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Authors: Peter Watt

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BOOK: To Ride the Wind
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‘So, an old cobber and Mr Churchill’s lady are together in the land of Joshua,’ Saul said with a broad smile.

His statement puzzled Matthew. ‘I just happened to be flying by when I thought I saw a lady in distress,’ Matthew said, grinning. ‘Who would think that a lady such as Miss Barrington would have much more to do with bandits like your lot.’

‘Miss Barrington is much more than meets the eye – and very pleasantly so,’ Saul said, staring at Matthew’s aircraft, now softly purring on idle. ‘And I think God has sent you to us. Are you able to fly to my settlement?’

Matthew frowned at the request. ‘From what I remember of the distance, I daresay that I can but I am not authorised to do so.’

‘Ahh, just a bureaucratic matter of little consequence,’ Saul responded, waving off Matthew’s concern. ‘I am sure that Miss Barrington’s friends in London can settle that little situation for us. Is that not so, Miss Barrington?’

Joanne nodded. There was a lot more to this American woman than he could ever guess at – especially the reference to her being Churchill’s lady.

‘Matthew, be assured that whatever it is that Mr Rosenblum is proposing will be cleared by the War Office,’ she said. ‘I am sure that we will be able to get the news to your superiors that you have been temporarily put under the direct control of the British government.’

Matthew shrugged. ‘Well, about time I went up and landed at your settlement, cobber,’ he said.

‘You will find a suitable area on the western side of the village where you can put down,’ Saul said. ‘We will all meet there tonight and I will ensure a feast to announce the arrival of both of you. We will escort Miss Barrington from here so she does not have anything to worry about.’

Still mystified, Matthew walked over to his aircraft and clambered aboard as the horsemen trotted up to the rise to give him clearance on the track. Matthew opened the throttle and let his plane bump and grind over the rough, dry surface until the nose rose into the blue sky. He circled overhead, scanning the skies for enemy aircraft and then set a compass bearing to where he remembered the settlement was. As he flew away, leaving Joanne and Saul behind, his thoughts were troubled. In effect, he was disobeying orders. He could only hope that whatever Saul was implying would indeed be sanctioned by the British War Office.

13

M
atthew found the cleared ground on the outskirts of the settlement. He had sufficient fuel to make a low pass and ascertained that the surface was as good as anything outside a constructed airfield. When he returned to make his landing he noticed a large crowd of men, women and children gathering below. Clearly, an aeroplane attempting to land out here was something of a novelty.

The light was fading and Matthew braced himself for the touchdown. It went smoothly and he was able to bring his aircraft to an idle not far from the end of the improvised strip. With the help of a few eager men, one or two of whose faces he recognised as being of those who had rescued him from the Turkish patrol months earlier, he clambered from the cockpit and stretched his legs. Matthew was quick to note that all the able-bodied men – and a few young women – were armed with rifles and pistols; a few sported Mills bombs in their bulging pockets.

‘You come back to us, Captain Duffy,’ one of the men helping him from the cockpit said in a heavily accented Russian voice. He was in his mid-forties but had a tough look in his eyes that did not invite contradiction. ‘My name Igor. We look after your aeroplane and hide it.’

Matthew accepted the assistance, noticing that men and women were already throwing a great, duncoloured mesh cloth over his aircraft. To any observer from the air it would appear to be a mound of earth.

‘Is a, what you say . . . precaution,’ the Russian said. ‘German aircraft fly over our village. We find camouflage net at deserted German airfield. Think it might be good to use one day.’

Matthew was escorted to the settlement where he was met by a party of long-bearded men who greeted him solemnly in a language he did not understand.

‘They say you are sent from God,’ the Russian man said. ‘We do not know why you land here but Saul will tell us when he returns.’

Matthew guessed the older men with the long beards were probably rabbis and if he was God’s answer he wondered what the problem was.

Matthew was escorted to Saul’s house where he was welcomed warmly by Saul’s wife and youngest son. He was given a good meal and, just after sunset, Saul arrived with Joanne.

‘Good to see that you landed safely,’ Saul said by way of greeting, brushing the dust from his clothes and being chided by his wife for littering her clean floors with half the Sinai desert at the same time. But her eyes were full of relief and love at his return.

