Jackal's Dance (58 page)

The pride wasted no time. Jackal and hyena would have heard the commotion. Eight hungry animals surrounded the fallen zebra and, teeth bared and ready, lowered their heads to the feast.

Ace was no more than a kilometre behind his onetime hostages. Instincts honed from a life spent in the bush, he and his men sensed they were close. But he was starting to worry. It surprised him that the civilians had made such good progress. More open country lay ahead. If they reached it, Ace and his men would have to take a wide detour in order to get in front. Still hidden by forest, that wouldn't be necessary.

Thirty-five minutes later, moonlight glinting on metal gave the hostages away. They were only a couple of hundred metres ahead. Responding to well-practised hand signals, the terrorists split into two groups, fanning out to overtake and get in front of their quarry. Ace would have his ambush, the unsuspecting group blundering straight into it. His soldiers sped silently through the bush, pistols drawn. Retaking the group would be easy. Two of them had to die. The rest would go quietly.

‘Please stop,' Walter gasped. ‘My heart.'

‘We must go on,' Billy gritted.

‘Nein. Bitte
.' Walter lapsed into his native tongue.

Billy spoke German fluently and replied in kind. ‘Not much further. You can do it.'

‘Walter is out on his feet,' Philip called to Dan.

‘Can we rest for a few minutes?'

Dan didn't want to stop but could see the problem. Even in the moonlight, Water's sweating face and physical exhaustion were obvious. ‘Okay. Five minutes. No more.'

Walter sank gratefully to the ground. Jutta shook off Caitlin and Josie's helping hands and went straight to him. ‘I'm sorry, my darling. Papa is not so good.'

Jutta's eyes registered genuine concern and she put an arm round her father's shoulders. The others rested as best they could, nervously scanning the bush behind them.

‘Are we ever going to get there?' Josie cried.

By Dan's calculations, they were still two or three kilometres from the river. Time was running out. Several of the group were obviously struggling. Gayle's knee had become progressively worse. Thea was not far from collapse. James now groaned in agony with each step he took. Dan dropped down next to Philip. ‘Change of plan. I don't think we can make it to the river. It's not ideal but something could be set up here.'

Philip looked around. ‘There's reasonable cover. It might work. We won't have time to think about it. They'll be on us with little or no warning. By the same token, they won't be expecting an ambush.'

‘Open country would have been better. I don't like the thought of letting them get this close. They'll return fire, melt into the bush. Some of us are bound to get hurt.' Dan was right. At close range, the terrorists had a distinct advantage.

‘What else can we do? We haven't a clue how
close they are. For all we know that drug might have killed them. But my money says they're not far off. Better safe than sorry.'

Dan agreed. ‘I think we'd better get ourselves ready.'

Between them, they had seven AK47s with magazines. The rest were empty. At least the terrorists had been deprived of their use.

‘Chester, Caitlin, Sean and I are all familiar with firearms. Does anyone else shoot?'

‘I do,' Troy said.

‘Me too.' Fletch put up a hand.

‘That's six. Who wants the seventh?'

‘I'll take it,' Philip volunteered. ‘People are a bit bigger than rabbits but if it comes to a fight, I won't hesitate.'

Dan squinted up at the moon. It shone a brilliant light in the cloudless sky. No help from that quarter. Their pursuers would be having little difficulty following them. ‘We'll circle out and back. Not far, twenty metres or so, then take cover. The bastards should go right past us. That's when we hit them. Okay?'

Everyone agreed.

‘Those of us who are armed will get as close as possible to our original tracks. The rest of you keep further out and lie low. Once we're in position, no talking.'

Angela tightened her grip on Troy's hand. ‘I want to stay with you.'

‘No, Angie. It's too dangerous. You'll be safer out of the line of fire.'

Philip returned to Walter. ‘Time to go.'

‘I can't,' the German rasped.

‘You have to,' Philip said firmly. ‘Come on, Walter. Just a few more metres then you can lie down.'

One by one, they reluctantly rose to their feet. Fletch moved forward to help James who, now they'd stopped, had nothing else to think of but his pain and was weeping. Fletch crouched next to the American. ‘I'll carry you.'

