Chapter 3

Day 5

"Morning, Cap'n," Murdock said, emerging from the shower stalls and dumping his wet towels into a basket. Wearing a light cotton robe, he came over to the sinks, where Jahni stood, a long towel cinched around his waist and another over his shoulders.

"Morning, Captain," Jahni said, as he soaped up his face with shaving foam. "You okay this morning?"

Murdock had already been in one of the shower stall when Jahni came into the room and was still there when Jahni finished his own shower. Well, he had no reason to hurry. Murdock took the sink beside Jahni and dumped his washbag on the shelf.

"I'm good," Murdock said. "Slept great last night. I swear, I sleep better on a cot than a real bed. That's what even just a few years in the Army does for you." He ran hot water into the sink and extracted his shaving gear from the wash bag.

Jahni chuckled at that, yes, his bed did sometimes feel too big and comfortable after getting used to a cot. Of course, the cots they had here now were much better than when he was a prisoner and then a guerrilla here.

"It's odd to think of you having only a "few years" in the Army," Jahni said.

"You've probably got longer service than me by now," Murdock said. "Funny though. Even a short time and really you're Army the rest of your life."

"I never thought of it that way. But then I can't imagine actually leaving the Army." Well, perhaps he could, but only under some very specific circumstances.

"They'll make you retire one day. Of course, you'll be a General by then..." Murdock grinned and Jahni laughed.

"You know how to flatter a man, Murdock." He went on shaving. Murdock soaped up and started with his own razor. They were silent for a moment, the only sound being the whisper of razor on skin or splashing as one or the other of them rinsed off the razor in the sink. Jahni cast Murdock a quick glance now and then. He looked well rested and as much his usual self as if yesterday had never happened. He'd joined them for dinner the night before, entertaining everyone with banter and tall tales. Jahni didn't find the act convincing. But he could wait.

"How about I take your pilot up for a spin today?" Murdock said. "Put him through his paces; teach him a thing or two?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. I'll come too."

"No back seat driving." Murdock winked at him in the mirror.

"Of course not." Jahni rinsed away the last of the shaving foam and pulled the towel from his shoulders to dry his face.

"What the hell?" Murdock grabbed Jahni's arm and pulled him around to turn his back to Murdock. "Okay, when the hell did you get that?" He slapped Jahni on the back of the left shoulder.

"What? Oh, the tattoo."

"Yeah, the tattoo, Batman."

"I'm not Batman." Jahni said. He turned back to the mirror, found his comb, and arranged his damp hair.

"Okay, no, you're Robin," Murdock said, not elaborating on what he meant by that, despite Jahni's questioning look. "So, when did you get it?"

"When I was training in England, you know, Selection."

"Oh, you did Selection?" Murdock put on a mock surprised tone and Jahni splashed water at him. Okay, yes, he may use the words "when I did Selection" quite often in conversation.

"Hey, I like it," Murdock said. "It's... a fine tribute."

"To Batman."

"Ah, yeah. To Batman."

Jahni looked at him narrowly, but Murdock was now intent on his toothbrush and toothpaste and said nothing else.

"Right, well, I'm going to get dressed," Jahni said. "See you in the mess for breakfast."

"Mmm-hmf," Murdock muttered with a mouthful of toothbrush.

~~

The roof made it real, made it become a real building. One by one, the workers secured the planks into place. Tomorrow they'd tar it to make it waterproof against the downpours that would come in the wet season. The children were once again taking their lessons outdoors while the men worked on their home. A couple of the men had hauled the piano outside and now one of the sisters played that while the children sang hymns.

The glazer arrived, and started fitting panes of glass into the frames, complaining whenever a window wasn't precisely the size they'd told him. The smell of putty filled the air, alongside the scent of fresh bread coming from the orphanage's kitchen.

Madari looked at the building with some pride and when Drummond stepped up beside him, he wore the same expression.

"Nice to see something solid like that come from your donation, eh?"

"Yes. It's very satisfying."

