Jackal's Dance

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Jackal's Dance Page 46

by Beverley Harper


  ‘AKs, sir.’

  ‘I can hear that, sergeant. Let’s go.’

  They moved cautiously, not knowing what to expect. What they hadn’t anticipated, however, was meeting up again with the lions, now literally running through the night to escape from whatever lay ahead. ‘Oh shit! It’s those bloody lions again.’

  Tully needn’t have worried. The pride was so traumatised by gunfire, the smell of humans and the sheer volume of jackals that the sudden sighting of more potential adversaries scattered them in all directions. They’d go hungry this night. Every instinct they had urged them to get as far away as possible from this place.

  Voices alerted Tully that he’d found his target. He stopped and listened, frowning first in concentration, then disbelief. People were speaking English, sounding almost relaxed. Signalling that his men should spread out and move in on three sides, Tully inched forward, all senses on full alert. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the UNITA soldiers had been overpowered. Caution was still called for. The freed hostages were armed and likely to be jumpy as hell.

  Taking cover behind a tree, he announced their presence. ‘This is Major Tully of the Namibian Defence Force. Hold your fire.’

  A stunned silence followed until one voice shouted, ‘Show yourself.’

  Tully stepped from behind the tree, his assault rifle held high. ‘Put down your weapons.’

  A head shook. ‘No way.’

  ‘Hold your fire. I’m coming in.’

  ‘Come alone.’ Three Kalachnikovs were pointed at him.

  Tully walked slowly forward, hands above his head. ‘My name is Eric Tully,’ he said, stopping a few metres off. ‘I’m an officer with the Namibian army. We are here to rescue you, although right now it doesn’t look like you needed our help.’

  Surrounded by their captors, what was left of the UNITA force huddled together nursing their injuries. A few, Tully could see, were beyond caring. ‘Which one is their leader?’

  ‘This one.’ Angela tapped Ace on the head none too gently.

  ‘Turn him over.’

  Philip obliged with his foot.

  ‘Ace Ntesa. Excellent.’ Tully glanced at Angela. ‘Would you mind not doing that again, Miss? The army would very much like to speak to this man before they shoot him.’

  Dan rubbed a hand wearily over his mouth. ‘You got any water?’

  ‘Plenty. May I bring my men in?’

  ‘Please do.’

  Tully barked an order. Heavily armed and camouflaged soldiers materialised from the surrounding bush. ‘Secure the prisoners.’

  Water, rations and cigarettes were distributed, the hostages more than willing to relax and let the army take charge. Tully, once satisfied that the situation was under control, joined them. ‘Are any of you injured?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Over there. One of the students. I think he’s dead.’

  Tully sent men to investigate.

  ‘Anyone else?’

  Dan looked around the grimy, sweaty and tearstained faces. They were all injured in one way or another. All would bear scars, seen or unseen, for the rest of their lives. He looked back at Tully. ‘A couple shouldn’t be on their feet.’

  ‘How many?’

  Dan rose wearily, the pulled muscle in his back protesting. ‘Come with me.’

  Tully followed.

  Lowering his voice, Dan told him first about Jutta and her father. ‘He’s got a bad heart. His daughter . . . the soldiers . . .’ He swallowed hard.

  ‘I understand,’ Tully said gently. ‘How old is she?’

  The caring in Tully’s voice was too much. Voice husky with emotion, his features contorted trying to hold back tears, Dan answered. ‘Fifteen.’

  A sharp intake of breath was the major’s only reaction. ‘Were there others?’

  ‘Yes.’ Dan wiped a hand across his eyes. ‘An American, James Fulton. And that African girl. They’ll need help to get out of here. The man is in a lot of pain. Several others will also require attention. Thea Abbott,’ he indicated the lodge manager’s wife. ‘She had a miscarriage last night. Gayle Gaynor has bad blisters and a severely swollen knee. The rest of us should make it on foot.’

  The major shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. After what you’ve been through I believe the army can take care of you better than that.’

