The two soldiers stared stupidly, eyes widening in horror, their rifles still slung from their shoulders and died that way as a machine pistol smashed through the window and cut them down in two long bursts.

There was a kind of silence and Tufik was the first to speak, the words falling over themselves to get out. “I was worried, terribly worried. I thought you weren’t coming, that something might have gone wrong.”

Burke ignored him. He came forward slowly and leaned over me. “Stacey?” he said and touched my cheek gently with his left hand. “Stacey?”

There was pain on his face, something I had never seen before, and then that terrible killing rage for which he was so notorious. He turned on Tufik.

“What have you done to him?”

Tufik’s eyes widened. “What have I done, Effendi? But I am the one who has made all this possible.”

“I’ve just decided I don’t like your prices.”

The Browning swept up, Tufik cried out in fear and cowered in the corner. I shook my head and said weakly, “Leave him alone, Sean, he could have been worse. Just get me out of here.”

There was a momentary hesitation and then the Browning disappeared inside the robe. Tufik slid down on to his knees and started to cry weakly.

I might have known who the other two would be. Piet Jaeger, the South African, one of the few survivors of our old company in the Katanga campaign, and Legrande, the ex O.A.S. man Burke had recruited in Stanleyville when we had re-formed. Jaegar was driving Husseini’s Land-Rover and Legrande helped Burke lift me into the back seat. Nobody said very much and there was obviously some kind of time-table in operation.

Fuad was still quiet as the grave when we drove out along the so-called coast road, passing the column of prisoners marching in from their day’s work on the way.