Hyena Dawn

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Hyena Dawn Page 21

by Christopher Sherlock


  The next stage in the project now was the meeting he had arranged with the Russians in Beira. It was critical for the achievement of his plans. The money would be exchanged, and the final agreement with General Vorotnikov would be signed. Immediately after this, a pre-emptive strike would be launched against Salisbury that would horrify the western world and blow to smithereens any chance of a British-orchestrated settlement.

  A hit-list had been drawn up of important people in Salisbury who had to be eliminated. Bernard knew that when most of the ruling elite had been wiped out, the affairs of the country would be in disarray. South Africa wouldn’t dare to intervene, for fear of western condemnation. The British wouldn’t want to get too heavily involved either - and the Americans would probably stay well clear of the whole thing. So then martial law could be declared, and a military government installed on Soviet lines. The rights of the white citizens would be protected, but all their assets would be frozen and no one would be allowed to leave the country for a considerable amount of time. There would be no free press, and the military government would be able to do exactly what it wanted to.

  Just the thought of this caused Bernard to smile. Power beyond his wildest dreams.

  Mozambique

  ‘You set me a very, very difficult task, Captain Gallagher . . Rayne went cold. He was sure he’d been absolutely right to choose Lois. There was an elemental hardness about him, no matter what his sexual preferences might be. He didn’t want the big man to let him down now.

  ‘I had to go back to Johannesburg, and then up to Zaire. I’ve got everything you wanted, but now I need to know what happens next.’

  ‘Lois, you’re going to be our back-up. In this operation success is going to be bloody difficult to achieve. If you tell anyone else what I’m going to let you know now, the whole operation will be blown. You’re a key element.’

  He could see that Lois was excited, and that was what he wanted. He sensed that the man had never really been extended to the limit of his capabilities, that Lois relished the thought of being able to prove himself.

  ‘As you know, the people who are backing me are providing full air support. The trouble is, though I’ve no doubt they’ll get us in all right, I wonder if they’ll get us out so easily. And I like to be in charge of my own escape route. So that’s where you come in. I want you to fly in after us with the extra equipment I told you about, and then make contact with me secretly. There should be a few places outside Beira where you can land the helicopter and then keep it hidden.’

  A frown appeared on Lois’s face. ‘How will I know if things go wrong, Captain Gallagher?’

  ‘We’ll make a secret rendezvous. If I haven’t arrived there by a certain time after the attack has been launched, you must leave.’

  ‘And what if you’re killed?’

  ‘I’ve got Colonel Michael Strong as second-in-command. He’ll know all about this arrangement once we’re in Mozambique. If something happens to me, he’ll meet you at the rendezvous- point.’

  ‘And how are you going to keep my separate departure a secret?’

  ‘That’s the hard part for you, Lois. I’m going to give everyone the option to drop out one last time, and you’ll have to act the whole thing, say you’ve decided to throw in the towel. Then you’ll leave the camp and I’ll stay secretly in touch with you until it’s time for take-off.’

  The noise of the rain outside emphasized the silence between them now. Lois looked at him directly. ‘That’s fine with me. I just hope you know what the hell you’re doing.’

  ‘Believe me, I’ve got this whole thing under tight control.’

  But as Lois disappeared into the pouring rain, Rayne won­dered if the words he had just spoken weren’t more to reassure himself than Lois. If John Fry ever found out about this back-up plan, he’d be for the high jump. Too bad - he wasn’t about to end his life in a muddy ditch with a couple of rounds of ammunition in the back of his skull.

  In the next few hours Rayne interviewed every man on the team. Some inspired him with absolute confidence, others he was less impressed by, but all of them were right. At least, that was what he felt until Larry Preston sauntered through the door.

  ‘Hi. How are things going?’

  The tone was surly and the form of address incorrect. Rayne would not tolerate insubordination of any kind, and he stared coldly at the Englishman until Preston began to shift uneasily on his feet. Eventually it was clear that he could stand the silence no longer.

  ‘So what do you want me for, sir?’ There was a veiled sarcasm in Preston’s voice and Rayne wondered at the change in him. ‘This is your last chance to get out, Preston.’

  ‘And what if I should want to leave tomorrow?’

  ‘You’re a mercenary. You follow the rules I make. Go today if you don’t like it; go tomorrow, and the only place you’ll rest is six foot under.’

  ‘I don’t take to being threatened, sir.’

  ‘Then pack your bags and get out.’

  Rayne didn’t want to lose this man but he wouldn’t put up with his attitude. Preston was a first-rate soldier, and more than that, no other man on the team could match his knowledge of explosives. Rayne also knew from Michael Strong that Preston desperately needed money - and he was paying far more than the going rate.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir. I’m in on this one. You won’t find me lacking, I can guarantee that.’

  Preston would have to be on his team, Rayne thought. If he got out of hand, Rayne would sort him out on the spot.

  ‘OK, Preston. But don’t forget who’s in charge. And I mean that.’

