Hyena Dawn (39 page)

He sank forwards, holding his head between his hands. ‘I can’t think of a way to get you out at present. You’ll have to stay in this village. If something does happen to me, Mnangagwa will come and help you.’

‘
But Tongogara, why don’t you just make for the border with me? Come back when things are safer.’

‘
A lifetime of waiting and my wife dead for the cause - I cannot turn back now, I would be betraying myself. I cannot explain to you how it will feel to be able to walk in the land of my birth knowing that I do not have to fear arrest, that I am not a second-class citizen. Independence on our own terms!’

‘
Independence on Russian terms.’

Now he was angry. ‘That is why I must stay! I do not want to see the Russians take control. They will be welcome as advisers, nothing more. I fear for my people who have fought for so long and at such a high cost. It is my responsibility to see that they are not betrayed.
¹

‘
I’m scared for you, Tongogara. You’re dealing with a great power, I don’t think you can win.’

The village was quiet outside, only the ordinary sounds of the African night broke the stillness.

Before he left Tongogara kissed her again - a man caught between his own ideals and the grosser ambitions of power politics. He didn’t stand a chance, she knew.

Much later, she stepped outside, the night air cool and refreshing after the closeness of the reed hut. At least she was alive, and would stay that way as long as she remained hidden. Just the fact that Tongogara had come to visit her had lifted her spirits. She had made it this far - she would not give up the hope of getting out of Mozambique.

Sam thought about the powerful nations that had ruled the world through history, how they had all eventually been overrun, their characters completely changed. Would Africa be any different? She shivered in the evening air, and tried not to think about tomorrow.

Not far away from where Sam was standing in the darkness, a group of men were spending a far less pleasant, though infinitely more rewarding evening. Michael Strong had leopard-crawled some half a kilometre round the main Beira airfield, laying explosive charges in strategic places. Behind him followed four other men, moving just as silently and purposefully.

It was a deadly dangerous business on two counts. Firstly, they might be detected by the Russians at any minute, and secondly, they might accidentally set off one of their charges. Each charge had to be carefully buried beneath the ground along with its linking fuse wire. For complete success, all the charges would have to detonate at exactly the same time, and this would turn the runway into a giant, smoking pile of concrete and tarmac. No plane would ever be able to take off.

Michael desperately wanted a cigarette, but he knew that the red glow of the lighted ash would be almost certain suicide.

For himself, Michael wouldn’t have dreamed of sabotaging the runway in this manner with a force he didn’t know. It was only because Rayne had hand-picked these men that he was confident they could do the job without detection. Carefully, he attached the wires to another charge.

Night lay over the Indian Ocean. In the spectacular semi-circular lounge of the villa General Vorotnikov had procured for him, Bernard Aschaar rose, drew deeply on his cigar, and then walked out onto the patio overlooking the sea. The General followed him and they both stared thoughtfully into the night.

‘
General, we have a saying in business: you must always expect the unexpected. You say you are confident - yet you need the weapons you asked me about. In short, you have a serious problem on your hands just at a time when you should be without problems.’

The General was about to interrupt, but Bernard held up his hand.

‘
I have already made contact with Mr Singh. He informs me that there are two men in Beira who are gun-runners. I have further discovered that they have had dinner this evening with two of your senior officers. This is an odd occurrence that I hope does not indicate a breach of security in your ranks.’

The General smiled, surprising Bernard. ‘Mr Aschaar, I was aware of the arrival of those two men in Beira. However, I was not aware of their business. The two officers to whom you have referred are members of the KGB. They are merely attempting to find out a little more about our friends.’

‘
You have restored my confidence, General. I should think we could arrange a meeting tomorrow with these men. We’ll see if we can organise the purchase of the assault rifles you need. If they agree, and are genuine, you should not have to wait long for your delivery.’

Guy and Rayne made it back to the hotel just after midnight. Rayne had the definite impression that their two Russian friends had hoped for rather more information than they’d actually received . . .

The meal had changed everything. Rayne couldn’t leave Mozambique now until he had found Sam. The problem was, he hadn’t a clue where to find the men who’d taken her away from the Russians. Shit, he thought, sitting down on the bed in the peace of his own room, whoever was looking after her was taking one hell of a risk. And there was no way he could find out more without endangering the whole success of his mission.

He was worried about their cover, his and Guy’s. What the hell would happen if the Russians did approach them for guns? That could put them in a very tight spot.

He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He did not think he was going to enjoy a very restful night’s sleep.

Rayne walked slowly up the steps of the Beira yacht club. It was five minutes to ten. At breakfast this morning Fernandes had gleefully passed on General Vorotnikov’s request for a meeting and now, with sweating palms, he was keeping the appointment. He’d decided to come without Guy, and had dressed for the occasion. He wore a navy blue double-breasted blazer and immaculately pressed khaki pants. Around his neck was a cravat, and his hair was slicked back. He was going to act hard, like the man on whom his cover had been based.

