The Levanter Part 10

Comrade Musa grinned and pointed to a big scar on his neck.

'A war wound?'

'Yes,' said Ahmed; 'but he can hear the smallest sound. He heard you last night before I did. What time were you ordered to report, comrade?'

'Nine o'clock.'

'Comrade Salah does not like to be kept waiting.'

'I'm sure of that.'

'Go on then, comrades,' he said affably. 'You know the way.'

For a moment I thought that we were to be left to go on alone, then, as I started to turn, Ahmad chuckled and prodded me with his carbine. 'March, comrades,' he said. It was not a hard prod but firm enough to let me know that a flashlight did not buy indulgence and that he was still in charge there.

When we got to the steps of the office building he told us to wait while he went in to report our arrival. Musa grinned at us while we waited but kept his finger on the trigger of his gun. There were lights on in the laboratory, but I could hear no voices. My office was in darkness. Ahmad had gone through to the back of the building.

After half a minute or so he came back on to the terrace and beckoned us up. When we reached him he told me to raise my arms above my head and frisked me. Then he took Teresa's handbag from her and peered inside it. Satisfied that we were both unarmed he returned Teresa's bag.

'Follow me, comrades.'

We went along the pa.s.sage to the storeroom area. Changes had been made there that I hadn't known about. The larger of the two rooms was now Ghaled's command post. The rolls of zinc sheet-my zinc sheet-which should have been set out carefully in rows to keep the different gauges separate had all been stacked against one wall to make room for a trestle table, some chairs and a bed. The place had a lived-in look, as well it might. It had been months since I had time to bother with the battery works storage rooms. I had left them in Issa's care. Perhaps it was the sight of him sitting there at the table, and giving me a superior little smile as I entered the room, that made me so angry.

For me that anger was dangerous. Since there was no immediate way of giving expression to it I had to bottle it up. As a result, I became for a while less afraid of Ghaled and so less careful of what I said. I made mistakes.

It was all very formal to start with, rather like the first board meeting of a newly-formed company.

Ghaled said, 'Good evening, comrades.' Teresa and I said, 'Good evening, comrade Salah,' and were invited to sit down.

There were two other men besides Ghaled and Issa already seated at the table. Ghaled introduced them.

'This is comrade Tewfiq. This is comrade Wasfi. They are central committee members.'

Tewfiq was a sallow, pock-marked man with a heavy moustache and a paunch. Wasfi was a wiry young man with a very short upper lip and an unhappy half-smile which seemed permanent. I knew that I had seen both men before and could now guess where I had seen them. Tewfiq and Wasfi are fairly common names in those parts, but they also happened to be the given names of the hardware factory storekeeper and of the maintenance man whom I had marked down as suspect earlier in the day. It was reasonable to suppose that these were those same men.

They both gave me impersonal nods. They did not need telling who I was.

'Now,' Ghaled was saying briskly, 'we have much work to do. Last night I described our supply problems and special needs in general terms to the new comrades. Tonight we will detail our requirements and make the necessary plans for their fulfilment. I must impress upon you the need now for the utmost urgency in carrying out a.s.signed tasks. Every task, I repeat, every task must be completed within the next thirty days. Is that understood, comrades?'

There was a murmuring of, 'Yes, comrade Salah,' in which I didn't join. Ghaled looked at me sharply.

'I did not hear you answer, comrade.'

'Because I have not understood. I have no knowledge of these tasks you mention.'

"You will have. But I have told you of the urgency. That you can understand, and will accept.'

'Very well.'

He stared at me for a moment. I was being insufficiently respectful, but he wasn't quite sure that I realised that I was. I returned his stare with one of my own, innocent but expectant. He gave me the benefit of the doubt and turned to a paper in front of him.

'First,' he said, 'the matter of detonators, those for electric firing. I will hear reports. Comrade Issa?'

'We have powder for five hundred, comrade Salah. Samples have been tested in the laboratory and are satisfactory.'

'Comrade Tewfiq?'

The copper tubes are on order, comrade Salah, but not yet delivered.'

'Why not?'

Tewfiq spread out his hands. "They were promised for last week and the week before. I am in the supplier's hands, comrade Salah.'

Ghaled looked at me. 'Perhaps comrade Michael can help us. Fifty metres of one-centimetre diameter copper tubing are required. It must be a hard grade of copper.'