In only a week or so the extended classroom would have children's drawings and painting pinned up on the wall and pictures, maps, whatever else they pinned to classroom walls. The dormitory would hold the small beds. He'd seen the existing dormitory when Sister Raphael gave him a tour. It held little furniture beyond those beds. The children kept their clothes and possessions in boxes stowed under the beds.

Soon Kibibi would be joining them, to live that way permanently.

He couldn't help imagining what he could give her instead, if he took her home and treated her as his daughter. A bedroom of her own, a wardrobe to hold her clothes. New clothes too, not donated by charitable people far away. A bookcase to hold books he would read with her. Perhaps a little desk where she could do her drawings, a rainbow of crayons scattered over it. Other toys. Whatever she wanted.

He had to stop thinking that way. It couldn't happen.

"Sir?" Bennett's voice broke him from his thoughts. He and Drummond turned to see her with a local woman, who was carrying a baby. One of Madari's men stood beside them.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"This lady asked to see you, sir."

Madari looked at the African woman and gave her a polite nod. She probably had some kind of problem to report to him, as so many other people had and that he usually could do nothing about.

"What can I do for you, Madame?" he asked in French. His soldier bent and translated to the woman, into Swahili. She replied and he froze for a moment, and then straightened up, looked at Madari, then at Bennett and bent down to speak in Bennett's ear. Madari glanced at Drummond, when he heard him making snorting noises. Drummond looked as if he was trying to suppress laughter. Before Madari could ask him what was so funny, Bennett was also stifling a giggle and he became impatient.

"Lieutenant? What does the lady want?"

"Ah... she wants you to kiss her baby, sir."

In the silence that followed a shout from the glazer, cursing out the men who had built the window frames, was like the bursting of a shell. Madari regained his voice.

"Kiss her baby? Why would she want me to kiss her baby?"

Bennett had a brief conference with the soldier and nodded. "For good luck apparently. Or a kind of blessing I suppose."

"Blessing? I'm not a priest. I'm not even a Catholic." And good luck was superstition, which he certainly was not here to encourage.

"You're Mr Chapeau Bleu," Drummond said. "The man who saved the children. The people around here are grateful for that."

"I think Colonel Smith deserves the credit for that operation."

"Colonel Smith isn't here," Drummond said.

"How very convenient for him." Madari made a sour face.

Bennett rolled her eyes, which he could consider an act of insubordination.

"Yes," she said. "I'm sure he went back to America specifically to avoid the stampeding hoards of babies he'd otherwise be expected to kiss."

She grinned and he knew she was teasing again. Should he let her get away with that, in front of the soldier? Sometimes she went too far. Though he gave her some leeway, he was used to more formal relations with his officers - well, most of his officers. Women officers of course, he was entirely unused to dealing with. More than once, he'd snapped a sharp reprimand at her while still growing used to the Australian method. Still, he'd give her no more than a glare now. She had earned some latitude.

He looked at the patiently waiting woman and her baby again. The baby slept, its plump dark face still, tiny fists peeking out from the swaddling wrapped around it. Impossible to say if it was a boy or girl. Oh, there was a point.

"Is it a girl?" Madari said. "It would be quite improper for me to kiss a female person I'm not related to."

"It's a baby," Bennett said, still grinning. "Clive, tell him it won't be considered an engagement or anything."

"Quite safe, old chap," Drummond said, sounding amused.

"She, or he, whatever, looks nice and clean," Bennett said, scrutinising the baby. "Nice and healthy. Go on. You don't want the lady to think you're a snooty ba... bloke."

He looked at her narrowly, and then sighed. "Very well, in the interests of good relations with the locals."

He nodded to the soldier and he spoke to the woman, who held out the baby. Madari bent down and quickly kissed the child on the forehead, then straightened up, trying to regain his dignity in the face of Bennett and Drummond's amusement. That attempt failed when the woman grasped his hand and spoke fast, too fast even for Drummond to understand it, a baffled look crossing his face. But the gratitude in her eyes was clear and went well beyond a thank you for the kiss.