The General was waiting for him at a table close to the edge of the balcony. Behind him, the Indian Ocean stretched to infinity. Pink clouds lay flat across the water, almost obscuring the horizon. Next to the General sat a giant of a man with long, curling black hair and dark Levantine looks. Rayne had never seen a face that reflected such a concentrated expression of power. The man brought a chill to his body.

He could tell the man was already judging him, carefully sizing him up before the first verbal contact. The man’s hands lay calmly on the table, massive wrists covered in a mat of black hair that disappeared into the chalk-white cuffs of an immaculately tailored shirt. The suit was dark blue, of striking double-breasted cut. Wealth and power, that was the overall impression.

‘
Good morning, Mr Brand.’

Rayne was wary of the General, especially in combination with

this other man. ‘General Vorotnikov, it is a pleasure to meet with you.’

‘
Let me introduce you to my friend and colleague, Bernard Aschaar.’

So this was the man the bank manager had mentioned. One of the most powerful of the Johannesburg mining magnates and an international businessman. What was he doing here? Their eyes locked as they shook hands, two men of similar determination.

‘
Mr Brand, I spoke to Major Sverdelov very late yesterday evening. He is a friend of yours, I believe?’

So he was right, there had been nothing casual about the dinner. It had been a subtle form of interrogation which they had either passed or failed, depending on the purpose of this morning’s meeting.

‘
I am sorry, General, I only know two Russians in Beira, one called Carl and the other called Ivan.’

‘
Ah, it is Carl Sverdelov I am referring to. Our senior officers do not openly boast of their rank, it would be a security risk. Well, we meet on common ground.’

‘
I’m afraid I don’t understand you.’

‘
You are a gun-runner, Mr Brand, and I am a soldier. At this very moment your expertise can solve a problem for me.’

‘
I’m sure that the Russian army has plenty of its own guns.’

‘
Mr Brand, I am not trying to trap you. I will be direct. Mr Aschaar is a businessman, he will negotiate for me. I need four thousand assault rifles in ten days’ time.’

‘
Make?’

‘
AK-47.’

‘
Calibre?’

‘
The 7.62mm cartridge, we are not using the AKS-74 in Africa.’

‘
You want four thousand - that’s a big order.’

There was no way he could obtain so many weapons so fast. He would have to stall as much as possible. He thought quickly.

‘
Considering the size of the consignment, a basic fee of five hundred dollars per rifle would be the price. Then I would require a deposit - two million dollars immediately. There might also be transportation charges running to another half a million. The time factor is everything, the weapons would have to be flown in.’

The terms had to be hard, it was his only chance. He was fast getting himself into a very dangerous situation.

‘
We would give you half a million up front, that’s all.’

‘
I have not yet agreed to supply the arms, Mr Aschaar, do not start defining the terms. Do you have any idea how difficult it is

to obtain such weapons? I could only deal with you on the basis of a hundred per cent payment up front. I’m sure that as a businessman you must understand my position.’

‘
Ridiculous!’ Aschaar sneered, one eyebrow raised. ‘You’ll take the money and disappear.’

‘
I think that our conversation is at an end.’ Rayne got up from the table and began to walk away. He wondered if he’d overplayed his hand. He had half crossed the balcony when he heard Aschaar’s voice, as he had expected.

‘
All right, Mr Brand, I accept your terms. But I need some sort of guarantee.’

Rayne returned to the table and sat down again. Now Aschaar was far more amicable. ‘Mr Brand, I apologise. I should have asked you if you would like a drink?’

‘
Coffee.’

Aschaar gestured to a waiter while the General made polite conversation.

‘
You like Beira, Mr Brand?’

‘
No. It is a place for business, not for pleasure.’

Rayne saw the furrow on the General’s brow deepen. He said, ‘I have a grudging acceptance of the way things operate on this continent, but you must admit this is a desperate place.’

‘
We have not had an easy time here, Mr Brand. We have given much and received little in return.’

You have given nothing and taken everything, ayne thought. ‘An unrewarding business, General. I like to see results for hard work.’

‘
In politics the immediate rewards may not seem attractive, but the long-term gains more than make up.’

Rayne felt it was time to cut the chat and get down to business in earnest. The less time he spent in the company of these men, the better.

‘
I have a proposal, Mr Aschaar. If you have the money here in Beira, then payment can be a relatively simple affair - Mr Singh the banker and I discussed such an arrangement only yesterday. What I suggest is this: you pay the two million dollars into my account, and Mr Singh will only transfer it to an account I have nominated in another country once he is certain the shipment has arrived. If I fail to perform, you get the money and the interest back.’

‘
And what if you and Mr Singh have concluded a little deal on the side?’

‘
Knowing your power and influence, Mr Aschaar, I hardly think that Mr Singh would like to cross you - or the Soviet Union. One must always choose one’s adversaries with care.’