A Time to Die c-13

by Wilbur Smith

  "I see your preparations are complete, Colonel Courtney," he greeted Sean.

  "Yes, they are ready, General!" ain for my benefit."

  "Will you please go over the plans ag Sean singled out Sergeant Alphonso. "Describe the raid for us again," he ordered. General China stood in front of the mock-up laager with the swagger stick clasped behind his back and watched with quick bright eyes, interrupting sharply to ask his questions.

  "Why are you using only half the available missiles?"

  "The raiding column has to get through the Frelimo lines undetected. The missiles are bulky and heavy. A larger number would be superfluous and make discovery by Frelimo much more likely."

  China nodded, and Sean went on, "You also have to take into account the possible failure of the raid. If that happens and you have bet all your Stingers on one throw of the dice Sean shrugged.

  "Yes, of course, it's wise to keep half of the missiles in reserve.

  Even if the raid fails we will not be left entirely helpless. Carry on."

  Alphonso went through the plan step by step, illustrating wi lo red pebbles how the missile teams would move into position and he in readiness five hundred meters from the perimeter of the gunship laager, two teams confronting each sandbagged emplacement.

  At the signal of a red flare, the assault team would attack in full force from the south, hitting any fuel tankers that might be on the rail spur with RPS-7 rocket fire, sweeping the interior of the laager with mortar fire, and then launching a frontal assault on the southern perimeter.

  "The hen shaw will take fright as soon as the shooting begins," Alphonso explained. "They will try to escape by flying away, but there will be a moment when they rise from the earth that they will still be low down, standing still in the air, the way a falcon hovers before it stoops. That is the moment we will kill them."

  Sean and China discussed every aspect of the plan until at last China was satisfied.

  "So when will you move out?"

  "You keep saying' you Sean pulled him up. "I'm not having anything more to do with it. Sergeant Alphonso will lead the attack. They'll move out this evening two hours before dark to penetrate the Frelimo lines during the night, lay up in cover tomorrow, and launch the attack tomorrow night."

  "Very well," China agreed. "I'll address the men now."

  He was a compelling orator, Sean admitted to himself, as he listened to China reminding them of the consequences of a Frelimo victory and exhorting them to deeds of valor and self-sacrifice. By the time he ceased speaking, their faces were shining and their eyes sparkled with patriotic fervor. General China raised his voice.

  "You are warriors, so let me hear you sing the Renamo battle anthem. 19 The forest echoed and rang to the haunting beauty of their massed voices, and Sean found his vision dissolving into a blur as his eyes filled with emotion. He had not realized how much these men had come to mean to him until now, when he was about to leave them.

  "Colonel, I would like to speak to you in private," General China broke into his sentimental reverie. "Please come with me."

  With a word to Clauffia and Job, Sean excused himself. "Give them each one more run with the simulator."

  He fell in beside General China and as they set out for the headquarters bunker, Sean took no notice of the fact that China's bodyguard did not accompany them but remained at the entrance of the amphitheater in an arrogant manner.

  When they reached the command bunker, General China led them through to his underground office. There was tea ready for them, and Sean piled brown sugar into his mug and savored the first steaming mouthful.

  "So what did you want to tell me?" he asked.

  China was standing with his back to him, studying the wall map Frelimo offensive with on which he had marked the developing colored pins. He did not answer Scan's question, and Sean would not pander to him by asking again. He sipped at the tea and waited.

  A signaler came through from the radio room and handed China a message flimsy. As he read it, the General exclaimed with disgust tinged with anxiety and reached up to move a group of colored pins on the map. Frelimo had broken through in the west and were closing in remorselessly.

  "We are not containing them," China told Sean without looking around. Another messenger ducked into the bunker. He was one of China's personal bodyguards, wearing the distinctive maroon beret. He whispered something to China, and Sean thought he heard the word "American." It quickened his interest.

  China smiled briefly and dismissed the man with a nod before he "t work," he said.

  turned to Sean. "It won "What won't work?"

  "The attack as you have planned it."

  "Nothing is certain in war, as you should know, General. But I disagree. The plan has about a sixty percent chance of total success. That's pretty good odds."

  "The odds would be considerably higher, perhaps eighty percent, if you led the attack, Colonel Courtney."

  "I'm flattered by your estimate. However, it's hypothetical. I'm not leading it. I'm going home."

  "No, Colonel. You are leading the attack."

  "We had a bargain."

  "Bargain?" China smiled. "Don't be naive. I make bargains and break them as the need arises. The need has arisen, I'm afraid."

