Rafe sidled up to Alfar at the bar, and asked sotto voce, "'ello Alfie. Mousa about? I've got an almost immediate opportunity to discuss with 'imself."
"Ah, Rafael Pasha!" Alfar said, "so good to see that those infidels of teh Buluwayo did not gedd you. Yes, mousa pasha is upstairs; he has heard of your troubles with teh Rogue infidels, and has been waqnting to0 strike back for troubles of his own. I think you will find he is receptif. Please to go up at your leisure."
Rafe nods, snags a drink from a passing waiter, and heads toward the bar, just as a Belgian marine gets too close to a Russian airman --or perhaps it was the other way around? No real matter, as both sides began breaking bottles and pulling shivs, shouting imprecations as the two collision-entangled men struggled.
Alfar raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and then led three of the club's bouncers into the fray, all of them brandishing cudgels. Bass saw immediately that the looming brawl could be more than even Mousa's bravos could handle (there were at least forty each of the Belgians and the Russians both), so he gulped down the rather excessively-dry martini, set the glass down, and then turned from the stairwell and waded into the fray as well, arriving just in time to pull the khukri and use the heavy rosewood handle with the full tang of the blade inside it to thump the heads of three Russians who were already moving their shivs toward Alfar's vulnerable back.
All three went down to sleep it off, then five Belgians tried teh ssame with one of the bouncers. Alfar took two, Bass one, and the bouncer took care of the rest, and then the cooler (and less-inebriated) heads from both sides were pulling the fighters apart and shooing them out of the exits as the Gendarmes arrived, the Maria clanging and the coppers' whistles shrieking. There was a nervous moment when Bass was nearly taken for a brawler, but both Alfar and the bouncers stood for him, and the moment passed. He acutrely felt the bulk and weight of the two grenades in his left jacket pocket and the three sticks of dynamite in another, and offered thanks to Jehovah, Allah, and anybody else who might be listening, for his deliverance and his friend's and his bravos solidarity. If the louies had searched me at the staion and found those... he fretted.
Later, he sat in Mousa's office, sharing a small cognac and discussing teh expedition and the logistics.
"As you suggest, Friend Rafael, we will have the fuel, and the bdearers, waiting in Walinga for your arrival. I agree that a Field Kitchen is a good idea, these Europeans are always shooting something and wanting to eat it afterward."
"Let's hope they don't shoot the ship, or that big Moor, what's his name , what's so good with the' lingo end of things. I think they might be a bit hard to digest," Bass joked.
Both chuckled briefly, then Mousa added, "I will also t'row in an ace to keep in the hole, in case transport becomes problematic."
"Lets make it a steam or a diesel rig this time, Mate, remember how that alkie two-banger went up over Victoria Falls?" Both men shuddered.