  Tully got busy on his radio. Then he and Dan rejoined the hostages. ‘Two army choppers will be here at first light. Those who need it will be airlifted to Okaukuejo where Medi Rescue teams are on stand-by. Then they’ll come back for the rest of you. My back-up troops should be here within the hour. Your ordeal is over. I’m sending Mr Ntesa and his men on ahead. You’ve seen the last of them.’

  ‘Two of the terrorists are missing,’ Troy said. ‘Another is in the bush over there. Their leader shot him.’

  ‘What do you mean, missing?’

  ‘Back in that direction, where we stopped earlier tonight.’ It seemed so long ago. ‘They fell into the fire.’

  Tully gave Troy a questioning stare.

  ‘We put tranquilliser into their booze. Rompun. That’s how we got away.’

  Slowly, in dribs and drabs, the story came out. Tully was able to establish the salient points. He dispatched his sergeant and four others towards the park’s northern boundary. ‘Keep your eyes peeled, those two might still be alive.’

  The sergeant saluted. From the sound of things, even if predators hadn’t found them, he doubted that the two terrorists would be terribly interested in resistance.

  ‘Brandy,’ Troy burst out. ‘Don’t drink it. There’s Rompun in the bottles.’

  Even if he took offence, the soldier said nothing.

  Tully turned to Dan. ‘We saw where you spent last night.’

  Gayle leaned forward. ‘Matt? Did you find Matt?’

  Standing behind her, Dan shook his head and frowned a suggestion of silence.

  But under Gayle’s imploring eyes Tully could not bring himself to lie. ‘I’m sorry. There was nothing there.’

  Gayle stared at the ground. ‘Oh!’ she said in a small voice before turning and raising a trembling hand to Dan.

  He sat down beside her and placed an arm around her. ‘Remember what I said? Matt has moved on.’

  Gayle nodded, her eyes briefly closed. ‘Poor Matt,’ she breathed softly.

  One of the two soldiers sent to check on Fletch returned. ‘He’s still alive.’

  ‘Bad?’ Tully wanted to know.

  ‘Not real good, sir. Lung shot. There are a couple of people with him.’

  ‘Send them back here. You and Sharman stay with him. Do what you can until the choppers get here.’

  ‘They won’t leave him, sir.’

  ‘Fair enough. Don’t pressure them. Either of them need medical attention?’

  ‘Both, sir, by the looks.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘Hard to say, sir.’

  ‘See what you can do, there’s a good chap. I’ll be along in a minute.’

  ‘Sir.’ The soldier turned and jogged back to the wounded student.

  Tully got busy on his radio again, speaking first to the Medi Rescue team, then army headquarters. ‘And let that girl at Okaukuejo know her friends are safe,’ he concluded.

  ‘Girl? What girl?’ Angela, Troy and Josie crowded the army officer.

  He smiled. ‘Megan Ward. She’s safe. It was Megan who raised the alarm.’

  ‘How did she –’

  Tully held up a hand for silence. ‘She can tell you that. Personally, I think it was a case of divine intervention.’ The major smiled again as Troy and Angela celebrated with some high fives. Then he addressed everyone. ‘You’ve got a couple of hours before the choppers arrive. My men will stand guard. I suggest you all get some rest.’

  He knew they’d been to hell and back. Surveying the exhausted and soundly asleep group some ten minutes later he had a sense of satisfaction that the mission had been successful, not to mention a profound admiration
for them all.

  At first light, the choppers landed in a clearing nearby. Fletch and James were stretchered into one. Walter, Jutta, Kalila, Thea and Gayle walked to the other. Caitlin wanted to go with Fletch but Tully, seeing her obvious distress, said it wouldn’t be possible. He didn’t like the wounded student’s chances. Those left on the ground experienced a strong emotion of separation as the helicopters took off.

  Tully received a radio message that Fletch died twelve minutes into the flight. He kept the information to himself. These people didn’t need any more bad news. With a sensitivity he was not normally known for, by encouraging them to talk about themselves the major kept everyone’s mind away from their ordeal as they waited for the helicopters to return.

  Sitting secure within a circle of soldiers, one by one they spoke of their lives. Tully knew these people would have to deal emotionally with the terrible memories. But for now, recalling family, friends, home and lifestyles was the first step towards recovery.