'Who are the suppliers?' I enjoyed asking that question because I was sure that the truthful answer would have been that the hardware co-operative and I were the suppliers. After all, we would be paying for the stuff.

Of course, he gave me the name of a metal wholesaler. It was the firm with which we normally dealt.

'There is a special government control on non-ferrous metal purchases,' I said. 'Was a quota number given with the order?'

Tewfiq was sweating now. 'I do not know, comrade.'

'Why not?' snapped Ghaled.

'Because, comrade Salah . . .' He floundered for a moment. 'Comrade, you know that I do not actually issue the orders myself,' he went on, pleading for understanding with his eyes; 'I am only the . . .'

'Yes, yes,' Ghaled waved him into silence and sat brooding.

I knew what was going through his mind. If Tewfiq explained that he was only a storekeeper and that a works office clerk did the actual ordering, I would put two and two together and Tewfiq's cover would be blown as far as I was concerned. Ghaled was trying to decide whether or not to take me into his confidence. He decided against doing so.

'You must press for early delivery,' he told Tewfiq severely.

'Yes, comrade Salah.'

'Continue your report.'

'We have the insulated connector wires, the tin caps and the packing material. However -' he hesitated and then went on with a rush-'I regret, comrade Salah, deeply regret that there is still difficulty in obtaining the chrome-nickel alloy wire. It is not a material that I can reasonably order. I have tried. Comrade Wasfi will bear me out.'

'That is true, comrade Salah.' Wasfi's anguished smile stretched until it became clownlike. 'We said that it was fuse wire for electrical maintenance use, but they ordered fuse wire. I think they may not be the same thing.'

Ghaled looked at Issa. 'Are they the same?'

Issa took refuge in some papers in front of him. The specifications call for chrome-nickel alloy wire of thirty gauge,' he said.

'That is not an answer to my question. Are they the same?'

'I do not know, comrade Salah.'

Ghaled looked at me.

'No,' I said, 'they are not the same. Chrome-nickel alloy, nichrome as it is called, is a resistance wire. It is used in electrical heating elements because it can get hot without melting or oxidising. Fuse wire melts when it gets hot. What is the chrome-nickel wire needed for?'

'Show him," said Ghaled.

Issa pushed a sheet across the table to me. He hated doing it, I could see. He was the technical authority here, not I.

A drawing on the paper showed how the detonators were to be made. A six-centimeter length of one-centimetre copper tube was to contain five grams of mercury fulminate held between plugs of cotton wool. One end of the copper tube was capped with tin; the other end had a wax seal holding the two insulated firing leads. The ends of these two leads were in the middle of the fulminate powder where they were connected by a small loop of fine chrome-nickel wire. That was the firing circuit. All you needed then was a six-volt battery and a switch. When the circuit was closed, the chrome-nickel wire, no thicker than a hair, would become white hot almost instantly and the fulminate would explode, blowing off the tin cap and detonating any high explosive with which it had been placed in contact.

It was a simple design but a practical one. If you followed the instructions it could be counted upon to work. I continued to study the drawing to give myself time to think. I was tempted to sabotage the whole detonator project by advising them to use the fuse wire, but decided that it would be too risky. Issa had said that the powder samples had been tested. They would certainly test the completed detonators. If the test sample didn't work, any modification I had suggested would certainly be blamed.

I looked up.

'Well?' said Ghaled.

'A very thin fuse wire might get hot enough before it melted to ignite the powder charge, but I don't think you could rely on it. I think you must have this fine-gauge chrome-nickel.'

We must have it, comrade,' he admonished me. 'The question now is, where do we get it?'

Issa saw a chance to regain lost face. 'If it is used on electric heating elements,' he said, 'we can obtain it easily. Only four or five metres are required. We can get a few of these elements and strip them.'

Ghaled looked at me again.

'We could try,' I said; 'but I don't believe that heating elements are ever made using such a fine gauge. Indeed I am sure they aren't. It will have to come from a radio dealer who does repair work and has wire-wound resistors in stock.'

'Comrade Salah!' Wasfi burst out excitedly. 'I know such a man. He has a shop in the souk.'

But Ghaled motioned Wasfi into silence. His eyes were on me.

'Do you not use these resistors in your own electronic a.s.sembly work?' he asked.

'None of the resistors we use are wire-bound, comrade Salah.'

'Not even in the Magisch communications transceiver which you a.s.semble for the army?'

