The Mercenaries (27 page)

During the night, they were awakened by a series of thuds to the east.

‘Guns?’ Sammy asked, appearing stark naked on the verandah and staring over the cherry trees at the swathes of stars that hung over their heads like fields of daisies.

‘Bombs, I think,’ Ira said. ‘If it is, Lao’ll be round in the morning.’

They were sitting over the coffee pot in the office when the car arrived, bouncing and rattling over the uneven ground towards the tents. Lao climbed out, accompanied by Kee. It was hard to tell from his stiff features whether he was angry or merely amused.

‘General Tsu’s headquarters were bombed during the night,’ he announced at once. ‘General Tsu’s air force is not doing its duty.’

Ira snorted. ‘General Tsu’s air force isn’t doing its duty because General Tsu’s pilots don’t know how to. And if General Tsu’s interested he has one less pilot and one less aeroplane than he had yesterday.’

Lao looked disconcerted. ‘Could you not repair it?’

‘There isn’t enough to repair.’

‘General Tsu will be very angry to have lost an aeroplane.’

‘Isn’t he interested in the bloody pilot?’ Ira snapped. The poor little bastard never had a chance. He couldn’t even fire in the direction he was flying.’

Lao blinked and stiffened. ‘War consumes youth and beauty like a tiger,’ he said.

Ira grunted and Lao gestured at the sky.

‘General Tsu wishes to have the enemy bombing aeroplane destroyed,’ he said. ‘He wishes the illustrious foreign flier to do it at once.’

Ira grinned. ‘Me?’

‘Of course.’

‘You’re sure?’

Lao frowned and nodded. ‘It is the General’s wish.’

Ira turned away, then he stopped and spoke over his shoulder. ‘O.K.,’ he said cheerfully, ‘but, by God, it’ll cost General Tsu something this time. The newer the plane, the higher the price. This one’ll cost him seven hundred dollars at least--because of Tsai.’

That night they heard the thud of bombs again and within an hour of daylight, Lao was back on the airfield demanding action, and Ira began a routine that took up every minute of his time, patrolling with Sammy in the Avro at ten thousand feet with the sun behind them, on the look-out for Kwei’s plane. When they landed they didn’t bother to take off their leather flying jackets before they rolled out the petrol drums and began to refuel. As soon as they’d finished, they were off again, climbing towards the sun.

There was no sign of Kwei’s bomber, however, though they still occasionally heard the thud of bombs in the early morning and even took to leaving in darkness along a line of home-made paraffin flares and waiting above the airfield as the first rays of light stole across the horizon. But the sky was immense and Tsu’s territory enormous, and Kwei’s pilot crafty enough to change his targets and his timing. In their efforts to cover every eventuality, they fell into a routine of leaving for their first patrol at dawn and slipping to the ground after their last with the final streaks of daylight, until Tsu’s men, watching from the villages where they were billeted, got used to seeing the single aeroplane buzzing above them several times a day, the sun luminous on the undersurface of the wings and the curve of the engine cowling.

They had no idea what sort of aeroplane it was, nor even if it was a friend or a foe, but in their cheerless billets they guessed that the regularity of its passage indicated something of enormous importance, and burned joss-sticks to placate the demons so that it would not concern them.

Since telephones were almost unheard of in the area, and communication could only be carried on by telegraph along the railway or the river or by means of a man on a horse or a bicycle or even on foot, it was impossible to be forewarned of the approach of the Kwei bomber. But fitting an extra tank increased the cruising range of the Avro and allowed them a wider coverage of the sky, and they flew high enough to feel the cold, singing as they searched or, when the immensity of the heavens seemed too heavy a weight, brooding through the entire flight in silence, obsessed, hoping and praying for the sight of that one small insect-like dot sidling towards them that would indicate where Kwei’s bomber flew.

When they returned, chilled and stiff, they ate quickly and turned to work on the Farman and the Fokker, absorbed, so concentrated on what they were trying to do that Ellie returned almost unnoticed from Shanghai.

She was in good spirits and seemed to have recovered completely from Fagan’s death As she had promised, she had deposited every penny of the insurance money in the bank in their joint account.

‘We’re in the money, kids,’ she said, smiling.

