The Last Heroes (Men at War 1)

‘‘I don’t know whether to thank you,’’ said el Ferruch, ‘‘or sell you to the Germans.’’

‘‘If I were in your shoes, I don’t know what I would do either. But why don’t we get down to serious business?’’

‘‘You want me to help with an invasion of North Africa? ’’

‘‘No, nothing so vast, I’m sorry to say. As far as I know, we have no plans to invade North Africa. Rumor has it, in fact, that we might go into Dakar and push up that way.’’

‘‘I don’t believe that.’’

‘‘I’m sure you know your own mind. Meanwhile, a high-ranking French officer wishes to join his brothers who have thrown in their lot with the Allies in their fight against the Nazis. We’d like to help him do that. So we are providing a submarine to transport him to safety.’’

‘‘One of the French officers?’’ el Ferruch meditated aloud. ‘‘Which one? Bethouard?’’ He looked at Baker. ‘‘General Bethouard?’’

‘‘I’m sorry, Your Excellency, I can’t give you an answer at this time.’’

‘‘Do you expect me to help you?’’ el Ferruch said, annoyed.

‘‘Well, yes, of course,’’ Baker said. ‘‘But may I continue? ’’

The pasha of Ksar es Souk waved his hand in imperious assent.

It was a gesture a barbarian chieftain would make, Canidy observed. But this man was no barbarian chieftain. Most of the time he was as smooth as Talleyrand. Thus, it was likely that by his act he would tip Baker a little off balance.

‘‘As you know, our relations with the French are delicate, ’’ Baker said, in no way ruffled. Canidy realized more than ever why he had been chosen for this job. ‘‘If the French discover that we have given aid to a man they perceive as a deserter and traitor, our relationship with France would certainly deteriorate.’’

‘‘But if I help him,’’ el Ferruch said, ‘‘my relationship with France would not deteriorate?’’

‘‘If the French discover you have given aid to him, sure. But, as I said, you are a man of many gifts and talents.’’

‘‘And if I help you—in return . . . ?’’ His voice trailed off.

‘‘I’m sure you have needs.’’

‘‘Not really, Mr. Baker. My major needs are taken care of.

And I have few minor needs. Though naturally I’m not completely satisfied. A week alone with Greta Garbo would be pleasant. Or, more practically, I imagine your country has the resources to irrigate the desert you can see from your bedroom windows.’’

Baker paused reflectively. ‘‘Well, Your Excellency,’’ he said, ‘‘you could probably irrigate a good piece of it for $100,000.’’

‘‘Done,’’ Sidi el Ferruch said.

‘‘There is one other thing,’’ Baker said. He pulled out of his pocket the photo of Grunier. ‘‘I need a double for this man. It doesn’t have to be an exact twin. Just a rough approximation. ’’ He gave height, weight, hair, and skin color. ‘‘And if the double should vanish, he should not be missed.’’

‘‘What’s this all about?’’

‘‘We have an agent—someone who matters to us—who appears to have been compromised. He’s helped us considerably, and we don’t want to take chances with his life, especially now that there is a submarine available for the French officer.’’

‘‘You won’t tell me who he is?’’

‘‘No. He is French, and he works in a strategic industry.’’

‘‘What is that?’’

‘‘The phosphate mines.’’

‘‘I see. And?’’

‘‘He has a family in France. If it were to become known that he had defected to us, reprisals would be taken against them. But if he were to be, say, robbed and murdered by hoodlums and, as it were, left in a gutter, no harm would come to the family.’’