"Sounds like frayed nerves," said Morgan. "Rebel foot-soldiers waiting to get off the leash. Losing control."
"You got it," Fredericks nodded. "I reckon we've got less than 24 hours before this thing goes down."
"How reliable is your man?" asked Morgan.
"You don't have to worry about Adam Garrett," Fredericks answered bluntly. "Ex-Royal Marine, Sergeant Major. I've sent him ahead to liaise with the US Navy over the evacuation plan and to prepare our staging point at the hotel. He's a good man."
"OK. So, what else has he said?" Morgan went on, impressed but not surprised that Fredericks had defended his man.
"Well, over the past two days there's also been movement out of the city by more Malfajiri Army officers known to be loyal to Baptiste. They've been abandoning their military posts and heading to the hills to join the rebels."
"Subtle," Morgan said.
"That's not the worst of it," Fredericks replied ominously. "The rebels have been establishing forming up positions at strategic locations all over the country. Take a look at this."
Mike Fredericks extracted a well-used map of Malfajiri from the side pocket of his Canadian Army-issue combat pants. He dropped to one knee, Morgan following suit. Fredericks spread the map out on the ground and began directing Morgan's attention to key points marked upon the map's plastic cover.
"Well, there's some real experience behind this plan, that's for sure," Morgan said. "They're preparing to launch."
"I agree, bud," Fredericks started drawing imaginary lines around the areas identified by Garrett as the launch points for the rebel coup. "This group's headed for the television and radio stations out to the north of the capital. This group is poised to take the airport and army garrison there, and this one to the west will take the port. And these guys," Fredericks emphasised, "are headed for the power station and the water supply out east."
"The power station and dam are within spitting distance of here," Morgan noted, concerned. "There's only about 30 K's separating us."
"You said it."
"Any idea how many men Baptiste has out there?"
"Can't be certain, but Garrett reckons 100 plus," Fredericks was grave. "That's a company worth of troops on our doorstep."
"It's not a stretch to expect they'll take the dam pretty easily, seize control of the country's power supply, leave a small contingent to secure it and then head north, straight to us. Any more good news?"
"Like I said, bud, 24 hours tops."
"Agreed," Morgan turned his attention back to the groups of expat and local staff as they all scampered around the site, getting everything together ahead of the evacuation order. He noticed a number of the expats offering personal effects to local staff who had run the domestic arrangements at Pallarup; some for many years. Strong personal ties had been formed and the prospect of leaving behind friends to an uncertain future was the source of much distress and anguish on both sides. The Malfajirian local staff would not be evacuated. "We better get this lot to wrap up and then get 'em fed before the kitchen gets shut down for good. Then they can rest before our final evacuation briefing tonight."
* * *
Arena Halls hadn't found anything even remotely suspicious amongst the mountains of files and paperwork she'd been poring over for most of the afternoon.
She'd managed to discreetly peel herself away from the main group at the end of Morgan's evacuation training session and had made her way to the head office complex under the pretence of checking on personnel files, specifically to check for any medical conditions that could cause problems during the evacuation.
She found herself thinking of Alex Morgan.
His experience and knowledge were obvious but understated, with not a hint of the bravado or egotism she'd expected. He'd been respectful and empathetic towards the expats throughout the training, every last one of them. He wasn't obnoxious or condescending and he had a very natural way of imbuing them with a sense of confidence in him and in the knowledge that he would get them out alive. Arena was warming to him, it wasn't hard; she knew herself well enough not to deny it.
Absently, with her thoughts elsewhere, she pulled out another filing cabinet drawer, but this time - too hard. With a loud clatter of loose roller wheels and slides, the drawer, heavy with files, crashed to a stop as it slid out. "Damn it!" she exclaimed.
"You should take it easy on those filing cabinets, Ms Halls," came an amused voice from behind her. "Turner's likely to invoice you for damages, you know."
"Oh shit," she started. "Where the bloody hell did you come from?" Morgan was sitting languidly, a few feet away, with legs outstretched,