Ira and Sammy, not long down with the Avro, were working on the Fokker, both growing daily more involved with the search for Kwei’s bomber. They nodded and exchanged a few brief words, and as they returned to their work, Ellie’s face fell. She’d been looking forward to returning and had expected to be welcomed, and the two stubborn tired faces that greeted her knocked all the enthusiasm out of her. No one had any time to talk much and she began to suffer from the frustration of having news no one would listen to. But she said nothing as they turned to, between flights, to help Lawn with the damaged machines and tired motors, interrupting them only to pour their coffee and light their cigarettes. Almost unnoticed, Tsu’s ridiculous little war had been stepped up and grown deadly serious.

At night, when they returned to the bungalow, they wanted only to sleep and neither Ellie nor Mei-Mei saw much of them. Mei-Mei had little to say--her affair with Sammy seemed to be going through a certain amount of difficulty--but out at the field, Ellie finally rebelled.

‘What’s the goddam hurry?’ she asked loudly. ‘Don’t we ever get to rest?’

For a moment there was silence in the dope-and oilsmelling interior of the marquee where they’d wheeled the Fokker, then Ira smiled and, seeing the tension relax, Sammy smiled too.

Ellie was watching them, her eyes big and angry.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘What
is
the goddam hurry?’

Ira drew a deep breath. ‘Sorry, Ellie,’ he said. ‘It’s begun to get hold of us.’

‘You’re telling me, it’s begun to get hold of you.’

‘It’s not just that.’ Ira tried to explain the idea that had been growing at the back of his mind. ‘One day Tsu’s going to lose interest in aeroplanes because he doesn’t know the first thing about them. And when he does I’m hoping the Avro’ll still be around and serviceable so I can buy it back. As for the Fokker, it’s no good for transport but a hell of a lot of good for what I’m doing now.’

For a while her eyes moved over his face, then she nodded.

‘O.K., Ira,’ she said, ‘you’re the boss.’

As soon as they had replaced the lost parts of the Farman’s engine, she took it over and restarted the training programme, pushing the ancient machine to the limit and working herself on the always-dubious rigging with Lawn and Wang.

They got the Fokker repaired and re-rigged at last and Ira stared round at the sky. Clouds had begun to appear to the north, small puff balls as yet, broken and torn by a wind in the upper spheres, all garish colours in the soft lavender of the evening.

‘I’ll test her straight away,’ he said. The weather’s breaking and I want to get this job over before it’s too late.’

The following morning, he filled the Spandau belts himself, selecting and measuring each cartridge carefully. One faulty bullet could mean a split case and a jammed gun, and if Kwei’s bomber were half as good as Cheng seemed to think it was, it might be a good idea to take no chances of that kind.

Ellie’s eyes were worried as she watched him.

‘Ira . . she began, then, as he looked up, she half-turned, unable to meet his eyes.

‘Go on, Ellie,’ he prompted.

‘Hell, it’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Only--only, for God’s sake, Ira, let’s have no more dying. Take care of yourself. You’re the reliable sort of guy who gives meaning to the world for people like me.’

She was on the field as he left, her eyes troubled, her fingers nervous with her cigarette. The routine of patrol started all over again, and from time to time they even tried sending out the Avro with Sammy at the controls and Cheng in the rear cockpit, with Ira waiting in the sun, hoping it would bring out Kwei’s plane. But Kwei’s advisers seemed to suspect a trap and nothing happened, though they continued to hear the occasional thud of bombs at night and Sammy got news from Mei-Mei, who picked it up in the market, that Tsu’s troops were beginning to sneak off to join Kwei.

‘A whole regiment cut and run the other day, Ira,’ he said. ‘Any day now, Tsu’ll take off for Shanghai before they capture him.’

Lao stopped coming and they put it down to sheer frustration, until Tsu himself turned up, with his son in the car beside him, to insist on results.

The bombs continue to fall,’ Lao interpreted icily. The General insists that the enemy machine is destroyed.’

The following day, acting on an idea of Sammy’s, they picked up Kee and went to see Tsu’s artillery commander. Colonel Tong.

Tell him,’ Ira said to Kee, ‘that I want one gun from every battery mounted so it will fire into the air.’

There was a lot of high-pitched Chinese chatter, and Kee turned.

‘Colonel Tong says that the guns will never be able to hit the enemy aeroplane. They are too old and the rifling is worn smooth.’

Tell him I don’t want to hit the bloody aeroplane,’ Ira snorted. ‘I just want them to fire into the air. So that the shells explode at extreme range.’