Matthew glanced at Joanne, who returned his look with a warm expression. ‘Saul is not the only one who is pleased to see that you did not crash this time,’ she said.

‘I was shot down,’ Matthew growled, falling for her mischief. ‘Maybe later on you might be truthful with me and tell me who the hell you really are.’

‘I am an archaeologist. That is the truth – well, most of it.’

Matthew nodded. ‘And who are you really working for – us, or your government.’

‘Possibly both,’ Joanne answered with a mysterious smile. ‘You can be assured that your diversion from your mission with your Flying Corps will be fully sanctioned in London – as soon as I am able to make contact with the War Office.’

This did not make Matthew feel any easier at not returning to his base.

‘Elsa has fed you,’ Saul said, noting the bread still on the table. ‘Miss Barrington and I will eat now while we discuss why God has sent you to us.’

Matthew sat down as Elsa served up a chicken stew.

‘Elsa is also a crack shot with a rifle,’ Saul said, devouring a piece of bread dipped in the juices of the delicious, herb-flavoured stew. ‘She should be. I trained her when I first came here and she has killed many Arabs.’

Matthew thanked Elsa when she poured a glass of rich red wine for himself and the others. The fact that Elsa was a very attractive woman, with a flair for cooking and killing, had not informed Matthew why he was needed.

‘To luck!’ Saul said, raising his glass. ‘Here is to you and I fighting together again – like we did back in Africa.’

Matthew glanced at Joanne who had also raised her glass silently. ‘So, what are you two up to?’ he finally asked.

‘The Ottoman army is retreating towards Jerusalem,’ Saul said, wiping gravy from his chin with the back of his hand. ‘The Arab village nearest us has, over the years, alternated between friendship and hostility, depending on who they listen to from outside. Intelligence from Lawrence’s men has informed us that they have been able to obtain a German field gun with a plentiful supply of shells, as well as a number of Maxim machine guns. They intend to use it against us and wipe us out – every man, woman and child. We need you to deliver that big bomb you carry on your aeroplane down the barrel of their artillery piece.’

Matthew shook his head in disbelief. ‘You cannot tell me that London would sanction me getting involved in a tribal fight between you and the Arabs,’ he said. ‘My squadron has probably already listed me as MIA again, to say nothing of the ramifications of going off on a mad mission to help you – as much as I would like to.’

‘It is not only Saul and his people who you would be working for,’ Joanne cut in quietly. ‘We also have good information that the Arab village is currently harbouring a religious fanatic who has returned from Berlin to convince the Arabs to turn on the British and Lawrence’s nationalist army. We would rather see him taken out of the picture.’

‘We?’ Matthew asked, frowning at Joanne. ‘The British government? But you are an American citizen. How much do you trust this Lawrence chap?’

‘I met Mr Lawrence in Cairo and we share a love of Biblical archaeology. I got to know him through our conversations concerning sites that we had worked before the war. He may be a somewhat odd man but he is devoted to the Arab nationalist cause. I trust his intelligence, as does London. Very soon, my country will be in this war on the side of Britain and her allies,’ Joanne continued. ‘I suppose you could describe me as a liaison officer between the British and my country. In my position as an archaeologist specialising in the Biblical lands, I was very well placed to move between settlements, as was Mr Lawrence before the war. I have had access to the highest Ottoman circles in Constantinople because I was neutral – and because of my father’s financial influence in this part of the world. But, with our entry into the war looming, I am restricted in my movement. Saul has been assigned to provide me with a base and help me in my mission.’

‘Are you working for the bloody Poms too?’ Matthew exclaimed, looking at his old army comrade.

Saul grinned sadly. ‘I had little choice,’ he sighed. ‘You could say my unauthorised leave of absence from our post at Elands River eventually caught up with me. But the Poms were very accommodating when it came to finding a solution. So, there it is.’

‘It is very important that the man we wish to silence is killed rather than captured,’ Joanne said. ‘I have the authority to make that decision.’

‘From whom?’ Matthew growled. ‘King George?’

‘No, Winston Churchill,’ Joanne retorted defiantly. ‘Lord Balfour has compiled a report to create a Zionist state when the war is over. Winnie has a deep interest in this part of the world and the matter of an Arab agitator attempting to turn the local people against the Allied cause is not in Britain’s interests. My mandate was to collect information and, if possible, act on that intelligence. To do so will help both Saul and the war effort.’

