The Quest: A Novel Part 45

Purcell pointed out, "He was when he sent this."

"Don't be a pessimist. Open it."

"We need a drink first."

Mercado signaled a waiter and ordered a bottle of Mot, saying to his companions, "We're either celebrating something, or we need to drown our troubles in champagne."

"I like the way you think, Henry."

Vivian said, "Out of ninety-two photographs, there are only six circled locations that fit our criteria." She listed the criteria: "Palm trees, and/or a glint, in a location that is not too close to the fortress or to the spa, or the road, or to any place that would not be a likely location of a hidden monastery." She continued, "Only one photo has all three-palms, a glint, and a likely location."

Mercado suggested, "But we may have our criteria wrong."

"In fact," said Purcell, "we may have talked ourselves into palms and glints, so we need to look at the photos with a fresh eye in the morning."

Mercado informed them, "I need to go to work tomorrow to justify our existence here."

Purcell reminded him, "You're on the payroll. The rest of us are working for room and board."

They discussed photo a.n.a.lysis for a while, and their next recon flight over the area.

Purcell looked at Vivian, then at Mercado. There had definitely been a new spring in Henry's step since that morning. But interestingly, Vivian seemed the same. In fact, at breakfast on the morning of his flight with Signore Bocaccio, which would have been soon after Vivian had s.e.x with Henry, she had seemed herself-as though she'd put the encounter in a file drawer and forgot about it.

And then she'd invited Purcell to have s.e.x with her.

It was possible, however, that nothing of a penetrating nature had happened. He was certain he would not have been happy to see what did happen in Henry's bedroom, but it might have fallen short of a legal definition of cheating on your boyfriend.

Henry, however, seemed to be happy with whatever had happened, even if the object of his affection didn't seem so moved by the experience.

He looked again at Vivian, who was chatting happily with her old friend.

In Vivian's mind, all was now right with her world, and they could all be friends, and continue with their mission here, which to Vivian was far more important than two h.o.r.n.y men. No doubt she loved Frank Purcell, and he loved her, so now he had to decide what to do about what she had done.

Two waiters appeared with a wine bucket, fluted gla.s.ses, and a bottle of Mot & Chandon, which one of them displayed to Mercado. He p.r.o.nounced the year magnifique, and told his companions, "This is on the newspaper."

Purcell suggested, "Tell them you entertained a member of the Derg."

"I always do."

The headwaiter popped the cork, which caused some heads to turn, then filled the flutes.

Henry held up his gla.s.s and proposed, "To us, and to Sir Edmund, and to our journey."

They drank and Vivian said, "Ooh. I love it."

Mercado suggested, "We will take a bottle with us on the road, and pop it when we see the black monastery in the jungle."

Purcell warned him, "That might be the last alcohol you ever see."

"Nonsense. The monks drink wine."

They finished their gla.s.ses and Mercado refilled them.

Purcell said, "Okay, one more flight to Gondar, and on the way we will check out whatever we've circled on the photographs. With any luck, we will be able to narrow the circles down to a few, or we will see something else that may be of interest. In any case, we will land in Gondar and go to the Goha Hotel. We'll shop for provisions without attracting too much attention, then we will spend the night, then get in the Land Rover with the driver and security man, and tell them we are hiking. We'll get dropped off near the spa, tell the driver to meet us there in six hours, and we are off on our quest. First stop is Shoan."

Mercado and Vivian processed all that, and Mercado said, "I think we should go first to the places in the photographs that are possibly what we're looking for."

"I don't want to traipse around the jungle for a week or two." He reminded Mercado, "That is rough country, old man, and I don't just mean the terrain. We want to minimize the walking, and not use up our provisions."

Mercado replied, "I've done this sort of thing before, Frank."

"Good. Then you agree." He continued, "The Falashas may be more helpful than those photographs."

"They may be the opposite of helpful-or they may all be gone."

Vivian said, "Our first objective should be the spa." She reminded them, "We said we'd bring back a relic... a bone of Father Armano."

"You carry the bone." He also said, "I will call Signore Bocaccio tonight about the availability of the plane. I'd like to go tomorrow."

Mercado thought about that, then asked, "Are you saying that we're leaving the aircraft in Gondar?"

