Wilbur Smith - B4 The Leopard Hunts In Darkness

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by B4 The Leopard Hunts In Darkness(Lit)


  "Babes," moaned Morgan, "babes in the tupping woods." He braced up. "Well, anyway, that is over. Your contract is terminated. If there was anything sooner than immediately, that would be the date of termination."

  "I sent Henry a full report three days ago-"

  "Yeah!" Morgan nodded resignedly. "About Peter Fungabera being the Moscow candidate. Peter is a Shana, the Ruskies would never touch him. just so you put it out of your head, General Fungabera is a Russian-hater from way back and we have a very good relationship with Peter Fungabera very good indeed. Enough said."

  "For God's sake, Morgan. Then he is playing a double game. I had it from his own aide. Captain Timon Nbebi!"

  "Who is now conveniently dead," Morgan reminded him. "If it makes you feel better, we've put your report into the computer with a" D-minus credibility rating. Henry Pickering sends you his sincere thanks." Sally-Anne cut in, "Morgan, you have seen my photographs of the burned villages, the dead children, the devastation caused by the Third Brigade-"

  "Like the man said,ftgs to make omelettes," Morgan interrupted. "Natur4y we don't like the violence, but Fungabera is anti-Russian. The Matabele are pro-Russian.

  We have to support the anti-communist regimes, even if we don't like some of their methods there are women and aking a beating in El Salvador. So does that me in that we must stop aid to that country? Must we back out of any situation where our people aren't sticking precisely to the rules of the Geneva Convention? Grow up, Sally-Anne, this is the real world." There was silence in the tiny ward, except for the pinking of the galvanized iron roof as it expanded in the noon heat. On the parched brown lawn beyond the window, the walking patients were, dressed in a uniform of pink bath robes stamped across the back with the initials of the Botswana Health Department.

  "That's all you came to tell usr Sally-Anne asked at last.

  "Isn't it enoughr Morgan stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. "There is one other thing, Craig. Henry Pickering asked me to tell you that the Land Bank of Zimbabwe has repudiated its suretyship for your loan. Their grounds are that you have been officially declared an enemy of the people. Henry Pickering asked me to tell you they will be looking to you for repayment of capital and interest. Does this make sense to your "Unfortunately," Craig nodded glumly.

  "He said he would try to work something out with you when you reach New York, but in the meantime they have been forced to freeze all your bank accounts and serve your publishers with a restraining order to withhold all future royalty payments."

  "That figures."

  "Sorry, Craig. It sounds real tough." Morgan held out his hand. "I liked your book, I really did, and I liked you. I'm just sorry it all had to end this way." Craig walked with him as far as the green Ford with diplomatic registration plates that Morgan Oxford was driving.

  "Will you do me one last favourr "If I can." Morgan looked suspicions.

  "Can you see that a package is delivered to my publisher in New Yorkr And when Morgan's suspicions were unabated, "It's only the final pages of my i -Lew manuscript, give you my word." Hill Okay, then," said Morgan Oxford dubiously. "I'll see he gets it." Craig fetched the British Airways bag from the hired Land-Rover at the far end of the car park. "Look after it," he pleaded. "It's my heart's blood and my hope of salvation." He watched the green Ford drive away and went back into the hospital building.

  "What was all that about the banks and loansr Sally Anne asked as he entered her ward.

  "It means that when I asked you to marry me I was a millionaire." Craig came back to sit on the edge of her bed.

  "Now I'm just about as broke as anybody who has no assets and owes a couple of million bucks can be."

  "You've got the new book. Ashe Levy says it's a winner."

  "Darling, if I wrote a bestseller every year for the rest of my life, I would just about keep level with the interest payments on what I owe to Henry Pickering and his banks." She stared at him.

  "So what I am trying to say is this my original offer is up for review, you've got a chance to change your mind.

  You don't have to marry me."

  "Craig," she said. "Lock the door and pull the shutters."

  "You've got to be joking not here, not now! It's probably a serious offence in this country, illicit cohabitation or something." Listen, mister, when you are wanted for murder and armed insurrection, a little bit of illicit nip and tuck with your future husband, even, if he is a pauper, sits lightly on the conscience." raig picked Sally -Anne up from the hospital the following morning. She wore the same jeans, shirt and trainers as she had when she was admitted.

  "Sister had them washed and mended-" she stopped as she saw the Land-Rover. "What's this? I thought we were broke."

  "The computer hasn't had the happy news yet, they are still honouring my American Express card."

  "Is that kosher?"

  "When you owe five big Ms, lady, another couple al hundred bucks sits pretty lightly on the conscience." lie grinned at her as he turned the ignition key and when the engine fired, said cheerfully, "Eat your heart out, Mr. Hertz."

  "You're taking it very well, Craig." She slid across the seat closer to him.

  "We are both alive that is cause for fireworks and general rejoicing. As for the money well, I don't think I aire. When I've got money was truly cut out to be a million I spend all my time worrying about losing it. It saps mi energy. Now that I've lost it, I feel free again in a funny sort of way."

