Sail Away, A Look Inside

THE TWO MEN SAT OPPOSITE EACH OTHER in the dimly lit bar, occupying a corner of the room where it was difficult to be seen or heard. The taller and slimmer of the two was wearing a tailor-made, two-piece white cotton suit, a pale-blue open-neck shirt and sported a pair of blue-tinted glasses pushed back over his silvery-white hair, carrying the appearance of a person not normally seen in this part of the world, let alone in this sort of place.

The other, a stocky and much shorter man, wore a crop of dark, almost black hair and a similarly dark beard to match. He was dressed more casually, wearing an open-neck, collarless shirt, a thin woollen cardigan, dark trousers, and brown sandals. The man in white was drinking black Moroccan coffee with brandy, while his companion was drinking Casablanca beer from the bottle.

It was early evening, and although it was only the beginning of May, the day had been dry and hot. The men had arranged to meet at the Mambo bar in this, the least conspicuous, part of the town. Most importantly, it was quiet.

“So, my friend, you are looking for further recruits for your organisation and the finances to support such a campaign?” the man in the white suit enquired.

“Yes, that is so.”

“And what do I get in return for investing in your organisation?”

“The use of all our training facilities and eventually, the full use of our own private army,” the casually dressed man replied.

“I may have the need for a small army, or at least a part of one in the months ahead,” the man in the suit mumbled, half to himself and half to his friend while waiving to the barman.

The barman stopped wiping the top of the bar with the cloth he had been drying glasses with earlier. He came over to where the two men were sitting. Normally, he would not wait on tables; it was not that kind of place and he was not that kind of barman. But these two were different; he knew one of them well and had heard much about the other.

“Same again,” the man in the white suit ordered.

The barman went to the bar to replenish their deinks while the two men waited in silence. The barman returned with their drinks to leave them once again to continue their conversation in relative peace. The smartly dressed man took a clean hankie from the top breast pocket of his suit and wiped the rim of his brandy glass.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “I may need the services of a small private army in the coming months. So, what are your requirements?”

“We already have forty men. They are good men but they need further training and we need more, maybe a dozen, and guns with ammunition, plus clothing. We also need about half a dozen qualified mercenaries to train them further. Most importantly, if you want them to perform well, they need to be paid…and paid well.”

“Sounds like a lot of money, my friend.”

“Nothing of quality comes cheap,” the casually dressed man replied. “Especially something on a scale such as this, but it will pay off in the long run, I can promise you. There are people who will pay a small fortune to hire an army of what will eventually be the quality and magnitude to which I have described.”

“I could build an army of my own for the sort of money I am guessing you will be asking.”

“Yes, but mine is halfway there. Three-quarters trained, and anyway, do you have the time and most importantly, the resources and the contacts? Remember, you will have to start from scratch.”

“Of course, you are right; time is not on my side,” the smartly dressed man replied, knowing that the other man was correct.

“So, how long to get this army up and running in first class order? And I’m talking nothing but the best, especially if I’m going to be paying.”

“About four months; it shouldn’t take much longer. And I entirely agree. Both of us want nothing but the best.”

“So, how much are you asking?”

“I would say, about a million.”

“A million what; yen, lira, marks—”

“Dollars,” the other man interrupted. “Maybe a little more.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Not for someone like you.”

“If I agree, I will need to have some say in the running of the operation.”

“That will not be a problem; after all, we are both after the same end result. I will introduce you to the most senior of my men and inform them that you are greatly assisting in the financing of our little operation. That way, you know you will have their loyalty and support.”

“And what security do I get?” the smartly dressed man asked.

“The security you will receive, my friend will be the fact that you are holding the purse strings.”

“We will meet again in approximately two weeks’ time,” the man in the white suit said. “In the meantime, you can make arrangements for my visit to your training facilities. If I like what I see, we will have a deal.”

“That I will do, and contact you when the arrangements have been made,” the other man replied.

“Oh, and if I agree, the arrangement will be that I will transfer a quarter of a million dollars to your account on the first of each month for four months. After this time, I will review my position.”

“In two weeks then.”

The smartly dressed man paid for their drinks and left the bar first, silhouetted by the setting sun, his companion following a short while later.

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