The Burning Sky by Jack Ludlow

and that means national ruin.’
    ‘The place to do that is in Europe, not Africa.’
    ‘What if one of them fell?’
    ‘Hitler is a very long shot, Peter. The Germans are efficient at everything, dictatorship included. Damn near every voice that could be raised against him has been either eliminated or incarcerated. If there’s a communist left in a place like Hamburg, they are keeping their heads down and the population are doing likewise, because the only thing you get when you protest is either a visit at midnight or a bullet.’
    Lanchester smiled. ‘Which leaves old fatso. If Mussolini can be held up in Ethiopia, he’s not that secure at home.’
    ‘You sure about that?’
    ‘Christ almighty, Cal, it’s Italy – no one is ever secure there.’
    ‘Italy,’ Jardine pointed out and with some emphasis, ‘isat this moment more stable than our supposed main ally, France.’
    ‘Never could rely on the Frogs, could we, really? Always moaning. Too damned sensitive, and as for those miserable paysan blighters who sought to rob us blind in the Pas de Calais …’
    ‘I’m rather fond of the French.’
    ‘Then, old boy, and not for the first time, you go against the grain.’
    ‘So, Peter, do we have a plan?’
    ‘Are you saying yes to the endeavour?’
    ‘No, I am saying do we have a plan?’
    ‘It would be more accurate to say we have an intention. As I intimated in Hamburg, and I am sure I have reiterated here, great caution must be taken to avoid contamination for certain people. Their role is in discreet finance, extensive contacts and the provision of the necessary services.’
    Jardine knew what that meant; right now there was nothing, and if there was ever going to be anything, he would have to create it, which was a far-from-attractive prospect. Against that he was now at a loose end and a man who had an abhorrence of inactivity. Being in London made him uncomfortable also: there were too many unhappy memories here.
    ‘So tell me what you do have.’
    Lanchester obliged and in doing so added some sobering thoughts to the mind of Callum Jardine. The Eyeties had completely rebuilt the port of Massawa in Eritrea, turning it from a wooden jetty into a modern facility, and they were using that to pour in troops, arms and vehicles totheir main base at Asmara. They had built good roads both to their capital, as well as to the Ethiopian border and also constructed an airbase big enough to cater for their three-engined bombers.
    Having been defeated by the Ethiopians some forty years previously at the Battle of Adowa – held in Italy to be a crushing national humiliation – it seemed they were taking no chances this time. It was going to be massive force and modern weaponry against what could only be an ill-equipped native army, with the aim of total conquest.
    ‘There’s no way enough arms can be smuggled in to face that, Peter, at least of the level required. You’re talking about tanks and artillery. Only governments can do that.’
    ‘True, what we are doing is tokenism, really.’
    ‘Then why do it?’
    The place was filling up with those who had finished their grub; the armchairs would now be occupied by old buffers in need of a postprandial nap, and this forced Lanchester to lower even his previous whisper – his head was now very close to that of his companion.
    ‘It will help to save our blushes in the future and, who knows, the fuzzy-wuzzies might make the Italians pay a very high price for success, maybe even too high a price. Imagine if the buggers came unstuck … but even holding them up might do. I doubt Mussolini can either take his time or lose too many men, given the people he leads have no greater appetite for conflict than we do in Blighty.’
    ‘An attitude they share for a very good reason. Their donkeys were far worse generals than even our lot. The Italian army lost more men on the Izonso river front thanwe did at the Somme. What are their forces like now?’
    ‘Navy looks