Hyena Dawn (48 page)

‘
Of course. Tell me about your dream and I’ll tell you what’s wrong.’

Sam recounted the dream, the memory of it still vivid in her mind. He listened intently, nodding his head occasionally. When she had finished he was silent for a few moments as he decided what to make of it.

‘
You realise that a nightmare only comes because you are unhappy or afraid? I thought maybe it was something to do with our present situation, but in fact it has nothing to do with this. There is someone you love, someone you need desperately and who you feel has been torn away from you. With that person gone, you are lost.’

The accuracy of what he said frightened her. He had understood her innermost feelings perfectly.

‘
Ah. I see the truth of the dream makes you silent. I think that you did not want to know the message. Is there a man you love whom you’re scared you’ve lost? He must be mad, if he is prepared to give you up. But forget about him for the moment, there is nothing you can do about this until you are away from here. Your worries will distract you. This man, I think he will come back to you.’

‘
I wish I had your confidence. He would never marry me.’

‘
Do not try to think for him. Think about yourself. There are few women who have your courage, it’s a rare quality. I want you to write your story, I want you to be happy. Forget him, he will not forget you so easily.’

‘
Thank you. I won’t disturb you again.’

‘
I’ll wake you when the darkness comes and we can go down to the sea.’

For a long time Tongogara stared into the distance, then he lay down next to Sam and fell into an uneasy sleep.

When twilight came they made their way silently towards the water. Now they were away from the road, the fuel tanks about five kilometres to their left. Sam could see their shapes on the horizon, ugly cylindrical forms that looked out of place in the African landscape. In the cover afforded by the dim light, Tongogara loped along almost casually, far less vigilant than before.

Soon darkness overtook them and Sam started to trip over roots and branches that Tongogara easily avoided. He slowed his pace to allow her to move more carefully. She noticed that his assault rifle was always at the ready. He might seem relaxed to her, but he wasn’t taking any chances. She had thought they would reach the water quite quickly, but she must have underestimated the distance; hours seemed to pass, and yet they were still apparently no closer to the shore. It was only at about ten o’clock that the ground started to slope downwards and the fresh smell of sea air assailed her nostrils.

Moments later they were on the sand, the water stretching out in front of them. Sam forgot the war and the purpose of their journey. The place was wonderfully romantic; she could imagine the thrill of the Portuguese navigators who had first ventured into these waters; she could imagine them seeing this verdant coastline for the first time, imagine the desire that must have welled up in them to explore the mysterious interior.

Perhaps she and Tongogara were the first people ever to walk on this particular stretch of beach. No lights were visible in the distance, there were no human sounds. She pulled off her outer clothes and waded out into the salty water. It was marvellously cool as it lapped against her limbs, her cuts stung as the salt worked its way into them. Immediately she felt refreshed.

Tongogara had first to remove the massive pack and all the ammunition he was carrying before he could go into the water. He came in next to her, and she shivered involuntarily. The deep masculine smell of him aroused her senses and she stared at his body. Until now she had always seen him in the familiar dark green camouflage uniform that left only his face and arms exposed. Now he was naked she saw that there was not an ounce of fat on him; his arms were enormous above the elbows and his neck latticed with cords of muscle; there were the marks of old wounds on his stomach; his hips were slim and sinewy. Her eyes dwelt on the area between his legs and the pride of his manhood. He stretched his arms upwards and then sank beneath the water, rising up quickly again as it cascaded off his body.

They did not speak. Instead he drew her close to him, and her arms clasped him instinctively. They kissed for a long time and she reached down with her left hand to guide him inside her.

The next moment her legs were round his torso and her hands dug into his flanks. He was bigger than she expected and she felt the pain as he penetrated deep within her. She hung her head back and sighed with joy; as the tension vanished from her body she knew that all along she had wanted him. She felt his body shudder as she worked herself against him, the orgasms running through her in waves of excitement. Then he climaxed, and she felt the deep, silent sigh within him. He let her down into the water slowly and she swam out, not caring about the risk of sharks. If she died tomorrow, she would die happy.

Now she knew him, and the memory was hers to cherish forever. For the first time in months she felt truly free.

The water became cooler and more refreshing as she pulled away from the shore. After a while she turned, and saw the lights of Beira that had been concealed from the beach. She shuddered, and moved back quickly towards the shore, only happy when she could see the lights no longer. They were an intrusion, and she did not want to know that they were there.

He was standing on the beach, watching her as she came in towards him, and she could see the flash of his pearl-white teeth as she emerged from the water. She guessed that he had been worried because she had gone far out.

He took her hand and they walked back towards the vegetation. They dressed slowly, not wanting the moment to pass. Then they walked some way in from the shore and ate an unappetizing meal of tinned fish. They lay down next to each other.