"She's thanking you, sir," the soldier said. "For the operation, for what we did."

"Thank you, Private," Madari said. He smiled. "I think I got that much. Tell her it was my pleasure."

As the woman left, walking in the direction of the nearest village, Drummond spoke in a mock-disgruntled tone. "Nobody ever asked me to kiss their baby."

"You'd rather kiss the mothers," Bennett said, making him chuckle.

"Indeed!" He slapped Madari on the back. "Excellent baby kissing, old chap. A career in politics awaits. Let's get some tea on." He strode off.

Politics. Madari winced at the thought. He had more than enough involvement in politics back home for his liking. It had been nice to take a break from it out here. He went back to supervising and helping the building work.

~~

Murdock's howl echoed in Jahni's ears through the headset, followed by one with more fear in it, but just as much excitement, from Lieutenant Hersi, one of the unit's helicopter pilots. Sitting behind them, Jahni hung on for dear life as the helicopter went into a fast plunge, dropping like a stone. If he'd been at the controls himself that would have ended with them spread over half a mile of desert in small pieces. But Murdock pulled it out when low enough to blow sand in a tornado around them as they rose again.

"Wow, Captain Murdock!" Hersi shouted, "You're more crazy than Captain Jahni said!"

"There's layers of crazy to me he's never even seen." Murdock glanced back at Jahni with a grin. "Good to know you've been talking me up."

"I meant crazy as in daring and fearless," Jahni said, realising he was still gripping his seat tight and let go as they were more or less level and travelling at a reasonable speed now. Murdock winked at him and turned back to the front, talking to Hersi, explaining how he'd pulled them out of the dive.

Was he showing off? Jahni wondered. Well, he might be, but why not? He was clearly having fun. But was it all to put off talking about what he went through in the blockhouse? Would he in fact talk about it at all? Perhaps Jahni misjudged how much Murdock trusted him. It made more sense that Murdock would go home and talk to one of the team about it. On the other hand, he seemed in no hurry to leave. He'd already asked Jahni what was for dinner tonight and they hadn't even had lunch yet. Jahni had thought about heading back home that afternoon, but he decided to put it off a little longer.

He could wait.

~~

Jahni woke as someone shook his shoulder and whispered his name. He looked at Murdock, standing over his cot in the barracks.

"I'm ready now," Murdock said, and turned and headed out of the room. Jahni stared after him and then scrambled out of bed and into a pair of sandals and a robe. The night was still warm, he left the robe hanging loose, enjoying the cool breeze on his chest when he went outside.

A glance at his watch told him it was almost two in the morning. Never mind. He'd had many late night talks here. The tall figure standing at the wire looking out over the desert was Murdock this time, not Madari. But that made no difference. A friend who needed him. That's what mattered.

He walked up and stood beside Murdock, who didn't speak or even look at him. Was he as ready as he thought? Perhaps Jahni could give him a lead in.

"What you said earlier, about being strong enough now. It made me think about a letter Faris sent to me. He had... a dream, or a flashback perhaps, about something he hadn't been able to remember before. Part of his torture. It was hidden for a long time and now he has to deal with it as if it happened only yesterday."

His voice caught in his throat, frustration at not being there, pain for Madari's distress. Murdock looked at him, didn't speak, waiting for him this time.

"But he can cope," Jahni went on when he regained control of his voice. "He's stronger now. He can deal with it now."

Murdock smiled and looked away again.

"I just wish I could have been there to help him," Jahni said.

"But you were," Murdock said. "You've helped him get strong enough to deal with it. You don't have to be at his side when you're..." He stopped and put a hand on his chest. "You know. In here. I wouldn't be as strong as I am now without my friends. I'd never have made it without them."

