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.The state of Western Sahara was not so lawless as Somalia, of course, but it was still a disputed state and vast swathes of this desert land were devoid of anything approaching order or authority.It meant that crossing its border and landing without interference were straightforward.The aircraft came to a halt near a small, sandstone-coloured domed building, twice the height of a man and four times as wide.Parked outside the structure was a very old truck, in the back of which sat two men.Their skin was much darker than that of the Somalis, their faces less emaciated – plump, almost.Like the East Africans, these two wore heavy clothing despite the furnace-like heat, but the clothes were more colourful – tie-dyed shirts and bright trousers.They were both smoking cigarettes.Only when the plane doors opened and Khan stepped out did they even acknowledge its existence, but once they did, they worked with sudden and surprising efficiency, jumping down and, without even being asked, carefully carrying the flight case down from the aircraft and into the back of the truck.Khan didn’t say a word to the pilot, nor to the two men, as he stepped up to the passenger seat of the truck.One of the two men retook his position out back; the other took the steering wheel; and within minutes of having landed, Habib Khan was leaving the airstrip and travelling down a long straight road surrounded by clay-coloured desert sands that shimmered in the heat.He was relieved when, after half an hour of silent, sweltering travel, he saw the blue of the ocean sparkling in the distance.The driver smelled of sweat and dirt, and made an unpleasant companion.The road led them into a small settlement – nothing more than four or five huts and a rickety pier that protruded about fifty metres out to sea.And at the end of the pier was a boat.By any standards of the wealthy it wasn’t a particularly impressive-looking vessel.The best that could be said of it was that it was seaworthy.But that didn’t stop it from being an object of considerable interest to the small crowd – mostly children, but also a few adults – who had congregated at the shore end of the pier to gawp at it.They were paying the boat so much attention that two of the crew had seen fit to stand guard – well armed – at the far end of the pier to deter any opportunists.They were wise to have done so.As Khan stepped through the crowd, flanked by his two companions – one of whom was carrying the flight case – he sensed undercurrents.Even the children were restless.The sooner he loaded the device on to the boat, the better.He walked swiftly down the pier.The armed guards were expecting him, of course.They stood aside as Khan and his companions approached the boat to be met by the skipper.He was a lanky man, with greased-back red hair and freckles on his white skin.He nodded at the man carrying the flight case and allowed him to step on board.‘Down below,’ he instructed.‘They’ll show you where to put it.’The man disappeared and the skipper looked towards Khan.‘You won’t be late?’ Khan enquired.‘You understand that your payment depends on my package arriving on time?’‘Don’t worry about it, my friend.’ The man had a pronounced Irish accent.‘The weather conditions are fine and this little baby’s a lot faster than she looks.We’ll hit land early, if anything.O’Callaghan’s boys will be waiting for us, you can be sure of that.’ He looked pointedly towards the crowd on the shore.‘If it’s all the same with you, though, we’ll be making a move.We don’t want the natives getting ugly, now do we?’‘Indeed not,’ Khan replied mildly.‘But before you go, a word of advice.’‘Go ahead.I always listen to advice, even if I don’t always take it.’‘You would be wise,’ Khan said in a flat voice, ‘to take this advice.I understand that you and your men might be inquisitive types.But do not let that inquisitive nature get the better of you.This is not O’Callaghan’s regular commodity.It would be extremely foolish for you to open that case, or to tinker with it in any way.’The skipper gave him a sharp look.‘Care to tell me what we’re transporting?’‘No,’ Khan said.‘I do not.But I trust you will heed my warning and reflect on the fact that you are being well paid for this small voyage.’ He looked over his shoulder at the crowd.‘It would be a good idea if you left now,’ he said.‘You can never tell what is just around the corner in these parts of the world.’And without another word Khan turned and walked back down the pier.By the time he hit the shore the boat was slipping away, and the crowd had already lost interest.It took three hours for Khan’s companions to take him from the village with the pier to the city of Dakhla.Three long, hot hours across arid and featureless terrain that rolled out as far as he could see.More than once, the driver had to stop and pour bottled water into the engine’s steaming radiator.‘You are sure the vehicle will get us there?’ Khan asked when it happened for the second time, unable to hide the anxiety he felt.The man just grunted and continued to pour the water.It was late in the afternoon when the relentless sand gave way to a smattering of buildings, the total absence of life to the occasional black-clothed Bedouin and their thin, filthy-looking livestock.Khan knew that these buildings must indicate the outskirts of Dakhla: this country was so sparsely populated that you were only likely to come across settlements on the edges of what passed as cities.They would not be travelling, however, into the city itself.Khan had no business there.Instead, their tedious, uncomfortable road took them to the airport on the edges of the city – a busier place than the strips he had been used to over the last twenty-four hours, but still a poor shadow of the major hubs of the First World.The airport was made up of a number of modern concrete blocks surrounded by a perimeter road that was newly tarmacked.There were lorries driving up and down, and the occasional rundown white minibus full of passengers that wouldn’t have looked out of place in any African city.By the side of this road was a hotel.This too was made of concrete.Two palm trees had been planted outside, perhaps in an attempt to make it look a little more welcoming.The driver parked outside, then escorted Khan into the hotel where the reception was cavernous and entirely empty apart from the receptionist [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]