‘No. Help me up. I'll manage.'

Chester put out a hand to Kalila, pulling her up. Fletch did the same for James. The rest had already turned, ready to move off. Kalila's eyes suddenly widened and she gave a little scream. Chester spun around. Fletch also turned and found himself staring at Ace. He opened his mouth to call a warning. The .45 copper jacket bullet smashed squarely into his chest, flinging the student backwards into James. The sudden deafening noise stunned everybody. Ace's men stepped out of the surrounding bush and simply snatched the machine guns. It was as their leader had predicted. Easy.

Tully heard the shot. ‘A couple of clicks,' he guessed out loud.

The sergeant agreed. ‘No more than that. Dead ahead.'

‘Pistol. Heavy. Probably a .45. Odd. I'd have put money on our friends being at the boundary fence.'

‘Could it be poachers?'

‘With a hand gun? Do me a favour.' Tully shook
his head. ‘That's UNITA alright. For some reason they've stopped well short of where I expected. At least we know Mr Ntesa is wide awake. That shot could have been to scare off an animal. Lucky it was them and not us.'

No-one had forgotten the lions.

‘Sergeant, spread your men in line of sight on either side of the track and proceed north. I'll stay with the spoor. Keep alert and shoot to kill anyone who refuses to identify themselves immediately. And I mean immediately. Okay. Let's go.'

Fletch hadn't moved. James, who had also fallen, cradled him in his arms, the American's mouth moving but no words coming out. Then Fletch groaned and Caitlin, with no thought for her own safety, sprang forward. ‘Fletch!'

Ace lifted a lazy arm and back-handed the ranger, knocking her off her feet and sending her sprawling into the dirt.

Dazed, shocked, but beside herself with fury, Caitlin raised hate-glittering eyes to the rebel leader. Unaware of blood dripping from a split lip, uncaring of the consequences, she rose, swaying slightly, and spat into Ace's face.

With a smirk, Ace punched her in the stomach, doubling Caitlin over.

In agony, tears of pain running down her face, she straightened. ‘Fuck you, you slimy maggot bastard,' she gritted.

Ace turned away, wiping his face. The girl could wait.

Caitlin took a step towards him but Dan, who like the others had been immobilised with shock, pulled her back and held her. ‘Steady,' he whispered.

She took a shuddering breath. ‘Fletch.'

Dan tightened his arms. ‘Hold on.'

Caitlin buried her face into his neck and Dan turned her and pulled her closer, holding on with a grim need to protect her from herself. He felt her sag as rage became grief.

Ace approached the fallen Fletch and kicked out viciously at James who still had the student in his arms. His boot crunched bone and James shrieked with agony.

Chester moved in quickly and helped James up. There was no telling what the terrorist would do next.

Ace squatted next to Fletch, assessing him with professional interest. Still breathing. Pink lung blood bubbled from the wound. He'd be lucky to see out the night. How convenient. Ace had planned to kill this one anyway.

Paralysis was leaving the stricken hostages. Several women sobbed loudly. Ace regained his feet and faced them. ‘Get over there with the rest,' he grated in Portuguese.

Chester pulled Kalila with him. James followed, holding his arm. Ace's kick had caught him on the elbow and the pain was terrible. The whole group froze again as a cruel smile spread over the rebel leader's face. They knew that shooting Fletch wasn't the end of their punishment.

At a word from Ace, one man stepped up to the
hostages and grabbed Sean by the shoulder, shoving him roughly towards the leader.

‘No!' It burst from Thea. ‘Please, no. Don't take him from me.'

Sean's words reached her. ‘Be brave, my darling. I love you.'

‘I love you too,' she cried.

Sean was forced to his knees in front of Ace, who opened the canvas holster at his hip and stepped up to the ranger.

‘Tell him to look at me,' he ordered Chester. ‘I want him to see what's coming.'

‘For God's sake!' Chester shouted. ‘You can't do that.'

‘Tell him.'

Quietly, with revulsion in every word, Chester translated. ‘He wants you to look at him.'

Sean's head remained bent. ‘Fuck him.'

‘Do as he says. He can make it much worse.'