  He saw the last of the men by five-thirty, by which time he was thoroughly exhausted. Now he had to go through with the charade of Lois’s wanting to leave. It had to be convincing; he didn’t know who might be keeping tabs on him for John Fry.

  Half an hour later Michael Strong came through the door, his clothes absolutely sodden, but his smile warm. ‘So, how did it go?’

  Well, thought Rayne, it was now or never. ‘Fine. In fact very well, Michael.’

  ‘You sound as if everything isn’t entirely right?’

  ‘There’s a slight problem. We’re going to be one shorter than expected.’

  ‘You decided to jettison someone?’

  ‘No, it’s Lois. He’s decided not to come.’

  Michael looked anxious. They were operating thinly enough as it was. Rayne looked squarely at him. ‘I’d rather he was with us, but it’s not the end of the world. They’re all bloody good men. What matters is that from here on, it’s all systems go.’

  Rayne swung off the road, taking a hard dirt track that seemed to stretch on through the darkness into infinity. They crossed a range of hills and went over some small concrete bridges. Rayne talked to Lois as he drove along.

  ‘This farm is the only habitation along here. It’s fifteen kilometres from the main road, so I don’t think you’ll be bothered by anyone, but if someone does pitch up, just use the story we’ve planned and clear them out as quickly as you can. This farm will have to be one of your escape routes. Not the main one, obviously, but if we have to get someone injured out of Mozambique, this will be the first stop-off point.’

  Rayne changed the vehicle into third gear as they went up a particularly steep incline.

  ‘Make sure when you take off that you leave no evidence lying around. Pack everything away very neatly and destroy anything you don’t need. Leave the place exactly as you find it.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll be followed?’

  ‘No. But if the mission succeeds, a lot of questions may be asked, and no one must know anything about us. We’ll disappear into thin air after this.’

  They came up to a single wire gate and Lois jumped out to undo it. Rayne watched him unwinding the piece of wire that held the gate shut. Around them was blackness, the earth smelling fresh after the earlier heavy rainfall. If Lois failed him, it could all be over for them. But he had great confidence in the man, and he had le
arned to count on his gut feelings. Five minutes later, and they hit the paved road that led up to the farmhouse.

  The building, designed in the Mediterranean style with a tiled porch with plants growing all round it, was enormous. Rayne drove past the front entrance and continued along the side of the building, passing the bedrooms, until he reached the back. He stopped in front of a junction-box and climbed out of the cab. Moments later the whole place was bathed in light from a series of spotlights mounted high in the trees surrounding the house.

  They entered through the kitchen and took a quick look round, then they walked away from the main house and over to a couple of large buildings at the side. Rayne unlocked one of the big sliding doors to reveal a small aircraft-hangar.

  ‘The farmer who owns this place is a multi-millionaire. He’s away on business for six months and I’ve rented it for the entire period. There’s just about everything you could want installed in the workshop next door - drilling machine, a couple of lathes, a metal saw. I don’t know whether you can get the chopper into this hangar, but there’s plenty of room outside as you’ll see in the morning.’

  Rayne extinguished most of the lights and they walked back to the vehicle. He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was after nine-thirty. Any more time spent showing Lois round would be a waste. Now he must take him quickly to Richard’s Bay and then get back to the main camp. He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious.

  The big diesel truck exploded into life with a deafening roar. The vehicle moved effortlessly out of Richard’s Bay and onto the main road, and Lois kept his foot flat on the pedal, holding the speed at around one hundred and twenty kilometres per hour. He hadn’t got time to spare. Rayne had set him a tough task.

  Having dropped the truck off at the farm, he would drive back on one of the motorcycle scramblers that were packed in the back. He’d head down to the airfield at first light, then fly the chopper back to the farm. That would mean he could start work on it in earnest by midday. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that he wouldn’t be getting much sleep in the next week.

  Rayne made it back to the camp at eleven-thirty that evening - an acceptable time for someone to return who had driven to Richard’s Bay and back. No one would have any reason to be suspicious. Colonel Strong came out to greet Rayne as he arrived, and they walked inside together.

  ‘Damned bloody shame about that. But it’s for the best, no doubt. Do you think we should try and replace him?’

  ‘No, I’m happy with everyone else and we’ve got enough men for the job. The final briefing is tomorrow. I want everyone up at six so that I can put them through their paces.’

  ‘Will this be your physical evaluation?’

  ‘Yes. On that basis, I’ll decide exactly who’s doing what.’

  ‘I’m glad we’re getting going, I was beginning to get restless. I just hope I don’t fail the physical!’

  Rayne laughed. Michael was probably fitter than he was. ‘Let’s get some sleep now, or I’m not going to be in any condition to run anyone off their feet, let alone you, Michael.’

  Rayne pushed himself hard up the slope, reflecting on what he’d put them through already: a hard jungle course that ended in a mock fire-fight; several mock manoeuvres involving the use of explosives and camouflage gear; then some regular shooting and unarmed combat training. He now knew that every man he had with him was of the highest military calibre. The only thing left was to see if they were physically fit.