  The world’s media, by now well over a hundred strong, were waiting for them at the airstrip at Okaukuejo. They were less than impressed when Major Tully, who had joined the remaining hostages in one of the helicopters, refused them access. ‘Give them a break. You’ll get your story but right now these people need showers, food and bed rest.’ Cameras captured the bedraggled group as they were whisked away in vehicles to the rest camp.

  After making sure his charges were secure and comfortable, Tully gave a brief statement to the media. He carefully avoided any mention of sensitive military matters and refused to be drawn into giving any but the most impersonal details of what the hostages had gone through. Even so, coupled with Buster’s information about Megan, it made a story guaranteed to lead the news in every corner of the globe.

  Dr Adams, after saying goodbye to Megan when she flew to Windhoek with the injured, found he’d gained ten new patients. Aside from exhaustion, and God knows what they needed psychologically, he pronounced each well enough to get on with their lives. Phone calls to relatives were arranged but everything else was placed on hold. For now, safety, something they’d all taken for granted in the past, was the most precious thing in the world.

  The following morning, the press could no longer be denied and a joint interview was set up in the dining room. The question frenzy soon subsided, became positively subdued and finally fell into awed silence as details of the hostages’ ordeal became known. In the interest of privacy, mention of rape was not made. If it came out at all it would be up to the individuals concerned.

  Later in the day, army vehicles drove everybody to Windhoek where accommodation had been arranged at a luxury hotel. Debriefing took two days. After that, all were finally free to go home.

  It was difficult to say goodbye. They’d been through so much together and now this group of one-time strangers was fragmenting again. Keen as they all were to find normality there was also a reluctance to part.

  Friendships had been formed that were too new to be easy and too intense to let go. After the first day of probing questions by army intelligence officers, with each member being debriefed independently of the others, the group came together quite naturally, as if by a prearranged agreement, in a private conference room that had been reserved for them. They were all drained of energy, a combination of delayed action and being forced to relive their experience.

  Angela nearly fell into Troy’s arms, so pleased was she to be back in his company. He had come to represent a haven, and although the danger was over his strong body and the caring look in his eyes was essential. Troy sensed this. Angela was emotionally fragile and her hostage experience could easily snap the fine thread that held her together. He made sure he kept physical contact with her – a touch on her arm, a squeeze of fingers or his hand lightly on her neck. He was careful to keep all intimacy out of his body language, voice and eyes. She needed a rock. He would give her one.

  Dan went to Caitlin and wrapped her in a bear hug. No words were needed. Caitlin cried against his chest. She had liked Fletch and found him attractive. His death was shocking to everyone, coming so close to their ordeal being over. On top of that, Caitlin had come so close to being raped. Her emotions were complicated by this, plus uncertainty over Fletch. Was she grieving for a man she barely knew, for what might have been? Or were her tears a reaction to his death shared by everyone – sorrow for a young life so callously snuffed out? Caitlin didn’t know and she suspected it was this fact that caused her the most pain. Dan’s strong, silent hug told her he understood.

  Felicity and Philip drew together. She felt frozen, unable to think beyond the fact that she was safe. It was Philip who let go, tears running down his cheeks. Speaking softly, his face averted from all but her, he put into words the terror and rage in him as she had been dragged towards the fire. ‘You were so brave,’ he choked. ‘It was then that I realised how vulnerable you really are.’

  His words cut through her emotional paralysis. She’d been vulnerable all her life but a sophisticated facade meant that few people realised it. She turned into him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her own tears starting. ‘You give me no place to hide.’

  Philip’s arms went around her. ‘You have no need to hide from me.’

  ‘I know. Thank you.’

  Billy sought out Sean. ‘This may be over, Hudson, but I intend to make sure you never work as a ranger in this country again.’

  Sean looked at him. Of them all, Billy was the only one who hadn’t sought or given comfort. Perhaps that made him stronger than everyone else. A superman with no human frailties. Perhaps. ‘I feel sorry for you, Billy,’ Sean said quietly before moving away.

