There was a lot that could go wrong.
He heard a vehicle and looked up, but it was a newish Toyota with a healthy-sounding engine, definitely not Yakub’s jalopy. Abdul sank back into the sand and pulled his grey-brown robes tighter around him. As the Toyota went by he saw two guards sitting in the open back, both holding rifles. They must be escorting gold, he reasoned.
He wondered speculatively where the gold went. There must be a middleman, he thought, perhaps in Tripoli; one who turned the gold into money in numbered bank accounts the ISGS could use to pay for weapons and cars and anything else they needed for their mad schemes to conquer the world. I’d like to find out the name and address of that guy, Abdul thought. I’d tell him about the place his money comes from. Then I’d tear his fucking head off.
*
As Kiah washed Naji, a task she performed automatically, she was having an argument in her head with the ghost of her mother, whom she called Umi.
‘Where’s that handsome foreigner gone?’ said Umi.
‘He’s not a foreigner, he’s Arabic,’ Kiah said with irritation.
‘What kind of Arab?’
‘Lebanese.’
‘Well, at least he’s a Christian.’
‘And I have no idea where he is.’
‘Perhaps he’s escaped and left you behind.’
‘You’re probably right, Umi.’
‘Are you in love with him?’
‘No. And he certainly isn’t in love with me.’
Umi put her hands on her hips in a characteristic combative gesture. In Kiah’s imagination Umi had been baking, and now she made floury fingerprints on her black dress, just as she used to before she became a ghost. In a challenging tone she said: ‘Then tell me, why is he so nice to you?’
‘He’s quite cold and unfriendly some of the time.’
‘Really? Is he being cold-hearted when he protects you from bullies and tells stories to your child?’
‘He’s kind. And strong.’
‘He seems to love Naji.’
Kiah dried Naji’s damp skin gently with a rag. ‘Everyone loves Naji.’
‘Abdul is an Arab Catholic with plenty of money – just the kind of man you ought to marry.’
‘He doesn’t want to marry me.’
‘Aha! So you have thought about it.’
‘He comes from a different world. And now he’s probably gone back to it.’
‘What world has he gone back to?’
‘I don’t really know. But I don’t believe he was ever really a vendor of cheap cigarettes.’
‘What, then?’
‘I think he might be some kind of policeman.’
Umi made a scornful noise. ‘The police don’t protect you from bullies. They are the bullies.’
‘You have an answer for everything.’
‘So will you when you’re my age.’
*
After about an hour Abdul saw Yakub’s pickup. It came wheezing up the slope, going ever slower, trailing a cloud of dust. The dust might help conceal Abdul as he jumped into the back.
He remained motionless, waiting for the right moment.
He could see Yakub’s face through the windscreen, concentrating on the track ahead. As the vehicle passed Abdul’s hiding place its dust cloud spread and enveloped him, and he leaped to his feet.
Then he heard another vehicle.
He cursed.
He could tell by the engine note that the second vehicle was newer and more powerful, probably one of the black Mercedes SUVs he had seen in the secure car park. It was moving fast, and its driver evidently intended to overtake Yakub.
Abdul could not risk exposure. The dust might hide him, but it might not, and if he was seen his escape attempt would be over, and so would his life.
He sank back to the ground, pulled his headdress over his face, and blended back in with the desert as the Mercedes roared by.
The two vehicles breasted the rise and disappeared over the hill, leaving behind a tan-coloured fog, and Abdul began to trudge back to the camp.
He could at least try again. His plan was still good. He had just been unlucky. It was unusual for two vehicles to leave the camp together.
He would have another opportunity in a week’s time. If he was still alive.
*
He was made to work through the midday break as a punishment for arriving late at the pit. He guessed that the penalty would have been worse had he not been such a strong worker.
That evening he was tired and disheartened. Another week in hell, he thought. He sat on the ground outside the shelter, waiting for supper. As soon as he had satisfied his hunger he would sleep.