  "You're happy to have lost everything you ever owned?" She turned sideways in the seat to look at him. "Even for you, that's cuckoo!" I'm not happy, no," he denied the charge. "What I truly regret is losing King's Lynn and Zambezi Waters.

  We could have made something wonderful out of them, you and I. I regret that very much and I regret Tungata Zebiwe."

  "Yes. We destroyed him." Both of them were sobered and saddened. "If there, was only something we could do for him."

  "Not a damned thing." Craig shook his head. "Despite Timon's assurances, we don't know that he is still alive, and even if he is, we don't have the faintest idea where he is, or how to find him." They rattled across the railway lines and into the main street of Francistown.

  ""Jewel of the north"," said Craig. "Population two thousand, main industry consumption of alcoholic beverage, reason for existing uncertain." He parked outside the single hotel. "As you can see, total population now in permanent residence in the public bar." However, the young Botswana receptionist was pretty and efficient.

  "Mr. Mellow, there is a lady waiting to see you," she called, as Craig entered the lobby. Craig did not recognize his visitor, not until Sally-Anne ran forward to embrace her.

  "Sarah!" she cried. "How did you get here? How did you find usT Craig's room had two single beds with a dressing-table between them, a threadbare imitation Persian rug on the shiny red-painted cement floor and a single wooden chair.

  The two girls sat on one bed, with their legs curled up under them in that double-jointed feminine attitude.

  "They told me at the Red Cross that you had been found in the desert and brought in by the police, Miss Jay."

  "My name is Sally' Anne Sarah." Sarah smiled softly in acknowledgement. "I wasn't sure if you would want to see me again, not after the trial. But then my friends here told me how you had been ill-treated by Fungabera's soldiers. I thought you might have realized that I was right all along, that Tungata Zebiwe was not a criminal and that he needs friends now." She turned towards Craig. "He was your friend, Mr. Mellow. He told me Rout you. He spoke of you with respect and great feeling. He was afraid for you, when he heard that you had returned to Zimbabwe. He realized that you wanted to take up your family land in Matabeleland, and he knew there were going to be terrible troubles and that you would be caught up in them. He said that you were too gentle for the hard times that were coming. He called you "Pupho", the dreamer, the gentle dreamer, but he said that you were also stubborn and obstinate. He wanted to save you from being hurt again. He said, "Last time he lost hi
s leg this time he could lose his life. To be his friend, I must make myself his enemy. I must drive him out of Zimbabwe."

  it Craig sat in the sttaight-backed wooden chair and remembered his stormy meeting with Tungata when he had come to him for assistance in acquiring King's Lynn.

  Had it been an act, then? Even now he found that hard tory so believe. Tungata's passion had been so real, his fit convincing.

  41 am sorry, Mr. Mellow. These are very rude things that I am saying about you. I am telling you only what Tungata said. He was your friend. He still is your friend."

  "It doesn't really matter any more, what he thought of me, "Craig murmured. "Sam is probably dead by now."

  "No!" For the first time Sarah raised her voice, her tone vehement, almost angry. "No, do not say that, never said that! He is alive. I have seen and spoken to him. They can never kill a man like thad" The chair creaked under Craig as he leaned forward eagerly. "You have seen him? When?"

  "Two weeks ago."

  "Where? Where was he?"

  "Tuti at the camp."

  "Sam alive!" Craig changed as he said it. TIte despondent slump of his shoulders squared out, he held his head at more alert angle and his eyes were brighter, more eager.

  He wasn t really looking at Sarah. He was looking at the wall above her head, trying to marshal the torrent of emotions and ideas that came at him, so he did not see that Sarah was weeping.

  It was Sally-Anne who put a protective and comforting arm about her, and Sarah sobbed. "Oh, my lord Tungata.

  The things they have done to him. They have starved and beaten him. He is likea village cur, all bones and scars.

  He walks likea very old man, only his eyes are still proud." Sally-Anne hugged her wordlessly. Craig jumped up from the chair and began to pace. The room was so small, he crossed it in four strides, turned and came back. Sally Anne dug in her pocket and found a crumpled tissue for Sarah.

  "When will the Cessna be ready?" Craig asked, without pausing in his stride. His artificial leg made a tiny click each time he swung it forward.

  "It's been ready since last week. I told you, didn't ! Sally-Anne replied distractedly, fussing over Sarah.

  "What is her all-up capacity?"

  "The Cessna? I've had six adults in her, but that was a squeeze. She's licensed for-" Sally' Anne stopped. Slowly her head turned from Sarah towards him and she stared at him in total disbelief.

  "In the love of all that's holy, Craig, are you out of your mind?" "Range fully loaded?" Craig ignored the question.

  "Twelve hundred nautical miles, throttle setting for maximum endurance but you can't be serious."

  "Okay." Craig was thinking aloud. "I can get a couple of drums in the Land-Rover. You can land and refuel on a pan right on the border I know a spot near Panda Matengal five hundred kilometres north of here. That is the closest point of entry-"

  "Craig, do you know what they'd do if they caught us?" Sally-Anne's voice was husky with shock.

  Sarah had the tiss& over her nose, but her eyes swivelled between thL* two of them as they spoke.

  "Weapons," Cra I ig muttered. "We'd need arms. Morgan Oxford? No, damn it, he's written us off."