There was more chattering, then Kee turned, grinning. ‘I say, the Colonel thinks the illustrious airman has jolly well gone off his head,’ he said.

Ira grinned with him. ‘Tell him if he’ll help me I’ll help him. I want to stop Kwei dropping bombs, but Kwei’s fly-devil is very crafty and I’m never in the right place at the right time, and I can’t see him against the cloud because there isn’t any real cloud yet and there won’t be for another month when the rains come, and then it won’t be possible to fly. But’--he gestured--’if I wait high in the sky and Colonel Tong’s guns fire whenever they see Kwei’s fly-devil near, then I shall see the shell bursts and know where to search.’

He seemed to get his idea across at last and Colonel Tong began to smile his gold-toothed smile. They stayed for a meal of chicken and rice and drove off again, half-drunk on samshui.

‘Sammy,’ Ira said. ‘I think perhaps we’ve turned the corner.’

For three days Ira took off four times a day, cruising at fifteen thousand feet, waiting for a sign of Tong’s shells, and he had just begun to think that his scheme was not going to work when he saw a puff ball of smoke to the east, white against the evening purple of the land. Immediately he went into a long slow dive, his eyes staring towards the shrouded earth.

Pushing up his goggles to see better, he peered beyond the windscreen, feeling the cool autumn wind burn his face and flatten his cheeks, but it was too late in the evening and the camouflage of the land hid Kwei’s machine.

As he banked towards Tsosiehn, he suddenly realised how weary he was becoming and how badly he needed a rest. Flying could be a tiring business and he had been at it solidly now for over a fortnight, the rattle of the wind and the drumming of the motor beating at his nerve-ends. And in their efforts to keep the old machines flying there had not even been a pause when he’d been down on the ground.

Three days later, still brooding and grim, he jumped as he saw the puff of smoke again, where one of Tong’s shells exploded below him, but once more the light was bad and he found nothing. The following day, however, he at last saw the flash of wings against the ground, though Kwei’s plane was already streaking for home and too far away to be identified.

When he landed, tired and unshaven and edgy, he started up the Crossley and went to question Colonel Tong and beg him not to lose heart. The gold smile was thin, however, and not very warm.

‘The Colonel is worried,’ Kee said. ‘He cannot continue to have one gun from each battery pointing in the air. He has not the ammunition and Kwei’s troops trouble him.’

Ira gestured. ‘Tell him to keep trying just a little longer.’ The following evening, with the first darkening rain clouds of autumn beginning to appear along the horizon, Ira saw the shell bursts and the flash of wings again, and this time, he dropped in a steep dive, hoping to get below the other aeroplane so he could see it against the sky. Another puff of smoke appeared over the loop of the river where it curved towards Hwai-Yang and he saw the flash of the sun on the underside of an aeroplane’s wings.

For the first time he saw Kwei’s aircraft and the hair on the backs of his hands began to prickle with anticipation. It was an old De Havilland Four bomber, a machine long out of date but sturdy and powerful and still being used all over the world for transport. It was banking slowly over one of Tsu’s villages and Ira saw the flash as the bomb landed among the houses. The pilot clearly hadn’t seen him, and lazily, catching the late sun that peered through tumultuous clouds, the De Havilland levelled off.

Ira put the Fokker into a climb again towards the east in an attempt to get between the De Havilland and its base, his heart in his mouth, all the old excitement of the stalk gripping him. He saw the De Havilland bank again and the flash of another bomb in the huddle of buildings, then it levelled off once more and swung in a wide loop east. Kwei’s supplies were clearly as sparse as Tsu’s and he wondered if his foreign advisers were having as much difficulty in keeping their old machines flying as General Tsu’s were.

The De Havilland was heading directly east now and Ira put the Fokker into a long curving dive towards it. The De Havilland grew larger and larger in front of him, then the observer saw the Fokker descending and as he hammered on the fuselage behind the pilot and pointed, the big machine turned abruptly towards the west. Swinging in a tight bank behind it, Ira saw the observer’s guns jerk round and he climbed at once, wires singing, heading to the east and banking for another dive. The other pilot saw him coming again and swung further west in the direction of a village called Hakau, and it dawned on Ira that if he could continue with these manoeuvres there was a chance of forcing the De Havilland down in friendly territory where they might salvage something worth having.