‘Askander? I’m coming in. I’ll leave my weapons at the door.’
I enter, palms held up, into the compound. Askander is there waiting, his men around him, and they lead me to a room shaded from the harsh soon.
‘Put your hands down, friend,’ Askander says. ‘Sit.’
‘I warned you not to do this,’ I say, accepting tea from one of the women, a cousin or niece. ‘You should release those hostages to me.’
‘I cannot do that,’ says Askander. ‘They are the currency with which I will buy my brother’s freedom.’
‘The brass is done dealing with you, Askander,’ I look him dead in the eye, so he can see I’m not lying. ‘They told me not to speak to you. They wanted me to take my men and come in here to kill everybody. I am disobeying a direct order to be here. This is me finished and quite possibly dead, and you my friend are certainly dead.’
Askander doesn’t flinch at that. You join a revolution and you soon come to peace with the inevitable. ‘Then why are you here?’
‘They won’t spare your men but they might let your women and children go, if you turn the hostages over.’
‘What if I take you as well?’
‘No good, I’m afraid. I’ve pissed them off one too many times.’
‘Then your commanders are as much your enemy as they are mine.’
My smile is rueful. ‘They have my pension though, Askander. My wife needs it.’
‘Then what are we to do?’
‘Give me the hostages. I walk out. Your women and children come with me.’
‘And my men?’
‘You do what you’ve been doing this whole time,’ I say. ‘You fight.’
Paddy Dobson
11th October 2023