The Quest: A Novel

it to him.
    He gave the canteen to Vivian, and she drank, but then seemed uncertain who to pass it to. Old lover? New lover? She gave it to Gann. He drank and passed it to Mercado, who drank and held it out for Purcell to take.
    Purcell finished the last few ounces, then suggested to Mercado, “Give Vivian your shirt for her head.”
    Mercado seemed angry at being told by Purcell to be a gentleman, and he snapped, “Give her your own shirt.”
    Purcell would have, if he’d had a shirt, but he had a
shamma
, and no underwear, and he didn’t want to bring that up. He stared at Mercado, who started to unbutton his khaki shirt.
    But Gann had already taken off his uniform shirt and handed it to Vivian, who said, “Thank you,” and draped it over her head.
    Purcell understood Mercado’s anger, but it amazed him that the man could hold on to it while he was contemplating a firing squad or worse. But on second thought, men are men. He thought, too, that if he had a chance to do last night over, he’d do the same thing, but twice. No regrets. He wondered if he could convince Mercado that what happened last night was God’s will.
    He looked at Vivian sitting at the side of the ravine, closer to Mercado than to him. They made eye contact, and she held it, then looked away.
    He wondered what she was thinking or feeling. Probably he’d never know, and that was just as well.
    Another group of soldiers appeared at the top of the ravine, and it was obvious that something was going to happen, and probably not anything good.
    Vivian suddenly moved closer to Mercado and grabbed his arm. “Henry…”
    Mercado appeared more aware of the soldiers, thought Purcell, than of Vivian’s hold on him. Purcell could hear her say softly, “I love you… please forgive me.”
    Mercado seemed to notice her for the first time, and he hesitated, then asked, “Are you truly sorry?”
    “I am.”
    “Then I will forgive you.”
    She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.
    Purcell assumed that Mercado’s absolution didn’t include him, even if he asked for it, but he didn’t think he needed forgiveness, so he didn’t ask. He did, however, want to say something to Vivian, in case this was the last time they’d see each other. But what he wanted to say, he couldn’t say, so he turned away and looked at the soldiers, who were speaking rapidly and glancing down at the prisoners at the bottom of the ravine.
    Mercado spoke some Amharic, but he seemed preoccupied, so Purcell asked Gann, “Can you understand what they’re saying?”
    “A bit… I think you three are going to be taken somewhere else.”
    “Why do you think that?”
    “The leg shackles are for traveling, old boy. When they tie your hands behind your back, you know you’re not going far.”
    Purcell knew this made sense, but he pointed out, “Your legs are also shackled, Colonel.”
    “Yes, I noticed. Can’t say why, though.”
    Henry and Vivian seemed oblivious to what was going on, but then one of the soldiers shouted to them, “Come! Come!” He motioned for all of them to climb out of the ravine.
    They all looked at one another, then stood and began climbing up the slope, dragging their chains with them as the soldier kept shouting, “Come! Come!”
    They reached the top of the ravine and stood among the soldiers, who seemed indifferent to them. Purcell noticed that in the distance, where he’d spotted the helipad, an American-made Huey sat with its rotor spinning.
    The soldier in charge pointed to the helicopter and shouted, “Go! Go!”
    Purcell looked at Gann, expecting that he’d be pulled aside, but one of the soldiers gave Gann a push and shouted, “Go!”
    Vivian and Mercado joined hands and began running as fast as their chains allowed. Purcell and Gann followed. Four soldiers accompanied them, urging them to move faster. Vivian stumbled and Mercado helped her up, and they continued toward the helicopter.
    Vivian and Mercado reached the open door of the aircraft and were pulled aboard. As Purcell got closer, he could see a large red star painted on the olive drab fuselage—the red star of the revolution, which he knew covered the old emblem of the Lion of Judah.
    Gann scrambled aboard without help, and Purcell followed.
    Vivian called out over the noise of the engine and rotors, “Pilot says we’re going to Addis!” She flashed a big smile and shouted, “
Avanti!
”
    The helicopter lifted, pivoted, and headed south toward