Master of the Game motg-1

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Master of the Game motg-1 Page 7

by Sidney Sheldon


  Banda watched him, puzzled. "Something funny?"

  "Before, when I went looking for diamonds I had a ton of equipment. Now, all I'm carrying is a compass. It seems too easy."

  Banda said quietly, "I don't think that's going to be our problem, Mr. McGregor."

  "It's time you called me Jamie."

  Banda shook his head in wonder. "You really come from a faraway country." He grinned, showing even white teeth. "What the hell—they can hang me only once." He tasted the name on his lips, then said it aloud. "Jamie."

  "Let's go get those diamonds."

  They pushed the raft off the sand into the shallow water and both men leaped aboard and started paddling. It took them a few minutes to get adjusted to the pitching and yawing of their strange craft. It was like riding a bobbing cork, but it was going to work. The raft was responding perfectly, moving north with the swift current. Jamie raised the sail and headed out to sea. By the time the villagers awoke, the raft was well over the horizon.

  "We've done it!" Jamie said.

  Banda shook his head. "It's not over yet." He trailed a hand in the cold Benguela current. "It's just beginning."

  They sailed on, due north past Alexander Bay and the mouth of the Orange River, seeing no signs of life except for flocks of Cape cormorants heading home, and a flight of colorful greater flamingos. Although there were tins of beef and cold rice, and fruit and two canteens of water aboard, they were too nervous to eat. Jamie refused to let his imagination linger on the dangers that lay ahead, but Banda could not help it. He had been there. He was remembering the brutal guards with guns and the dogs and the terrible flesh-tearing land mines, and he wondered how he had ever allowed himself to be talked into this insane venture. He looked over at the Scotsman and thought, He is the bigger fool. If I die, I die for my baby sister. What does he die for?

  At noon the sharks came. There were half a dozen of them, their fins cutting through the water as they sped toward the raft.

  "Black-fin sharks," Banda announced. "They're man-eaters."

  Jamie watched the fins skimming closer to the raft. "What do we do?"

  Banda swallowed nervously. 'Truthfully, Jamie, this is my very first experience of this nature."

  The back of a shark nudged the raft, and it almost capsized. The two men grabbed the mast for support. Jamie picked up a paddle and shoved it at a shark, and an instant later the paddle was bitten in two. The sharks surrounded the raft now, swimming in lazy circles, their enormous bodies rubbing up close against the small craft. Each nudge tilted the raft at a precarious angle. It was going to capsize at any moment.

  "We've got to get rid of them before they sink us."

  "Get rid of them with what?" Banda asked.

  "Hand me a tin of beef."

  "You must be joking. A tin of beef won't satisfy them. They want us!"

  There was another jolt, and the raft heeled over.

  "The beef!" Jamie yelled. "Get it!"

  A second later Banda placed a tin in Jamie's hand. The raft lurched sickeningly.

  "Open it halfway. Hurry!"

  Banda pulled out his pocketknife and pried the top of the can half open. Jamie took it from him. He felt the sharp, broken edges of the metal with his finger.

  "Hold tight'" Jamie warned.

  He knelt down at the edge of the raft and waited. Almost immediately, a shark approached the raft, its huge mouth wide open, revealing long rows of evil, grinning teeth. Jamie went for the eyes. With all his strength, he reached out with both hands and scraped the edge of the broken metal against the eye of the shark, ripping it open. The shark lifted its great body, and for an instant the raft stood on end. The water around them was suddenly stained red. There was a giant thrashing as the sharks moved in on the wounded member of the school. The raft was forgotten. Jamie and Banda watched the great sharks tearing at their helpless victim as the raft sailed farther and farther away until finally the sharks were out of sight.

  Banda took a deep breath and said softly, "One day I'm going to tell my grandchildren about this. Do you think they'll believe me?"

  And they laughed until the tears streamed down their faces.

  Late that afternoon, Jamie checked his pocket watch. "We should be off the diamond beach around midnight. Sunrise is at six-fifteen. That means we'll have four hours to pick up the diamonds and two hours to get back to sea and out of sight. Will four hours be enough, Banda?"