  Sean sprang to his feet, his face pale as candle wax beneath the deep tan. "I'm going," he said. Despite his fury, he managed to keep his voice thin and tight. "I'm taking my people, and I'm leaving now. Right away. You'll have to kill me to stop me."

  China touched his deaf ear and smiled again. "That notion is not without its attractions, I assure you, Colonel. However, I don't think it will come to that."

  "We'll see." Sean kicked back the sto al on which he had been sitting, and it hit the wall and crashed over on its side. He turned and ducked out of the low doorway.

  "You'll be back," China assured him softly, but Sean gave no sign of having heard him. He came out in the sunlight and strode down toward the river.

  He had reached the amphitheater before he realized that something was desperately amiss.

  The Shanganes so t rigid at their places upon the slope; they seemed not to have moved since he had last seen them. Alphonso's features were graven in black ironstone, expressionless and dull, the shield of deliberate stupidity behind which the African distances himself from powers and forces against which he has no other defense.

  Job was sprawled across the table in the center of the amphitheater. Ms tunic was floury with dust, and his cap lay in the dirt at his feet. He shook his head in a dazed, uncertain fashion, and drops of blood dripped from his nose.

  "What happened?" Sean ran to him, and Job stared at him, trying to focus his eyes. He had been brutally beaten. His lips were swollen into purple bruises, his mouth full of blood that stained his teeth like red wine. One eyebrow was cut through, a deep jagged split from which blood trickled down the side of his nose. Blood welled out of both nostrils, swelling into bright pink bubbles as he breathed through it. There were lumps on his forehead like overripe grapes, and the lobe of one ear was torn. Blood dripped onto the front of his dusty tunic.

  shoulder.

  "Job, what the hell,-?" Sean caught him by the

  "WhaT "I tried to stop them"" Job blurted out, his eyes fixed on Sean's face. "I tried!"

  "Take it easy."

  Sean tried to lead him to a seat, but he shook Scan's hands away and said, "Claudia."

  A flash frost of dread chilled Sean's belly. "Claudia!" he repeated, and looked around him wildly. "Where is she, Job? What happened?"

  "They took her," Job repeated. "China's goons. I tried to stop them."

  Sean reached for the pistol on his webbing belt. "Where is she, Job?" The pistol grip fed his hand.

  "I don't know." Job Swiped the palm of his hand down his face and looked at the blood. "I was out cold, I don't know for how long."

  "China, you turd-munching bastard, you are going to die." Sean whirled, ready to go charging back to the headquarters bunker.
<
br />   "Sean, think first!" Job called urgently, and Sean checked. So often Job had saved him with those two words: "Think first!"

  It required an enormous effort of will, but for seconds Sean managed to keep his head above the wave of his killing rage. "The manuals, Job!" he gritted out. "Burn them"" Job blinked at him through the blood that spilled from the split eyebrow. "Burn the manuals!" Sean repeated. "Insurance, wan.

  We are the only ones who know."

  Job's expression cleared. "And the cassettes!" he exclaimed.

  "Right!" Sean said. "The cassettes. Give them to me."

  While Job hastily repacked the attack cassettes into their carrying case, Sean walked across to where Alphonso sat at the front of the amphitheater and unhooked a phosphorus grenade from his belt.

  Working swiftly, he used his pistol lanyard and the phosphorus grenade to rig a makeshift self-destruction device in the interior of the case of attack cassettes. He hooked the clip of his pistol lanyard through the pin of the grenade and laid the grenade itself in the middle of the case. Using the point of a bayonet, he drilled a hole through the rid of the carrying case and threaded the end of the lanyard through it. When he locked the case, he looped the free end of the lanyard securely around his own wrist.

  "Let China try and get them away from me now," he said grimly. If the case were jerked out of his grip, or if he let it fall, the lanyard would pull the pin of the grenade, destroying not only the contents but anybody standing nearby. He waited just long enough to watch Job set a match to the pile of instruction manuals.

  Once they were fully ablaze he ordered Job, "Stay here, make certain they are burned to ashes."

  Then, lugging the case of cassettes, he started back to the headquarters bunker.

  "I said you would be back," China greeted him, but that icy sardonic smile faded swiftly as he saw the case Sean carried and the lanyard looped around his wrist.

  Sean lifted the case in front of him and flaunted it in China's face. "There is the Hind squadron, China," he said, keeping his voice level with an effort. "Without this your Stingers are useless to YOU."