"It goes both ways," Jahni said, smoothing down his hair, disarranged by sleep and the breeze that fluttered the robes they both wore, and recalling what Murdock had said to him about having a full caseload keeping the rest of the team sane. Perhaps that was a joke. Or perhaps not. "After my family was killed I was so full of rage and vengeance that I could have become a monster. Faris kept that from happening."

"It's other people that keep us human."

Jahni agreed strongly with that. He'd lost his belief in a soul in the mystical sense. But if any part of him could be said to be his soul he thought it was his love for Madari. Without that, he would indeed be soulless, a mere killing machine. And as he said, it went both ways. The fact Madari loved him back showed him he was worthy of love, he wasn't a monster. Not yet.

He had a soul. Faris was his soul.

He sighed. Time to stop thinking about himself; he was here to help Murdock.

"Talk to me, Murdock," he said quietly. "Did you find what you wanted in that room? Did you find the way out?"

"Yes. Out of that room."

"There are other rooms you haven't found your way out of?"

"That's right. Strange, they get kind of comfortable after a while. You get scared to leave them, because when you do, you become somebody else and getting to know new people isn't easy. It's easier to retreat, back into that cosy room, away from the new person." He shook his head and looked at Jahni. "But you gotta face up to them in the end. Become them. If you can't change then you're already dead."

"I've... changed so much since the day I came here."

"You met him." Murdock's voice was soft, but Jahni glanced sharply at him. Yes, many of the changes were because of that. So long ago, and as clear as yesterday. Arriving here, full of anger, confusion and desperation, ready to fight anyone who even looked at him wrong. And in the midst of that, a strange instant of stillness when he met the eyes of the tall, thin man standing behind the fence.

"I found my soul..." Jahni whispered, then caught himself and swallowed down a curse. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. "My... my purpose," he said. "My duty... as a soldier."

Murdock looked at him nodding.

"I remember the day I met the colonel. My colonel, I mean. Felt as if I'd known him all my life. Yet every day, he surprises me. Same with Face and BA."

Could a soul be split four ways? Making them more than a team, different from a family.

"Is that why you guys can't split up, not really?" Jahni said, knowing they'd tried, since their pardons, to make their own lives but they always came back together again. "Because without the others, you're not... complete?"

"Yeah," Murdock said, quietly. "Like part of me is missing when I'm not with them."

Part of Jahni had been missing for the last five months. In another month, he'd be whole again.

"Do you feel that way now?" He asked Murdock. "Do you wish you'd brought one of them with you?"

"No. I had to do this alone. I had to know I was strong enough. Anyway, I can cope with being away for a few days. A few months... well, I don't have to tell you that hurts."

Jahni flushed and looked away. Murdock couldn't know, could he? An insane urge to blurt it out to him took hold of Jahni. Would Murdock understand? Americans were so open-minded. Murdock had never appeared to have much in the way of religious convictions.

Still, he couldn't risk it. Just in case he'd read Murdock wrong. In case he shocked and disgusted him, lost him as a friend. And he couldn't control who Murdock might tell. He trusted Murdock personally, but he wouldn't put Madari's life in Murdock's hands too.

There were times he wished it would all come out at last. If it did, if people knew the feelings they had for each other ever did come out, along with the things they'd done, the kisses - and people would surely suspect a lot more - then they'd be forced to leave the country. They'd be free.

But he couldn't make that choice for Madari. Madari had risked so much telling Sophia, and despite her discretion, Jahni still carried some anger about that. But to risk the same by telling Murdock would make Jahni a hypocrite. In more ways than one. He'd told Madari he had a renewed sense of the importance of his career to him, intended to make sure he didn't risk it again.

So for all those reasons he stayed silent. He gripped the wire and rested his head on his hand. Murdock's hand rested on his back.

Jahni turned to look at him, trying to smile. "I thought I was supposed to be helping you here."

Murdock patted his back. "You are helping."
 

Day 6

Madari woke in his tent to the sound of the camp already up and about. Checking the time, he saw it was an hour later than he'd ordered the night watch to wake him. He suspected Bennett's intervention there, could hear her now giving the order: "let him get some shuteye."

