So, I have to race off to the desert now, where my mission will be to stand around looking awkward, while the real captain of Raft 9 runs a drill for a theoretical event which may or may not happen at some point in the distant future. I have to focus, observe and remember, but not actually do anything myself, because let’s face it, I’m just the backup. No one will even notice me, not with him in the room. After all, he’s Captain Azerban, the man whose face is known all over Egypt. Hell, all over the world. The war hero who has been memorialized in two movies so far, at only fifty-three years of age. His booming voice will articulate some moving motivational speech that would make a truckie weep, and everyone will swoon. He’ll shout out scrupulous commands which they will all jump to follow without question. I’ll just be there because of some line in a risk management strategy that requires there to be an understudy. The ‘just in case’ contingency plan. And as the understudy, I have no real role or authority. I’m not the co-captain, or the second in command, just the backup. He had asked for me though, the war hero, so there was that. But I knew it didn’t mean much, at least not in the eyes of the crew.