"Well, it's not going to fly itself back." He a.s.sured Mercado, "I'll telex Signore Bocaccio from the Goha and let him know he can pick up his plane in Gondar, and keep our security deposit."

Neither Mercado nor Vivian replied.

"I don't think we'll be needing Mia one way or the other after we leave Gondar on our journey."

Again, no one responded.

Purcell further explained, "There is no reason for us to return here. We don't need any more photographs developed, and it is time we moved forward-before we get shut down by the authorities or by something outside our control." He looked at Mercado and Vivian. "Caesar crossed the Rubicon and burned his bridges behind him. And that is what we will do tomorrow."

Mercado said, "We should see what Sir Edmund has written to us. That may influence what we do next."

"Let's first have our own plan."

"All right, Frank. We have a plan. Now please open the envelope."

Purcell glanced around to see if anyone was paying too much attention to them, then tore open the envelope. He extracted a single piece of paper and looked at it.

Vivian asked, "What does it say?"

"It is... a poem." He smiled, then said, "t.i.tled, 'The Explorer.' "

Mercado said, "That's Kipling, if you don't know."

"Thank you." He read, "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges-Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!"

He looked up at Mercado and Vivian.

They stayed silent, then Vivian asked, "Is that it?"

"That is it-except for the signature."

Mercado asked, "Did Sir Edmund sign it?"

"Actually, no, and neither did Rudyard Kipling." He glanced at the signature and said, "It is signed, I. M. N. Sloan."

"Who?"

"You gotta say it fast, Henry."

Vivian said, "I am in Shoan."

Purcell pa.s.sed the note to her. "You win."

She looked at it, then gave it to Mercado.

Purcell said, "We will join Sir Edmund in Shoan."

Mercado had a dinner date and left them in the lounge. They sat without speaking for a while, then Vivian said, "I don't want dinner. Let's have a bottle of wine sent to our room."

Purcell replied, "You can have one sent to your room."

She didn't reply.

He stood and said, "Good night."

"Frank..."

He looked at her in the dim light and he could see tears running down her face.

She looked at him. "Do you understand?"

"I do."

"I'm sorry."

"We will all stay friends, until we leave Ethiopia."

She nodded.

He turned and left.

Chapter 42.

The Navion was available the next day for an overnight stay in Gondar and a return to Addis on the following day. Signore Bocaccio met them at the airport at noon to collect his rental fee and deliver the news. "This is unfortunately your last flight." He explained, "This is causing me worry."

"I'm the one flying this thing."

Signore Bocaccio smiled, then said seriously, "I want no trouble with the government."

"I understand."

He advised, "You, too, should be careful with the government. They will be curious about your flights to Gondar."

"We are journalists."

"There is a commercial flight once a week. So perhaps they will want to know why you need my aircraft."

"We don't want to spend a week in Gondar." Purcell asked, "How does that sound?"

"To me, it sounds good. To them... who knows?" He motioned toward Vivian and Mercado, who were standing near his aircraft. "You are nice people. Please be careful."

"We're not actually that nice." Purcell paid him in dollars for the two-day rental and informed him, "Some of your coffee was stolen in Gondar."

"It is there to be stolen."

"Right." He suggested to Signore Bocaccio that he meet them at the Hilton for dinner on their return from Gondar so that the Signore Bocaccio could release their security deposit.

"But you must let me buy you dinner, and I will keep the security deposit for the down payment on Mia." He smiled.

Purcell returned the smile and suggested, "Seven P.M., but check at the desk for a telex from us in case we are delayed getting out of Gondar."

The Italian looked at him. "Be careful."

"See you then."

Signore Bocaccio would actually be dining alone, but he had their two-thousand-dollar security deposit to keep him company-and also to pay for his commercial flight to Gondar to retrieve his aircraft.

Purcell was about to say arrivederci, but then said to Signore Bocaccio, "I have seen expats and colonials all over the world waiting for the right time to leave a place that has become unfriendly." He advised him, "That time has arrived."

Signore Bocaccio, the owner of coffee plantations and other things in Ethiopia, nodded. "But it is difficult. This is my home." He told the American, "I love Africa."

"It doesn't love you anymore."

He smiled. "It is like with a woman. Do you leave the woman you love because she is having difficulties with life?"

Purcell did not respond.

Signore Bocaccio informed Purcell, "My wife is Ethiopian. And my children. Would they be happy in Italy?"