  China's eyes flicked toward the entrance of the dugout.

  "Don't even think about it," Sean warned him. "There is a grenade inside the case, a phosphorus grenade. This lanyard is attached to the firing pin. If I drop it, like if I was to die suddenly or someone were to pull it out of my hand, the whole lot goes up in a nice little bonfire, happy fifth of November."

  They stared at each other across the desk.

  "So this is a pretty little stalemate, Colonel." China's smile was reborn, colder and more deadly than Sean had ever seen it before.

  "Where is Claudia Monterro?" Sean asked. China raised his voice, summoning an orderly from the radio room.

  "Bring the woman!" he ordered, and they waited, both of them poised and alert, watching each other's eyes.

  "I should have thought of the cassettes," China said in conversational tones. "That was good, Colonel. Very good. You can see why I want you to lead the attack."

  "While we are on the subject," Sean replied, "I have also burned the instruction manuals. There are only three of us-Job, Claudia, and me-who understand the Stingers."

  "What about the Shanganes-Alphonso, Ferdinand?" China challenged.

  Sean grinned at him like a death 9s head. "Not on, China. They know how to shoot them, but they don't have any idea how to program the microprocessors. You need us, China. Without us the Hinds are coming after you, and there's not a damned thing you can do about it. So don't fool with me. I have your survival in my hands."

  There was a scuffle in the outer room, and both of them looked to the entrance as Claudia was pushed through from the radio room. Her hands were once more manacled behind her back, she tumbled into her face and down had lost her cap, and her hair had her neck.

  "Sean!" she blurted when she saw him. She pulled against the hands of the two bodyguards who held her, trying to reach him.

  They jerked her back and threw her against the side wall of the dugout.

  "Tell your baboons to knock that off," Sean snarled. When they glowered at him, China restrained them with a sharp order.

  "]?ut that woman in the chair!"

  They forced her into the solid mahogany seat and at another order from China used the manacles to chain her wrists securely to the heavy arms of the chair.

  "I have something of yours, Colonel, and you have something of mine. Shall we workout a deal?" General China suggested.

  text us go, Sean aid promptly. "At the border, I'll hand over the cassettes." China shook his head regretfully.

  "Not acceptable. Here is my counteroffer. You lead the attack on the Hind laager. When it is completed successfully, Alphonso will escort you to the border."

  Sean raised the booby-trapped case head high, and China smiled. In retaliation he drew the trench knife from its sheath on his belt. It was ivory-handled with a five-inch blade.

  Still smiling, he lifted a single hair from Claudia's scalp and with a sharp jerk pulled it out. He held it up between thumb and forefinger and touched the hair with the blade. Half of the dark strand fell away and floated down to the earthen floor of the dugout. mat is how sharp it is," China said softly.

  "If you kill her you haven't got anything to bargain with."

  Sean's voice was harsh with strain, and he was sweating.

  "I have this to bargain with," China replied. He nodded to his j guards at the doorway.

  They led in someone Sean had never seen before, an apparition with an ancient skull-like head. The hair had fallen out in tufts, A leaving shiny black patches on the scalp. The lips had shrunk and peeled back to expose teeth that were too large and white for that ruined head.

  At a word from China the guards stripped away the single filthy ragged shift that covered the body, leaving it entirely naked, and for the first time Sean realized that it was a woman.

  Her body reminded him of the horror pictures he had seen of the survivors of Dachau and Belsen. She was a skeleton covered with baggy skin, her empty dugs dangled over the rack of her ribs, her stomach was drawn in so her pelvic girdle was an empty bony basin. Her arms and legs were fleshless, the bony elbows and knees grotesquely enlarged.

  Sean and Claudia stared at her with horror, unable to speak with the shock of it.

  "Look at the lesions on her abdomen," China invited in a pleasant voice. Numbly they obeyed.

  They were blind boils, hard and shiny as ripe black grapes beneath the skin, covering her lower belly and disappearing into the wiry mop of pubic hair.

  While their attention was on this pathetic figure, China reached down quickly with the knife and touched the back of Claudia's hand with the point of the blade. Claudia gasped and tried to jerk her hand away, but it came up short against the manacle chain and she stared down as a thin snake of bright blood trickled down her forefinger and dripped onto the floor.

  "What did you do that for, you snot-gobbling bastard?" Sean demanded.

  China smiled. "It's only a scratch."

  Slowly he reached out toward the naked skeletal figure of the black woman, pointing with the knife at her shrunken belly.