‘You do realise that I am putting both my career as a pilot with the AFC and my very life in your hands,’ Matthew said to Joanne. ‘I must truly love you to do that.’

Joanne leaned across the table and took both his hands in her own. ‘When this is all over I want you to meet my father,’ she said. ‘He despises Papists.’

Matthew broke into a chuckle. Here was the strong-willed daughter who was out to defy her father just to prove that she could do so. Hopefully he and Joanne would never have a daughter together. She might just turn out to be like her mother. ‘Well,’ Matthew relented. ‘I am on board. What is the plan?’

Saul looked relieved, stood up and retrieved a map sketched by his scouts. He placed it on the table before launching into a briefing outlining Matthew’s role as well as explaining how he and his men would launch an assault on the Arab village. As Matthew listened, occasionally asking questions on logistics, he experienced a sense of dread. Why did he feel something was bound to go wrong?

That night Matthew did not sleep well. From what Saul had told him, the Arab village was heavily defended. The war between the two settlements had waged for as long as Saul had lived in Palestine, and with the rise of Arab nationalism the small Jewish population was in danger of being eliminated – every man, woman and child.

Despite assuring Joanne he trusted that she would sort out his new mission with his superiors in the AFC, Matthew could not help but harbour a small doubt. Just exactly who she was continued to puzzle him. He now knew that she worked as a spy and he certainly admired her courage working virtually alone in these dangerous lands. But still she had not really explained her motivation to risk her life when she was the heiress to a fortune and would inherit all the trappings that went with that.

Matthew listened to the silence of the settlement at sleep. When the door to his room creaked, instinctively, he grasped his pistol.

‘I can’t sleep,’ he heard Joanne say in a whisper. ‘I would like to lie beside you.’

Surprised, Matthew moved over in the narrow, single bed to allow her to settle beside him. She was wearing little else than a silk slip and Matthew was aware of her flesh underneath when he placed his arms around her.

‘I am armed, so don’t get any ideas, Captain Duffy,’ she said softly with a hint of teasing in her voice, her back to him.

‘I am an officer and a gentleman,’ Matthew said lightly. ‘But you have to be careful of your choice of words when you make a request like wanting to lie with me,’ he continued. ‘If I remember my few forays into the Bible, over here that means a lot more.’

Joanne laughed, attempting to stifle her mirth. ‘I couldn’t sleep thinking about what is ahead in the morning,’ she said. ‘I wonder if I should not have stopped you from volunteering your services in this mission when it has so little to do with you. It has only been in the last few hours that it has dawned on me that you could be killed.’

‘That fear has been with me ever since we got into this war,’ Matthew said, reassuring her. ‘So, do not feel any guilt if anything goes wrong.’

‘Saul has told me that when you were only a boy you lied about your age and went off to fight in South Africa,’ Joanne said. ‘He said that you and he were separated at some place called Elands River.’

‘Like a lot of my life, I would rather not talk about it,’ Matthew sighed. ‘It seems like a lifetime ago. What I would rather know is why you are risking your life in this damned cruel land when you could be at home going to parties and balls.’

‘Oh, I could not explain fully in one night,’ Joanne said quietly. ‘But I guess it is just part of who I am. I seek the adventure normally denied to my sex unless we are independent enough to grasp it ourselves.’

‘This is not adventure,’ Matthew reminded her. ‘This is a deadly game where you can forfeit your life in a thousand horrific ways.’

‘I know,’ Joanne answered in a soft whisper. ‘It just seems that I have been caught up in a situation that has got out of hand.’

‘You are free to quit and go home any time,’ Matthew suggested.

‘That may have been true until this year,’ Joanne replied. ‘But my country is gearing up for war against the Germans and now, as a patriot, I have little choice.’

Matthew knew that for the moment he had asked enough questions. Joanne wriggled around to face him. ‘Life under these circumstances can be desperately short,’ she said, her mouth so close he could feel her moist breath on his face. ‘Love me, Matthew,’ she said with a passion that could not be mistaken for anything else than the invitation he had dreamed about since first meeting this remarkable woman.

BOOK: To Ride the Wind
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