Dalliance In The Desert, Part II

Still in the hospital in Naples, the Ospedale della Santissima Annunziata, since you ask. I am now up and about, although the ache in my thigh still bothers. Having a bullet removed will do that. The schematic, now on a memory stick, was duly transferred to 'Cyril of the Naples Consulate' as per Sir Harry's instructions, as well as the bill for my hospital stay (Considerable. This is Italy, after all). But I'm getting out tomorrow, and immediately heading for Paris and the Compte de Rienville. I need comfort, and who better -- but enough of this. And not enough of what actually happened, which is as follows.

Tilly had made arrangements to meet in Tobruk, and had also managed to scrounge up a Land Rover at an outrageous price, courtesy the long-suffering American taxpayers. I had previously got in touch with Sheik Khalil al-Mukhtar (not his real name) and secured his clan's blessing for a safe conduct through his territory. Anything for 'Precious Daughter' he said, although five gold ingots from Tilly didn't hurt the negotiation. What had she done? Broken into Fort Knox?

From there, we went south, accompanied by two of the Sheik's men. Tilly and I wore army fatigues, but had condescended to wear hijabs. The Sheik, after all, was meeting us half-way; we could do the same. This didn't stop Tilly from remarking that "Once, just once, I'd like to walk across Arabia in boots, tight sweater and a mini-skirt." I told her she'd get about ten feet before being stoned to death.

At this point the astute reader may wonder about the whereabouts of my minder, Irving. Well, he had to remain out of this particular excursion. Sheik al-Mukhtar would tolerate some things, but not providing protection for an Israeli, and ex-Mossad to boot. This upset Irving no end, and at present he is not speaking to me.

He'll get over it.

The trip to the south was uneventful. Not surprising, there's nothing there except hardscrabble desert. Libya's population is really strung out along the coastal road and, towards the west, the oil fields around Zuara. The current revolt is all happening along that coastal road, so we were at present far from the action. The Sheik's men, however, were very worried. The clans saw any upheavals as bad for business, and Gadhafi was pitting them against each other. In their opinion, a disastrous civil war was all too likely.

This was also, according to Tilly, the opinion of the American State Department (no flies on Hillary) and hence this operation.

When we had gone some 200 kilometers, we reached a small camp sporting two tents housing three Libyans and a tall, rather decrepit-looking person whom Tilly addressed as 'Professor Smith'. The three Libyans were not of the Sheik's clan, but all was well, particularly when one of the gold ingots exchanged hands. The Professor was reluctant to leave his work, but Tilly can be persuasive. "As Al Capone once noted," she said, "a kind word can sometimes get things done. A kind word and a gun always gets things done."

After the Professor had gathered his things, along with some pieces of very strange equipment, we set off, making for the coastal town of Ajdabiya, where we were to leave Libya in a rented dhow. Then the wheels came off.

We had just entered the town when --"

Sorry to report that at this point the Compte de Rienville entered the hospital room, swept Simone up in his arms, and carried her off, much to her delight. She will finish the narrative when she has been, in her words, 'comforted'.

-- Matilda Hatt