  Josie found herself standing alone. She looked at the others, most of whom had found solace with someone, and then she noticed Chester standing with his back to the room, staring through the window. Needing company, Josie joined him. ‘That was a bit rough today.’

  He turned to her, emotion working his face as he tried to remain calm. ‘It was my fault. Everything that happened. I’m to blame.’

  She saw guilt and the strain of it. ‘What do you mean?’

  Chester knew it was only a matter of time before his involvement with UNITA became known to the army. If one of the hostages didn’t let it slip, Ace would be quick to inform them. He needed to talk to someone and poured his heart out to Josie about the Portuguese pair who stayed at Logans Island Lodge. ‘If only I’d stopped to think,’ he said finally. ‘If only I’d had enough sense to realise there was something strange about the questions they asked. All this could have been avoided.’

  ‘You weren’t to know.’

  ‘I should have,’ he burst out. ‘I was with UNITA long enough to recognise their methods.’

  ‘You were one of them?’ Josie was shocked and couldn’t hide the fact.

  ‘I was a soldier, not an animal. I fought other soldiers, never civilians.’ Chester rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. ‘Yes, I see your revulsion. I don’t blame you for that. I don’t expect you to understand, but I believed in the fight for freedom and I thought Jonas Savimbi was the right man for Angola.’

  ‘Doesn’t this make you an enemy of the state or something?’

  ‘Probably. Depends which way the political wind is blowing. Right now, yes, my involvement with UNITA will be regarded with suspicion.’

  ‘What if the army finds out?’

  ‘There’s no doubt that they will. Dan and Sean both know. I didn’t try to hide it from them. Ace knows too.’

  ‘They’ll arrest you, won’t they?’

  Chester blew air. ‘More than likely.’ He gave a cynical laugh. ‘Funny how things work. Once upon a time UNITA were allies.’ He shrugged. ‘Politics,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Today’s friend is tomorrow’s foe. Truth doesn’t come into it.’

  ‘Truth,’ Josie said reflectively. ‘I don’t know much about Angola but after the past few days I sure as hell don’t have any sympathy with UNITA. I hear what you’re saying, Chester, but you
must hear what I’m saying too. I don’t think I want to talk to you any more.’ Josie moved away.

  Chester turned back to the window. He understood Josie’s reaction but he lacked the energy to try to explain the complicated issues that brought Angola to the state it was in today. He would be perceived by the Namibian army as being a potential threat to the security of this country through his UNITA connections. He regarded himself responsible for the entire hostage-taking exercise. Chester glanced around the room. Everyone was occupied, together in small groups. He knew that tonight, or maybe tomorrow, there was every chance he would be arrested.

  No-one noticed Chester leave. He wasn’t missed for some time. Even then, they assumed he had gone to his room.

  The remaining nine eventually gathered together in one group. Conversation was limited. No-one wanted to be there, yet they all needed each other. It was Josie who pointed out that, of the eighteen taken hostage, only half remained. That’s when Chester’s absence was noticed. Sean went to the fully stocked bar and offered drinks. Dan suggested they ask for a video machine and a selection of tapes. No-one could be bothered to do anything about it. Food, in the form of a cold buffet, was brought in by waiters. It was picked at. Despite their hunger while the captives of Ace and his men, appetites were not great.

  Then Billy took it upon himself to deliver a short castigating lecture about the risks they took in drugging the terrorists. ‘You should have listened to me. I’m the lodge manager, the authority was mine. If you’d listened, that student wouldn’t have been killed.’

  Surprisingly, it was Angela who stopped him. ‘Shut up, for God’s sake. Would you rather more of us were raped?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. All I’m saying is that we should have had a leader to make decisions.’

  ‘We did,’ Angela snapped. ‘Troy was the only one with balls enough to do something. Why don’t you just back off?’

  Billy took offence and left the room.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Angela apologised. ‘I couldn’t stand listening to him.’

  ‘No need,’ Sean said lightly. ‘Neither could the rest of us.’

  Caitlin joined Angela and Troy. ‘Tell me about Fletch,’ she said suddenly.

 

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