She had a point. He felt better for the extra hour, after sitting up late last night. His visions of Kibibi had changed from sweet pictures of her drawing, singing, playing, to imagining her as a target for his enemies and that left him feeling sick with horror. To have Jahni, or even Sophia targeted because of his closeness to them would be bad enough, but a child? The thought had raised goosebumps on his skin despite the heat.

He had no choice. She'd be safer here.

That didn't make it any easier to think this was the day he'd leave her here at the orphanage. He'd visit before he went home of course. But she was so young, would she start to forget him? He remembered Faraj's pain at coming home after two years to find his son no longer knew him. Of course Mehdi had been younger than Kibibi. Or was it best that she did forget about him? Easier for her.

Pulling himself together, he gathered his things and left his tent to wash.

After breakfast, the work began and soon the air was foul with the smell of hot tar, as the workers sealed the roof. Other men worked inside, painting the interiors, others outside varnishing the exterior.

The day passed quickly, with so much work, but by lunchtime it was clear they wouldn't finish soon enough to leave tonight. Madari gave orders to prepare for a final night here and to be ready to strike camp first thing in the morning. Perhaps he should have said at first light, before the children got up, so he could say goodbye today as he'd expected. Or should he make the most of a last few hours with Kibibi?

He sighed and shook his head at his mixed emotions. Did he actually want to leave today, or was he genuinely glad to have another night here?

"Come on everyone!" Bennett called, as they sat around resting after lunch. "Everybody up." She was carrying her camera. "Gotta get some pictures while we still have the light."

"Pictures?" Madari said.

"Souvenirs. Come on, you have to be front and centre, along with Sister Raphael."

Madari shrugged at Drummond and they both got up and followed Bennett, who was arranging everyone, workers, sisters, security men, soldiers, officers and the children into a big group.

"Come on, everyone! Get into place." Bennett had a tripod and fussed over the camera for a while, talking to a local man, who Madari hadn't seen before, but who seemed to know how to use the camera. After a conference, he chased Bennett away and she came and joined the group, grinning and standing on Madari's left. Sister Raphael stood at his right, with her sisters and the children ranged to her right and behind her. The workers, Lodge security men and soldiers stood to the side and behind Madari and Drummond. Kibibi stood in the middle, holding the hands of Madari and Sister Raphael.

After a few trips back over by Bennett and various other groupings, making Madari feel like he was at a wedding, she finished the photographs at last.

"Can we get back to work now?" Madari asked Bennett, who looked sheepish.

"You'll thank me later," she said. "Got some great shots."

The children ran off back to their outdoor classroom, the sisters following them. The men went back to work. Sister Raphael turned to Madari and Drummond, still holding Kibibi's hand.

"I want to thank you both now, not only for the money, but for how your men have done the work so fast."

"Well your local workers did most of it," Madari said. "We just helped out."

"Believe me, they'd have taken four times as long without you keeping them going."

"The military like things done sharpish," Drummond said, smiling. "You're very welcome, sister. Glad to do it."

"I am too," Madari said. "And it's been very rewarding to actually be here helping to put the money into action."

"You're both generous men." She raised her hand. "God bless you both. Come, child, back to lessons."

Kibibi waved as she left with the sister and Madari waved back until she turned away.

"Got an idea to put to you," Drummond said. Madari looked at him, wondering if he was also going to suggest Madari adopt Kibibi.

"What is it?"

"Eshe is fond of little Bibi there. Have to say I am too. Been thinking I could let her stay at the lodge. Wish I could do it for all of them, poor mites. But I have to make a living. There's room for one though. There's a decent school not far off, all the lodge workers' kids go there. And, if she wants it, she'll have a guaranteed job at the lodge when she gets older. What do you think?"

"Will you let me contribute to the cost of her keep and education?" If Madari couldn't give her a home he could help to make sure she had what she needed.

"Not necessary, but I won't turn you down. I think what she'd like best from you is letters."