  He heard the man closest to him start to breathe more deeply as the gradient began to tell, and soon he felt his own legs burn with the effort of the climb. He broke away from the rough path and began to beat his way upwards through the bush. A hundred metres further on, the ground dropped away into a steep ravine, and Rayne started to work his way down the side. One slip here would be fatal - the muddy ledge he was following bordered on a sheer cliff. Occasionally a loose stone would rattle over the edge and explode into pieces as it hit the rocks below.

  The moment Rayne had reached the stream in the bottom of the gully, he turned upwards and followed its course. Now the way was blocked by huge boulders that could only be scrambled over with great difficulty. Rayne didn’t stop. He pulled himself up, hand over hand, on an enormous creeper that grew up one side of the waterfall. He came to an overhang and his legs swung out into the void as he followed the creeper over the rock.

  After that his arms became weaker, and the last twenty-five metres weren’t easy going. He pulled himself over the top and breathed deeply. He looked down and watched the rest of the men who were now making their way up the same route.

  Guy Hauser handled it with ease, he moved up the creeper like an acrobat. The rest of the men followed, each tackling the vine with the same formidable determination. Then it was Mick O’Rourke’s turn. He started off well, full of confidence and moving quickly. However, as he got further up the vine it was clear that the height of the cliff was beginning to faze him.

  At the overhang, O’Rourke hesitated. Then he decided to go for it. He was climbing badly and his legs swung away from the vine. Now he was hanging from his arms, not moving, and losing strength rapidly. Rayne knew that if he let go he was dead. No one stirred. It was only a matter of time before his arms gave in.

  In an instant Rayne was climbing back down the vine, the enormous drop below him more apparent now as he moved towards the stricken man. O’Rourke was silent, his eyes looking upwards desperately. He stared directly into Rayne’s eyes, the animal terror reflected on his face.

  ‘Mick, you have to let go with one hand. Can you do that?’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You bloody well can, or I’m going with you! Give me your hand!’

  ‘If I let go I’ll fall.’

  ‘Give me your fucking hand, man!’

  With a last incredible effort O’Rourke shoved his right hand upwards, and even as he did so Rayne saw his left hand begin to loosen its hold. He gripped the hand, and felt O’Rourke’s weight start to drag him down. The man swung out below him, almost pulling Rayne off the face of the cliff.

  ‘Mick, for God’s sake get a grip on yourself! Catch hold of the vine again.’

  Rayne closed his eyes and began to pull the man up. His left arm screamed with pain as he clung to the vine above him, and he knew that if O’Rourke did not respond soon, they would both go hurtling into the void. Finally O’Rourke gripped the vine and Rayne felt the weight come off his arm.

  The next minute O’Rourke was climbing past him for the top. They both made it, and lay gasping for breath as the rest of the men watched. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. Rayne had just proved how much he would go through for any one of them.

  He kept them going for another hour, moving through dense bush, wading across muddy pans and then sprinting across open stretches of ground. None of them wavered now, all sticking together in a tight formation. A feeling of comradeship began to grow in them. None of them had been members of such a crack team before. By the time they made it to camp they were all soaked with sweat, thoroughly exhausted, but strangely exhilarated.

  Rayne was pleased with his team. Now all he had to do was get them into Mozambique, do what had to be done, and get them out again alive.

  The two men in the four-wheel-drive came across the camp that morning. It struck them as odd that there was no one about. They rummaged around and found the weapons. They saw the uniforms.

  The two men were not stupid. They could see that this wasn’t a regular army unit; what it actually was they weren’t sure. It seemed dangerous to stay in the place for long in case the people who were using it came back.

  They drove out the way they had come, glad to have got away unnoticed and with no desire to return.

  Rayne saw the fresh tracks when he stepped out of the shower. He didn’t have a clue who it had been, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  He gathered a duty roster together and drove the men to the main road. When they got there th
ey dug up the hard sand next to the tarmac and covered the track that led to their camp. Next they transplanted a considerable amount of vegetation with great care and used it to cover the spot where the track cut into the bush. By the time they had finished Rayne was satisfied that only an expert tracker would notice that there was something odd about the bush at the side of the road. To the casual observer the track seemed to have vanished into thin air.

  Next, Rayne walked some one hundred metres down the tarmac road until he came to a sign indicating a curve coming up for traffic from the south. Rayne pulled out the sign and tossed it deep into the bush. Now there was no way that anyone who might have come upon the track earlier in the day could find it again.

  That afternoon Rayne split the men into two attack units, one under his own command which would attack the bank, the other

  • and by far the larger - under Michael Strong, which would be responsible for destroying the airfield and all the planes. Speed was all-important. Rayne remembered John Fry’s words. ‘Take the bank, destroy it and the contents of the safe-deposit boxes. Destroy the airport runway and the planes. On no account touch the fuel storage tanks just outside Beira.’ As Rayne and a smaller group attacked the bank and created a diversion for the enemy forces in the area, Michael Strong’s unit would move in on the airport. The moment that had happened, Bunty Mulbarton would blow up the road to the airport and wreak complete havoc.

 

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