  "A hundred men couldn't live long enough to spend what you can pick up on that beach in four hours." I just hope we live long enough to pick them up___

  They sailed steadily north for the rest of that day, carried by the wind and the tide. Toward evening a small island loomed ahead of them. It looked to be no more than two hundred yards in circumference. As they approached the island, the acrid smell of ammonia grew strong, bringing tears to their eyes. Jamie could understand why no one lived here. The stench was overpowering. But it would make a perfect place for them to hide until nightfall. Jamie adjusted the sail, and the small raft bumped against the rocky shore of the low-lying island. Banda made the raft fast, and the two men stepped ashore. The entire island was covered with what appeared to be millions of birds: cormorants, pelicans, gannets, penguins and flamingos. The thick air was so noisome that it was impossible to breathe. They took half a dozen steps and were thigh deep in guano. "Let's get back to the raft," Jamie gasped. Without a word, Banda followed him. As they turned to retreat, a flock of pelicans took to the air, revealing an open space on the ground. Lying there were three men. There was no telling how long they had been dead. Their corpses had been perfectly preserved by the ammonia in the air, and their hair had turned a bright red.

  A minute later Jamie and Banda were back on the raft, headed out to sea.

  They lay off the coast, sail lowered, waiting.

  "We'll stay out here until midnight. Then we go in."

  They sat together in silence, each in his own way preparing for whatever lay ahead. The sun was low on the western horizon, painting the dying sky with the wild colors of a mad artist. Then suddenly they were blanketed in darkness.

  They waited for two more hours, and Jamie hoisted the sail. The raft began to move east toward the unseen shore. Overhead, clouds parted and a thin wash of moonlight paled down. The raft picked up speed. In the distance the two men could begin to see the faint smudge of the coast. The wind blew stronger, snapping at the sail, pushing the raft toward the shore at an ever-increasing speed. Soon, they could clearly make out the outline of the land, a gigantic parapet of rock. Even from that distance it was possible to see and hear the enormous whitecaps that exploded like thunder over the reefs. It was a terrifying sight from afar, and Jamie wondered what it would be like up close.

  He found himself whispering. "You're sure the beach side isn't guarded?"

  Banda did not answer. He pointed to the reefs ahead. Jamie knew what he meant. The reefs were more deadly than any trap man could devise. They were the guardians of the sea, and they never relaxed, never slept. They lay there, patiently waiting for their prey to come to them. Well, Jamie thought, we're going to outsmart you. We're going to float over you.

  The raft had carried them that far. It would carry them the rest of the way. The shore was racing toward them now, and they began to feel the heavy swell of the giant combers. Banda was holding tightly to the mast.

  "We're moving pretty fast."

  "Don't worry," Jamie reassured him. "When we get closer, I'll lower the sail. That will cut our speed. We'll slide over the reefs nice and easy."

  The momentum of the wind and the waves was picking up, hurtling the raft toward the deadly reefs. Jamie quickly estimated the remaining distance and decided the waves would carry them in to shore without the help of the sail. Hurriedly, he lowered it. Their momentum did not even slow. The raft was completely in the grip of the huge waves now, out of control, hurled forward from one giant crest to the next. The raft was rocking so violently that the men had to cling to it with
both hands. Jamie had expected the entrance to be difficult, but he was totally unprepared for the fury of the seething maelstrom they faced. The reefs loomed in front of them with startling clarity. They could see the waves rushing in against the jagged rocks and exploding into huge, angry geysers. The entire success of the plan depended on bringing the raft over the reefs intact so that they could use it for their escape. Without it, they were dead men.

  They were bearing down on the reefs now, propelled by the terrifying power of the waves. The roar of the wind was deafening. The raft was suddenly lifted high in the air by an enormous wave and flung toward the rocks.

  "Hold on, Banda!" Jamie shouted. "We're going in!"