Tomorrow they would attack the fuel tanks. They were both quiet, knowing that this might well be the last night of their lives. The sounds of the bush took on a special significance, everything that spoke of life to them was treasured. After an hour or so they drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Rayne and Bernard

The knock on the door of his hotel room startled Rayne. He got out of bed, gun at the ready. His nerves were on edge; Saturday had passed with agonising slowness - he had seen the same tension building in Larry, Mick and Guy, all anxious that nothing should go wrong and well aware of the danger that lay ahead. At least with the helicopter as back-up they were not going to be left high and dry.

He walked carefully to the bedroom door and opened it slowly, surprised to find Bernard Aschaar standing in front of him, alone. Rayne disguised his unease and smiled.

‘
Mr Aschaar. Come in. I can only offer you whisky but at least it’s of a passable standard.’

‘
Whisky will be fine, Mr Brand. I’m glad to have found you alone.’

Rayne decided to leave the conversation to Aschaar. The man was going to have to make the first move.

‘
When will the guns arrive?’

‘
On Monday,’ Rayne lied.

‘
You are too good at your job. You have delivered faster than anyone could have imagined.’

‘
You stressed the importance of timing on this deal. You’ve paid for a fast delivery and that’s what you’ve got.’

‘
What I have come to tell you is that the situation has changed appreciably. I have had certain discussions, and from a business point of view it would be better if the General was not supplied with the weapons he needs right away.’

God, Rayne thought, what’s he playing at? He wants to forestall the invasion date. Immediately he was on his guard; he felt he was being led into a carefully engineered trap.

‘
I’m afraid the machinery has been set in motion. I have to accept delivery, I have no choice in the matter -1 have paid the pilot and chartered a plane. Besides, from my understanding of the situation here, if ZANLA are not supplied with those

weapons there’s going to be a lot of trouble. I don’t want to get involved in that.’

‘
I am not making myself clear - ’

‘
And what about General Vorotnikov? He wants those weapons. I’m going to let him down if I don’t deliver.’

‘
I’m not talking about a non-delivery. I’m merely asking you to delay delivery. And I realise the difficulties from your point of view, and am therefore advancing you a further million dollars to arrange it.’

Rayne pretended to be unimpressed by the amount. ‘You realise that if word gets out, my career will be over? And the Russians are past masters at sorting out people who let them down. How am I protected in this deal?’

‘
For a million dollars I should think you wouldn’t care.’

‘
A million dollars is chicken-shit to you, Mr Aschaar.’

Rayne saw the anger flare on the man’s face. ‘You could tell Vorotnikov about our little deal,’ said Aschaar. ‘He’d be just as happy to eliminate me as he would you.’

‘
No go, Mr Aschaar. Ten million dollars is the minimum bid on this deal.’

Aschaar rose up like a coiled snake about to strike. Rayne’s gun was pointing at his chest in a fraction of a second.

‘
Try me, Mr Aschaar. Try me.’

Aschaar sat down. ‘You’re a bastard, Mr Brand.’

‘
I’m not in your league. Pay me what I want or get out.’

‘
All right,
but.
. .’

‘
No buts. You pay. I do what you want. You shut up.’

Aschaar closed his eyes for a second. Rayne guessed he had rarely been spoken to in this way before.

‘
You’ll get your money, Mr Brand.’

Rayne immediately sensed treachery, but there was little he could do about that now. He said, ‘How late do you want the delivery to be?’

‘
As late as possible. I want you to inform me, in the presence of the General, that there has been a delay. That you are prepared to forfeit the whole deal if necessary because of the late delivery. Of course he will not accept that proposal, he needs the guns desperately.’

‘
And when do you want me to put this to him?’

‘
Tomorrow, at lunch at the villa. A car will come to collect you at twelve-thirty.’

‘
Unfortunately tomorrow I have important business.’

‘
For ten million dollars you can drop it. It’s vital that you inform the General tomorrow when I am present. Just make sure that you arrive for lunch on time, Mr Brand.’

‘
Don’t worry about me, Mr Aschaar.’

‘
Very good. And it will be best if you are alone. You must appear as distressed as possible, and I’ll be very hard on you. I’d like you to leave hastily, and then I’ll patch things up with Vorotnikov after you’ve left. It has to look realistic.’

‘
Goodnight then, Mr Aschaar. I’ll see you at lunch.’

Rayne closed the door, and found that he was shaking.

Even without the prospect of getting the rifles he needed, Vorotnikov would go ahead with the Salisbury attack, Rayne was sure of it. He would have done, in Vorotnikov’s position - and the man must have some kind of weapons he could still hand out to his black forces. No commander would let slip the military and political opportunity of a lifetime for want of a bit of hardware. Rayne smiled to himself. It was interesting to know that he and his men would not be the only people happy if his mission succeeded; Aschaar obviously no longer wanted the invasion to succeed either - though for what reason, Rayne hadn’t a clue.

Vorotnikov stood on the beach outside his villa, staring out across the waters and watching the moonlight ripple across the waves. He picked up Rhodes and thoughtfully scratched the little mongrel behind the ears, speaking to him softly.

‘
I am on the verge of achieving my dream. With my own people there is no problem, but with my friend Mr Aschaar . . . I’m not so sure.’