The Quest

Most shops and restaurants were closed, including an Italian restaurant that Mercado remembered. Soldiers with AK-47s patrolled the nearly deserted streets and looked them over as they passed by.

Vivian said, “This is creepy.”

Purcell suggested, “Tell them you know General Getachu.”

They found a food shop that sold bottled water and packaged food and they noted its location for when they needed to buy provisions.

There was an open outdoor café in a small square near a church, and they would have stopped for a beer, but six soldiers, who were undoubtedly Cuban, were sitting at a table watching them approach. One of them called out to the senorita, and Vivian blew them a kiss. They all laughed.

Purcell wanted to find the English missionary school where young Mikael Getachu got his ass whipped, but an old man who spoke Italian told Mercado, “It is now the army headquarters.”

Mercado suggested they skip that photo, and Purcell said, “Mikael is trying to work through some childhood issues.”

Inquiries about the best hotel in town led them to the Goha, near the Italian piazza. They asked for an English- or Italian-speaking person, and were escorted into the office of the hotel manager, Mr. Kidane, who spoke both languages.

They inquired about rooms for the near future, though the hotel seemed deserted, and also asked about renting a cross-country vehicle. Mr. Kidane informed them he could get his future guests a British Land Rover, but unfortunately, due to the unsettled situation, the price would be two hundred dollars American, each day. A driver and security man would be extra, and he recommended both. Mr. Kidane also required a two-thousand-dollar security deposit in cash-just in case the vehicle and his guests never returned, though he didn’t actually say that.

They took Mr. Kidane’s card with the Goha’s telex number. Purcell gave him a twenty-dollar bill for his trouble, and Mr. Kidane called them a taxi.

Purcell, Vivian, and Mercado headed back to the airport.

Vivian said, “That was fascinating.”

Mercado replied, “Someday, Gondar will be a tourist attraction. Now it is Getachu’s prize, if he can hold on to it.”

Purcell said, “It looks like we have our vehicle, and we can also get provisions in Gondar. But we have to act fast in case the fighting starts again.”

Mercado agreed. “These mountains have always been a place of desperate last stands.”

Purcell suggested, “We’ll make one more recon flight tomorrow or the next day, and if we still haven’t heard from Gann, we need to decide our next move.”

Everyone agreed, and they continued on to the airport, where Captain Sharew awaited them.

The Navion was still there, but Captain Sharew was happily not, so another kleptocrat took their fifty-thousand-lire takeoff fee, which Mercado paid while Purcell quickly filled out the flight plan.

Purcell didn’t mind the bribes; it was when the authorities stopped taking bribes that you had to worry.

The new officer wrote their takeoff time as 1:30 P.M., and advised them, “Do not deviate.” He then presented them with an outrageous bill for fuel, which needed to be paid in Western currency. Purcell said, “Your turn, Vivian.”

They got quickly into the Navion and noticed that two bags of coffee beans were missing, as well as the urine-filled carafe. Purcell hit the ignition switch and said, “I hope they left the spark plugs.”

The engine fired up and he taxied at top speed to the north end of the runway. He got a green light from the tower and pushed the throttle forward.

The Navion lifted off and he continued south, toward Addis Ababa.

A half hour out of Gondar, he took an easterly heading and said to Mercado, “Pass me the map that shows Shoan.”

“I do not want to be late into Addis.”

“We have tailwinds.”

Mercado passed him the map and Purcell studied it. He asked Mercado, “Do you have any interest in flying over Mount Aradam?”

Mercado did not reply, and Purcell did not ask him again.

Purcell found Shoan on the map, and looked at the terrain below, then turned farther east. He picked out the single-lane north-south road that they’d used when they were looking for the war and found the spa. He noticed on the map that Shoan was only about thirty kilometers east of the road, located on high ground that showed on the map as agricultural, surrounded by dense vegetation. If Gann was correct about the village supplying the black monastery with candles and sandals, then Shoan should be a day or two’s walk to the meeting place. The monastery, too, could be a day or two’s walk to this meeting place. Therefore, Shoan could be a four-day walk to the monastery. But in what direction?

He looked again at the terrain map. They had narrowed it down a bit, but the area was still thousands of square kilometers, and most of it, according to the maps, was covered with jungle and forest.

Vivian asked, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m looking for a black dot in a sea of green ink.”

“It’s down there, Frank. And we will find it.”