That made me jump a little. The Magisch was supposed to be on the secret list.

'Especially not in the Magisch transceiver,' I replied. "They use miniaturised circuit units which we get from East Germany already sealed in plastic. We merely a.s.semble the units. There are no individual components of the ordinary kind.'

He gave me a silent hand-clap. 'Good. Very good.' His eyes were mocking. 'A little test, comrade Michael, that is all. Fortunately you have pa.s.sed it with credit. My own electronics expert gave me the same advice.'

I made a show of being disconcerted which seemed to please him. Identifying the 'electronics expert' would not, I knew, be difficult. The reference to the Magisch had been the give-away. I already had a short list of two suspects in mind and another look at the employment files would tell me which of them was guilty.

'Very well. Comrade Wasfi shall buy the wire resistors. Meanwhile we have another urgent matter on which you may be able to a.s.sist us, comrade Michael.'

'Of course, comrade Salah, I shall be glad to do anything that I can.'

He seemed not to hear me. He had risen to his feet and crossed to the bed. On it were two large metal objects which he brought back and placed on the table.'

'Do you know anything about ammunition, Comrade Michael? I mean about such things as heavy mortar bombs and artillery projectiles.'

'No, I don't.'

'Then I will explain. Heavy projectiles have three main parts. The main explosive charge and the fuse you must know about, in principle anyway.'

'Yes.'

'In between those two parts there is a third. We call it the booster or gaine. High explosives of the kind used in large projectiles is insensitive stuff and a small detonator is not enough. So we place this larger detonator, the gaine, in the middle of it and let the fuse explode the gaine. This'-he picked up the larger of the metal objects - 'is the gaine.'

It was a bronze-coloured cylinder about thirty centimetres long and five thick with a heavy steel collar at one end. The collar was threaded on the outside, for insertion into the 'projectile' I a.s.sumed, and there was a hole in the top, also threaded.

Ghaled pointed to the hole. 'That is where the impact fuse should go.' He picked up the small object which was painted grey and shaped rather like an oversize spark plug. It was threaded at one end with hexagon facings just like a plug. 'And this is the fuse,' he said. 'Now, comrade Michael, take the gaine in your left hand. It is filled with tetryl, but do not be afraid. There is no danger. Now take the fuse. A little more care with that is advisable. It has a set-back safety mechanism but should not be dropped or struck hard. Now try to fit the fuse to the gaine.'

What he was getting at was immediately obvious. The threaded hole in the gaine was slightly bigger than the threaded end of the fuse. The two threads were also of a different pitch. I examined both more closely and had a revelation. I looked across at Tewfiq.

'So that's what you wanted those taps and dies for,' I said.

There was a short silence. Tewfiq and Wasfi appeared to be stunned. Ghaled leaned forward.

'Explain yourself, comrade Michael."

'To make these two fit together you need an adapter ring with an outer thread to fit the gaine and an inner one to fit the fuse. The threads are both standard metric by the look of them and you have to cut them by machine. Taps and dies in those diameters are only made for pipe threads, which have completely different profiles. Comrade Tewfiq did not know that. He thought that the adapter rings would be made by hand with taps and dies, so he ordered them. The suppliers wrote back saying that the order could not be filled.'

Ghaled had a very unpleasant expression on his face. 'How long have you known that Tewfiq and Wasfi were our comrades?' he asked quietly.

'Not for certain until this evening, but I had my suspicions earlier in the day.'

'Why did you have suspicions?'

I told him.

He sighed and glanced at Issa. 'You see now why it was so necessary to make sure of him last night?' And then to me: 'What excuse have you to offer?'

'My curiosity was natural I think, comrade Salah. You did not tell me not to exercise it.'

'Then I tell you now.'

'Surely no harm has been done.'

'That is for me to decide. The comrades in the field, the front-fighters, must know one another, but those who work in cells under cover must know only those with whom they have to work directly. So, there will be no more looking into records, comrade Michael. You understand? I am giving you an order.'

'I understand.' I didn't see how he would know whether or not I obeyed the order; and, since he had now made it plain that there were other members of the PAF on my payrolls, I had every intention of disobeying.

Anger was still at work in me. I think he had sensed it, because he stared at me long and hard before adding: 'I hope you do understand, comrade Michael. You would not like any disciplinary action I was forced to take.'

'I understand.'

'Then let us get back to work. How is this adapter ring to be made?'