Yes,” said the writer. “At the end, the very end. It also broke up under his command. He’s a first-class soldier, within his limitations. For example, he would command a battalion of mercenaries excellently, providing it were within the framework of a brigade with a good staff. He’s a good combat man, but conventional. Very little imagination, not the sort who could set up his own operation starting from scratch. He’d need staff officers to take care of the admin.”
“And Shannon? He’s British?”
“Anglo-Irish. He’s new; he got his first command only a year ago, but he did well. He can think unconventionally and has a lot of audacity. He can also organize down to the last detail.”
Endean rose to go. “Tell me something,” he said at the door. “If you were mounting an—seeking a man to go on a mission an
d assess the situation, which would you choose?”
The writer picked up the notes on the breakfast table. “Cat Shannon,” he said without hesitation. “If I were doing that, or mounting an operation, I’d pick the Cat.”
“Where is he?” asked Endean.
The writer mentioned a hotel and a bar in Paris. “You could try either of those,” he said.
“And if this man Shannon was not available, or for some other reason could not be employed, who would be second on the list?”
The writer thought for a while. “If not Lucien Brun, then the only other who would almost certainly be available and has the experience would be Roux,” he said.
“You have his address?” asked Endean.
The writer flicked through a small notebook that he took from a drawer in his desk.
“Roux has a flat in Paris,” he said and gave Endean the address. A few seconds later he heard the clump of Endean’s feet descending the stairs. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Carrie? Hi, it’s me. We’re going out tonight. Somewhere expensive. I just got paid for a feature article.”
Cat Shannon walked slowly and pensively up the rue Blanche toward the Place Clichy. The little bars were already open on both sides of the street, and from the doorways the hustlers tried to persuade him to step inside and see the most beautiful girls in Paris. The latter, who, whatever else they were, most certainly were not that, peered through the lace curtains at the darkened street. It was just after five o’clock on a mid-March evening, with a cold wind blowing. The weather matched Shannon’s mood.