‘Fuck him.'

Ace bunched his fist and punched Sean on the side of the head. Sean had sensed the blow coming and braced himself against it. If he had to die like this, he'd be damned if he'd give the bastard the satisfaction of caving in. The punch rocked him, but he remained on his knees.

‘Tell him to look at me or I'll shoot him in the leg.'

Chester translated. Philip reached Thea just as her knees turned to jelly. She clung to him, fear and grief wild in her eyes as she was unable to tear them away from the dreadful scene in front of her.

Sean kept his head bent.

Weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh.

The terrorists looked around, eyeing each other nervously. What was that?

The rangers and students knew. Eyes met eyes. The message was identical.
This could be our last chance.

Weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh.

Jackal, lots of them. Working together in the interest of a meal. Tormenting its rightful owner, a kill of some kind. At least one larger predator would be close at hand. Leopard. Or lion. If it were the latter, there'd be more than one.

The night filled with noise.
Weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh
. . .
weeuugh.

Savage snarls responded to the jackals' challenge.

Lion.

Ace was uneasy. The sounds were very close. He'd never heard anything like it. Amplified by the still night air, the noise chased everything out of the rebel leader's mind but for a need to get away. Sean was hauled roughly to his feet and shoved backwards. Ace barked an order and his men moved quickly, prodding their captives hard in their anxiety. The fierce sounds were everywhere. Ace came closer to panic than he'd ever been. Herding the exhausted hostages forward, he headed north.

They moved reluctantly, their aching limbs protesting. All had drawn to someone, needing contact, but surging through them all was something
else. Flanked on both sides by the terrorists, an unspoken message, a communal and powerful rage, was fanned by the need to survive. They acted without conscious thought.

Troy disengaged Angela's hand.

Dan dropped his arm from Gayle's waist.

Philip and Billy eased their grip on Walter.

Sean did likewise with Thea.

Chester marked a man to his right.

Caitlin moved from Jutta's side.

Felicity, Kalila and James separated.

All the hostages subtly shifted position, giving each other room to move. They were of one accord, responding to a single instinct. Tired and scared they may be but the thought that there would be no other chance filled bodies and minds with a strength born of desperation.

One of the soldiers lost his nerve. Giving a high cry of terror, he turned away and tried to run. Ace whipped out his pistol and shot him in the back. The UNITA rebel went down like a sack of potatoes.

And then there were nine.
Dan, who had targeted the man as his, focused on another.

Ace stopped suddenly. Ahead, in a clearing, the drama of an African night momentarily rendered him both physically and mentally incapacitated. The sight he saw chilled him from head to toe. His men froze in horror. None of them had seen lion up close before. In their country, food that the animal needed had long ago been eaten by humans.

The king and queens of beasts, in all their
spine-chilling splendour, defended their kill. Jackals, literally dozens of them, danced and leapt, bounding forward on stiff legs, darting perilously close to danger before flinging themselves out of reach. The pride of feeding lions surrounding the dead zebra had no chance to eat. Ears flattened and mouths drawn back into snarls, they twisted one way and then the other to protect what was rightfully theirs. Each time a jackal danced in, ear-splitting roars of defiance added to their more deadly teeth and claw defence.

The terrorists came close to using their machine guns yet hesitated, uncertain of the retribution it may bring upon them. The unfolding display only metres away completely unnerved them. For the moment their attention was diverted from their hostages.

There would never be a better time.

Four more jackal appeared from nowhere, tipping the balance. As one, the lions scrambled up and reluctantly vacated their still warm sustenance. They turned straight towards the terrorists and their captives. Exhausted men and women, knowing it was kill or be killed, sprang into action. It was as if they'd been rehearsing all their lives for this one moment in time.

Everything happened simultaneously.

The man Dan had targeted remained frozen with fear, his eyes locked on the advancing lions. Dan grabbed the wavering machine gun and wrenched it from the terrorist's grasp. The stock swung free, pistol grip settling into his hand,
trigger tight under a curling finger. Dan fired. The soldier went down. A line of bullet holes from low in the left leg to his right hip decreeing he wouldn't get up in a hurry. Dan had shredded the man's genitalia.