  "Guns?" Sarah's voice was muffled by tears and tissue.

  "Guns and grenades," Craig agreed. "Explosives, whatever we can get."

  "I can get guns. Some of our people have escaped. They are here in Botswana. They had guns hidden in the bush from the war."

  "What kind? "Craig demanded.

  "Banana guns and hand grenades."

  "AKs," Craig rejoiced. "Sarah, you are a star."

  "Just the two of us?" Sally-Anne paled as she realized th at he truly meant it. "Two of us, against the entire Third Brigade is that what you are thinking about?" A "No, I'm coming with you." Sarah put aside the tissue.

  "There will be three of us."

  "Three of us, gread" said Sally-Anne.

  "Three of us bloody marvelous!" ack and stood in front of them.

  Craig came b "Number one: we are going to draw up a map of Tuti camp. We are going to put down every detail we can remember." He started pacing again, unable to stand still.

  "Number two: we meet with Sarahs friends and see how much help they can give us. Number dime: Sally-Anne takes the commercial flight down to Johannesburg and brings back the Cessna how long will that takeP 11 can be back in three days." Colour was coming back into Sally-Anne's cheeks. "That's if I decide to gaP okay! Fine!" Craig rubbed his hands together. "Now we M can start on the map." Craig ordered sandwiches and a bottle of w me to be sen t to the room and they worked through until 2 am.

  when Sarah left them with a promise to return at breakfast time. Craig folded the map carefully and then he and Sally-Anne climbed into one of the narrow beds together, but they were so keyed up that neither of them could sleep.

  "Sam was trying to protect me," Craig marvelled. "He was doing it for me, all along."

  "Tell me about him," Sally-Anne whispered and she lay against his chest and listened to him talk of their friendship. When at last he fell silent, she asked softly, "So you are serious about this thing?"

  "Deadly serious, but will you do it with me?"

  "It's crazy," she said. "It's plain dumb but let's do it then." he sooty black smoke from the beacon fires of oil rags that Craig had set climbed straight up in two columns into the clear desert sky. Craig and Sarah stood together on the bonnet of the Land' Rover staring into the south. This was the dry wild land of northeastern Botswana. The Zimbabwe border was thirty kilometres east of them, the flat and plain between pimpled with camel.

  thorn trees and blotched with the leprous white salt pans

  The mirage shimmered and tricked the eye so that the stunted trees on the far side of the pan seemed to swim and change shape like dark amoeba under a microscope. A spinning dust devil jumped up from the white pan surface, and swirled and swayed sinuously as a belly dancer, rising two hundred feet into the hot air until it collapsed again as suddenly as it had risen.

  The sound of the Cessna engine rose and fell and rose again on the heat-flawed air. "There!" Sarah pointed out the mosquito speck, low on the horizon.

  Craig made a last anxious appraisal of his makeshift landing, strip He had lit the beacon fires at each end of it as soon as they had pick el tip the first throb of the Cessna's motor. He had driven the Land-Rover back and forth between the beacons to mark the hard crust at the edge of the pan. Fifty metres out, the surface was treacherously soft.

  Now he looked back at the approaching aircraft. Sally Anne was banking low over the baobab trees, lining up with the strip he had set out for her. She made a prudent precautionary pass along it, her head twisted in the cockpit window as she examined it, then she came around again and touched down lightly, and taxied towards the Land Rover.

  "You were gone for ever." Craig seized her as she jumped down from the cockpit.

  "Three days," she protested with her feet off the ground.

  "That's for ever, "he said and kissed her.

  He set her down but kept one arm around her as he led her to the Land-Rover. After she had greeted Sarah, Craig introduced her to the two Matabele who were squatting in the shade of the Land-Rover.

  They rose courteously to meet her.

  "This is Jonas, and this is Aaron. They led us to the arms cache and they are giving us all the help they can." They were reserved and unsmiling young men with old eyes that had seen unspeakable things, but they were willing and quick.

  They pumped the Avgas from the forty-four-gallon drums on the back of the Land-Rover directly into the Cessna's wing tanks, while Craig stripped out the seats from the rear of the cockpit to reduce weight and give them cargo space.

  Then they began loading. Sally-Anne weighed each item of cargo on the spring balance that she had bought for the purpose, and entered it on her loading table. The ammunition was the heaviest part of the load. They had eight thousand rounds of 7.62 men ball Ps. Craig had broken bulk and repacked it in black pla
stic garbage -bags to save weight and space. It had been buried for years and many of the rounds were so corroded as to be useless.

  However, Craig had "hand-sorted it, and test-fired a few rounds from each case without a single misfire.

  Most of the rifles had also been corroded and Craig had worked through the nights by gas lantern, stripping and cannibalizing until he had twenty-five good weapons.

  There were also five Tokarev pistols and two cases of fragmentation grenades which seemed in better condition than the rifles. Craig had set off one grenade from each case, popping them down an ant-bear hole to a satisfactory Crump and cloud of dust. That had left forty-eight from the original rift),. Craig packed them in five cheap canvas haversacks that he had bought from a general dealer in Francistown.

 

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