  The giant breaker picked up the raft like a matchstick and started to carry it toward shore, over the reef. Both men were hanging on for their lives, fighting the violent bucking mot that threatened to sweep them into the water. Jamie glanced down and caught a glimpse of the razor-sharp reefs below them. In another moment they would be sailing over them, safe in the haven of the shore.

  At that instant there was a sudden, tearing wrench as a reef caught one of the barrels underneath the raft and ripped it away. The raft gave a sharp lurch, and another barrel was torn away, and then another. The wind and the pounding waves and the hungry reef were playing with the raft like a toy, tossing it backward and forward, spinning it wildly in the air. Jamie and Banda felt the thin wood begin to split beneath their feet. "Jump!" Jamie yelled.

  He dived over the side of the raft, and a giant wave picked him up and shot him toward the beach at the speed of a catapult. He was caught in the grip of an element that was powerful beyond belief. He had no control over what was happening. He was a part of the wave. It was over him and under him and inside him. His body was twisting and turning and his lungs were bursting. Lights began to explode in his head. Jamie thought, I'm drowning. And his body was thrown up onto the sandy shore. Jamie lay there gasping, fighting for breath, filling his lungs with the cool, fresh sea air. His chest and legs were scraped raw from the sand, and his clothes were in shreds. Slowly, he sat up and looked around for Banda. He was crouching ten yards away, vomiting seawater. Jamie got to his feet and staggered over to him. "You all right?"

  Banda nodded. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at Jamie. "I can't swim."

  Jamie helped him to his feet. The two men turned to look at the reef. There was not a sign of their raft. It had been torn to pieces in the wild ocean. They had gotten into the diamond field. There was no way to get out.

  Behind them was the raging ocean. Ahead was unbroken desert from the sea to the foothills of the distant, rugged, purple mountains of the Richterveld escarpment, a world of kloofs and canyons and twisted peaks, lit by the pale moon. At the foot of the mountains was the Hexenkessel Valley—"the witch's cauldron"—a bleak wind trap. It was a primeval, desolate landscape that went back to the beginning of time itself. The only clue that man had ever set foot in this place was a crudely printed sign pounded into the sand. By the light of the moon, they read:

  VERBODE GEBIED SPERRGEBIET

  Forbidden.

  There was no escape toward the sea. The only direction left open to them was the Namib Desert.

  "We'll have to try to cross it and take our chances," Jamie said.

  Banda shook his head. "The guards will shoot us on sight or hang us. Even if we were lucky enough to slip by the guards and dogs, there's no way to get by the land mines. We're dead men."

  There was no fear in him, only a resigned acceptance of his fate. Jamie looked at Banda and felt a sense of deep regret. He had brought the black man into this, and not once had Banda complained. Even now, knowing there was no escape for them, he did not utter one word of reproach.

  Jamie turned to look at the wall of angry waves smashing at the shore, and he thought it was a miracle that they had gotten as far as they had. It was two a.m., four hours before dawn and discovery, and they were both still in one piece. I'll be damned if I'm ready to give up, Jamie thought.

  "Let's go to work, Banda."

  Banda blinked. "Doing what?"

  "We came here to get diamonds, didn't we? Let's get them."

  Banda stared at the wild-eyed man with his white hair plastered to his skull and his sopping trousers hanging in shreds around his legs. "What are you talking about?"

  "You said they're going to kill us on sight, right? Well, they Blight as well kill us rich as poor. A miracle got us in here. Maybe a miracle will get us out. And if we do get out, I damned well don't plan to leave empty-handed."

  "You're crazy," Banda said softly.

  "Or we wouldn't be here," Jamie reminded him.

  Banda shrugged. "What the hell. I have nothing else to do until they find us."

  Jamie stripped off his tattered shirt, and Banda understood and did the same. "Now. Where are all these big diamonds that you've been talking about?" "They're everywhere," Banda promised. And he added, "Like the guards and the dogs." "We'll worry about them later. When do they come down to the beach?"

  "When it gets light."

  Jamie thought for a moment. "Is there a part of the beach where they don't come? Someplace we could hide?"

  "There's no part of this beach they don't come to, and there's no place you could hide a fly."

  Jamie slapped Banda on the shoulder. "Right, then. Let's go."

  Jamie watched as Banda got down on his hands and knees and began slowly crawling along the beach, his fingers sifting sand as he moved. In less than two minutes, he stopped and held up a stone. "I found one!"

  Jamie lowered himself to the sand and began moving. The first two stones he found were small. The third must have weighed over fifteen carats. He sat there looking at it for a long moment. It was incredible to him that such a fortune could be picked up so easily. And it all belonged to Salomon van der Merwe and his partners. Jamie kept moving.

  In the next three hours, the two men collected more than forty diamonds ranging from two carats to thirty carats. The sky in the east was beginning to lighten. It was the time Jamie had planned to leave, to jump back on the raft, sail over the reefs and make their escape. It was useless to think about that now.

  "It will be dawn soon," Jamie said. "Let's see how many more diamonds we can find."

  "We're not going to live to spend any of this. You want to die very rich, don't you?"

  "I don't want to die at all."

  They resumed their search, mindlessly scooping up diamond after diamond, and it was as though a madness had taken possession of them. Their piles of diamonds increased, until sixty diamonds worth a king's ransom lay in their torn shirts.

  "Do you want me to carry these?" Banda asked.

  "No. We can both—" And then Jamie realized what was on Banda's mind. The one caught in actual possession of the diamonds would die more slowly and painfully.

  "I'll take them," Jamie said. He dumped the diamonds into the rag that was left of his shirt, and carefully tied it in a knot. The horizon was light gray now, and the east was becoming stained with the colors of the rising sun.

  What next? That was the question I What was the answer? They could stand there and die, or they could move inland toward the desert and die.

  "Let's move."

  Jamie and Banda slowly began walking away from the sea, side by side. "Where do the land mines start?"

  "About a hundred yards up ahead." In the far distance, they heard a dog bark. "I don't think we're going to have to worry about the land mines. The dogs are heading this way. The morning shift is coming to work." "How soon before they reach us?" "Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten."

  It was almost full dawn now. What had been vague, shimmering patterns turned into small sand dunes and distant mountains. There was no place to hide. "How many guards are on a shift?" Banda thought for a moment. "About ten." "Ten guards aren't many for a beach this big." "One guard is plenty. They've got guns and dogs. The guards aren't blind, and we're not invisible."

  The sound of th
e barking was closer now. Jamie said, "Banda, I'm sorry. I should never have gotten you into this." "You didn't."

  And Jamie understood what he meant. They could hear voices calling in the distance. Jamie and Banda reached a small dune. "What if we buried ourselves in the sand?"

  'That has been tried. The dogs would find us and rip our throats out. I want my death to be quick. I'm going to let them see me, then start running. That way they'll shoot me. I—I don't want the dogs to get me."

  Jamie gripped Banda's arm. "We may die, but I'll be damned if we're going to run to our deaths. Let's make them work for it."

  They could begin to distinguish words in the distance. "Keep moving, you lazy bastards," a voice was yelling. "Follow me ... stay in line.... You've all had a good night's sleep___Now let's get some work done...."

  In spite of his brave words, Jamie found he was retreating from the voice. He turned to look at the sea again. Was drowning an easier way to die? He watched the reefs tearing viciously the demon waves breaking over them and he suddenly saw something else, something beyond the waves. He could not understand what it was. "Banda, look ..."

  Far out at sea an impenetrable gray wall was moving toward them, blown by the powerful westerly winds.

  "It's the sea mis!" Banda exclaimed. "It comes in two or three times a week."

  While they were talking, the mis moved closer, like a gigantic gray curtain sweeping across the horizon, blotting out the sky.

  The voices had moved closer, too. "Den dousant! Damn this mis! Another slowdown. The bosses ain't gonna like this___"

  "We've got a chance!" Jamie said. He was whispering now.

  "What chance?"

 

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