"Oh, certainly. Yes, I will write to her."

"Good." Drummond sighed. "I know, it's not the same for her, but it's closer to a family than living here. No offence to the sisters, they do their best here."

"Yes. Family. Clive, thank you. I feel... better now about leaving."

Drummond clapped him on the shoulder. "Thought it seemed like it was chewing on you a bit. You're a sentimental fellow, aren't you?"

Madari laughed. "I fear so."

"Well, you can rest easier now. And you've got another month before you go home, so you can make sure she's settled in."

Another month.

Home. To Jahni. To Sophia. To his life. Leaving behind these strange notions about fatherhood.

That must be for the best.
 

Day 7

Jahni insisted on coming into the airport with Murdock, not just dropping him off. They'd come home the day before and last night Jahni had taken Murdock for dinner and a night on the town, both as light-hearted as if the last few days had been a simple holiday.

But they were more serious as they said goodbye, after Murdock checked his bags and headed for the security checkpoint. A quiet weekday and only a couple of people queued ahead of him. Murdock turned to Jahni.

"Thanks for your help, Kahil."

"No thanks necessary, Murdock. I was glad to help." He smiled. "Anything to get away from paperwork for a few days."

"Ah, but now you have a load of it to catch up on."

Jahni winced. "Yes, don't remind me. Have a good flight." He offered Murdock his hand, but Murdock pulled him into an embrace and spoke quietly to him.

"You walk a hard road, kid. Don't forget that I'm here if you need a hand over the roughest spot."

"Thank you," Jahni spoke in a whisper and again felt that urge to tell him, tell someone the feelings that he had to leave in the silent darkness, for fear they'd destroy him. Again, he squashed that urge. He hated the secrecy, hated that it made him unable to trust even Murdock. Secrecy felt like poison. No, like a drug, that he relied on, wanted to stop, and was afraid to stop. Addicted to secrets. He sighed and stepped back and they smiled and waved their goodbyes, as Jahni watched Murdock go through security and head into the departure lounge.

The security men nodded to Jahni and one elbowed another, a man that Jahni hadn't seen before and whispered something to him. The new man stared at Jahni, who just gave him a quick nod and turned away. Time to get out of here. Madari seemed to enjoy it when they came to the airport, for whatever strange reason. He liked to stop off at the coffee shop, or pick up a magazine, chat to the staff, perhaps visit the airport manager or security chief. Jahni was happier to get in and out of the place as quickly as possible.

But, in a month, he'd be here to greet Madari returning from Zaire. Now that visit he wouldn't mind at all.

~~

They struck camp late morning. Later than planned, but there was still final tidying up to do. And it was Sunday, and the local priest came to celebrate mass, so many of the men attended that. They had the mass in the open air, like the classes. Madari approved of that. He had always liked to pray in the open air, especially in the desert, where his soul felt at home. The priest's voice, interspersed with hymn singing, accompanied the non-Catholics as they worked on clearing up the building site and dismantling the camp.

The goodbyes took a long time of course, the soldiers and security men all fond of the children, all with their favourites. The sisters and the local people all wanted to express their gratitude. They gave gifts of thanks, some made by the children, some gifts of food, all graciously received.

At last, as the sun was climbing close to noon, the goodbyes were done, the work over and Drummond's and Madari's people climbed into their loaded vehicles. Kibibi joined the officers and Drummond in their Land Rover and sat on Bennett's lap, smiling and clearly delighted to be coming home with them.

Another month, Madari thought, as they pulled away, leaving behind the extended orphanage and its extra residents. The children waved until they were out of sight. After that, Madari heard Bennett sigh and looked at her to see her relax into the seat and hug Kibibi close to her, the two of them settling down for the journey, perhaps to sleep. Madari smiled at that. Bennett seemed as glad to have another month with Kibibi as he was.

A month and then he'd be home. Back to Kahil and Sophia, but leaving behind Bibi and Karen.

Life is bittersweet.

end