The Mercenaries Read Online Free PDF Page A

thought for a moment of finding a job in an office somewhere, but he rejected it without really considering it, and climbing out of the aircraft again, walked back towards the hut. Sammy moved towards him out of the shadows
    ‘Mr. Penaluna. You all right?’
    ‘Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?’
    ‘I thought--I thought . .’
    Ira swung round to the puzzled face of the boy. ‘God, Sammy, you didn’t think I was going to sit in the plane and shoot myself or something, did you?’
    Sammy frowned, looking faintly irritated with him. ‘I didn’t know what to think, man.’ he said. ‘It ain’t every day a bloke goes bust.’
    Ira slapped his shoulder. ‘Well, you needn’t have worried,’ he said. ‘I don’t tick over like that, Sammy.’
    Sammy managed a twisted grin and Ira put an arm round his shoulders.
    ‘Sammy, you know what Foch said. “My centre’s giving way. My right is in retreat. Situation excellent. I shall attack.” Let’s go and find a drink. It’s not too late, even now, I’ll bet.’
    Sammy stared at him again, his expression changing slowly, then as Ira climbed into the car, his mouth split wide in his great grin and he started the engine and swung it round with a careless crash of gears, and went roaring across the field towards the road, the moonlit dust it trailed drifting slowly among the thorn trees and sparse grass.
     
    A week later, with the imminent and inevitable sale of the Avro hanging round their necks like a dead albatross, Sammy turned up at the airfield, his eyes sparkling with joy and affection, his expression mysterious and conspiratorial so that Ira knew immediately he had something up his sleeve. It was a special look Sammy always wore when he was about to announce anything of particular importance. He’d worn it when he’d arrived with the information that he’d found the Avro and he invariably wore it before announcing any modification he’d worked out. He was already an intelligent craftsman who could be relied on to think up advanced refurbishing as if it were part of the job, and his improvements had always been heralded by the look he wore now. He liked to savour his surprises and hated giving them away too soon.
    ‘Still no hope, boss?’ he asked.
    Ira shook his head. ‘You’ve seen the books,’ he said. ‘I went to the bank again. They wouldn’t play. If we stay here much longer there won’t even be an aeroplane to fly, because I’ll have to sell it to eat. You’d better start looking for a job. What are you going to do? Find some great fat millionaire and persuade him he needs a private aeroplane and you to fly it?’
    Sammy didn’t answer at once. ‘Perhaps you ought to fly for him instead,’ he said, pushing at the dust on Ira’s desk as though his life depended on it.
    Ira grinned. ‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘What is it? You’ve been looking like a sick calf for a couple of days now. What have you got on your mind?’
    Sammy looked up abruptly and grinned back at him. ‘A bloke,’ he said. ‘He’d heard of you. He might have a job for you.’
    ‘Doing what?’
    ‘Flying an aeroplane.’
    Ira stared. ‘Here?’
    ‘Perhaps not here.’
    ‘Why didn’t you grab the job?’
    ‘I couldn’t do it. That’s why.’
    Ira’s eyes narrowed. ‘Out with it, Sammy,’ he said.
    Sammy shrugged. ‘One of my cousins in Jo’burg told me about him. I’ve been writing round.’
    ‘Have you, by God? What this chap want?’
    Sammy shrugged ‘Perhaps we’d better let him tell you himself,’ he said. ‘I arranged for him to be here. In an hour. I went to see him in Moshi.’
    ‘Did you, by God? So that’s where you’ve been?’
    ‘I’m your friend, see, boss,’ Sammy said. ‘I’m your partner.’
    Ira stared at him and Sammy chuckled at his expression. ‘You ought to know that once a Jew gets his hands on the books you’ve got to make him a partner. He asked me to speak to you.’
    ‘Englishman?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘South