She rasped her fingernails through his short crisp beard and her face into the springing curls that covered his chest.
pressed "You're as hairy and hard as a wild animal," she whispered. "And as dangerous. I should be terrified of you."
I "Aren't you? "A little, yes. That's what makes it such fun."
She was starved to the point where her ribs showed clearly through her pale skin. Her limbs were slender and childlike, and the marks of her suffering upon them threatened to break his heart.
Even her breasts seemed smaller, but it was as though their diminution had merely emphasized the sweet and tender shape. She watched him take the nipple of one between his bps, and she stroked the thick curls at the back of his neck.
"That feels so good," she whispered. "But there are two." And she took a handful of his hair to direct his mouth across to the other side.
Once while she sat astride him, he looked up at her, reached high to stroke the soft skin of her throat and shoulders, and said, "In this light, you look like a little girl."
"And me trying so hard to prove to you what a big girl I am," she pouted down at him, then leaned forward to kiss his mouth.
They slept so intricately entwined that their hearts beat against each other and their breath mingled and they woke to find that they had begun again while they still slept.
"He's so clever," she murmured drowsily. "Already he can find his way all on his own."
"Do you want to go back to sleep?"
"Do I, hell!"
Much later she asked him, "Do you think we could make this last forever?"
"We can try."
But at last the dawn sent orange-gold fingers of light through the slats above them, and Claudia cried softly. "No. I don't want it to end. I want to keep you inside me for ever and ever."
When Joyful brought their tea to their bedside, on the tray with the mugs was an invitation from General China to dine in the mess that evening.
For Claudia and Sean General China's mess night was less than an unqualified success, despite the general's continued efforts to charm them.
The buffalo meat he served was tough and rank, and the beer made the officers of the general's staff loud and argumentative.
The weather had changed and was close and sweltering even after dark, and the bunker the4t served as a mess was thick with the smoke of cheap native tobacco and the odor of masculine sweat.
General China drank none of the beer. He sat at the head of the table, ignoring the shouted conversation and hearty eating habits of his staff. Instead he played the gallant to Claudia, engaging her in a discussion that at first she attempted to evade.
Claudia was unaccustomed to the table manners of Africa. She watched with an awful fascination as the stiff maize porridge was scooped from the communal pot in the center of the table by many hands, molded into balls between the fingers and then dipped into buffalo-meat gravy. Greasy gravy ran down the diners" chins, and no attempt was made to moderate the conversation during mastication, so that small particles of food were sprayed across the table when one of them laughed or exclaimed loudly.
Despite the fact that she was still half starved, Claudia had no appetite for the meal, and it took an effort to concentrate on General China's dissertation.
"We have divided the entire country into three war zones," he explained. "General Takawira Dos Alves is the commander of the north. He commands the provinces of Niassa and Cabo Delgado.
In the south the commander is General Tippoo Tip, and of course I command the army of the central provinces of Monica and Sofala. Between us we control almost fifty percent of the total ground area of Mozambique, and another forty percent of the country is a destruction zone over which we are forced to maintain a scorched-earth policy to prevent Frelinio growing either food for their troops or cash crops to finance their war effort against us."
"So the reports of atrocities we have received in the United States are true then." He had engaged Claudia's interest at last.
Her tone was sharp as she accused, "Your troops are attacking and wiping out the civilian population in those destruction zones."
"No, Miss Monterro." China's smile was icy. "The fact that we have moved the civilian population out of many of those destruction areas is unavoidably true, but all the atrocities, all the massacres and tortures, have been committed by Frelimo themselves."
"They are the government of Mozambique. Why would they massacre their own people?" Claudia protested.
"I agree with you, Miss Monteffo, sometimes it is difficult to follow the devious workings of the Marxist mind. The reality is that Frelimo is unable to govern. They are unable to provide even basic protection to the civilian population outside the cities, let alone give them services of health and education and transport and communications. To draw world attention away. from the total failure of their economic policies and their lack of popular support, they have provided the international media with a Roman holiday of slaughter and torture which they blame upon Renanio and South Africa. It is easier to kill people than to feed and educate them, and the anti-Renamo propaganda is worth a million lives to a Marxist, that is."
"You're suggesting that a Khmer Rouge-style massacre is being conducted here in Mozambique by the government forces?"
Claudia was aghast, pale and perspiring with the noise and rug of the subterranean mess and with the horror of General China's explanations.
"I am not suggesting, Miss Monterro. I am simply stating the literal truth."
"But-but-surely the world must do something?"
"The world is uncaring, Miss Monterro. It has been left for us, Renamo, to try to bring down the heinous Marxist regime."
"Frehmo is the elected government," Claudia pointed out.
General China shook his head. "No, Miss Monterro, very few governments in Africa are elected. There has never been an election in Mozambique or Angola or Tanzania or any of the other gem s of African socialism. In Africa the trick is to seize power and hang on to it at all costs. The typical African government plunges into the void left by the exodus of the colonial power and entrenches itself behind a barricade of AK-47 assault rifles. It then declares a one-party system of government which further precludes any form of opposition and it nominates a presidential dictator for-life."
"Tell me, General China." Claudia raised her voice above the roar of conversation further down the mess table. "If one day your military efforts succeed and you and the other generals of Renaino vanquish Frelinio and become the new government of this country, will you then allow free elections and a truly democratic system to evolve?"
For a moment General China stared at her in astonishment and then he laughed delightedly. "My very dear Miss Monterro, your childlike belief in the myth of the essential goodness of mankind is really rather touching. I certainly have not fought so hard and so long to gain power simply to hand it over to a bunch of illiterate peasants. No, Miss Monteffo, once we have the power it will remain safely in the right hands." He extended his own elegantly shaped hands, pink palms uppermost, toward her. "These," he said.
"So you're every bit as bad as you say the others are." There were hot red spots of anger on Claudia's cheeks. This was the man who had put chains on her wrists and incarcerated her in that vile pit. She hated him wit INI her strength.
"I think you are attually beginning to understand at last, even through the haze "of your liberal emotions. In Africa there are no good guys and no bad guys, there are simply winners and losers."
He smiled again. "And I assure you, Miss Monterro, that I intend to be one of the winners."
General China turned away from her as one of his signals officers ducked through the low entrance to the bunker and hurried down to the head of the table. With an apologetic salute, he handed the general a yellow message flimsy. China read it without a change of expression and then looked up at his guests.
"Please excuse me for a few minutes." China placed his beret at the correct angle over one eye
, then stood and followed the signaler out of the bunker.
The moment he was gone, Claudia leaned across the table to Sean. "Can't we get out of here now I don't think I can bear another moment of it. God, how I hate that man."
"Mess tradition doesn't seem very strict," Sean murmured. "If we leave, I don't think anyone is going to take offense."
As they crossed to the doorway, there was a drunken chorus of suggestive catcalls and whistles, and they went up the steps with relief.
The night air had cooled, and Claudia breathed it in deeply and gratefully. "I don't know which was more suffocating, the smell or the dialectic." She breathed again. "I never expected Africa to be like this. It,s so confused, so illogical, it turns everything I know to be true upside down."
"But it's interesting, isn't it?" Sean asked.
"Like a nightmare is interesting. Let's go to bed. At least that's something I can believe in completely."
They turned toward their dugout shelter, but General China's voice halted them. "You aren't leaving us so soon?" His tall, lithe form came striding toward them out of the darkness. "I'm afraid I have disappointing news for both of you."
I our deal," Sean "You aren't letting us go. You are reneging On said flatly. "I knew this was coming!1 red him
"Circumstances beyond my control," China assu smoothly. "I have just had a radio report from Sergeant Alphonso.
As you know, I was expecting his return this evening, and he and his men would have escorted you and Miss Monterro safely back to the border. However-" angrily.
"All right, let's hear it from you, China," Sean snarled "What new scheme have you cooked up?"
General China ignored the accusation and the tone in which it "Sergeant Alphonso reports that there is a massive was delivered.
it seems that emboldbuildup of enemy to the west of our lines.
ened by their gunships, Frelimo, backed by Zimbabwean continJ gents, is about to launch a full-scale offensive. We are probably already cut off from the Zimbabwean border. The territory we once controlled seems certain to have been overrun by the enemy advance. Within hours it will become a battlefield-even now Sergeant Alphonso is fighting his way through and has taken some casualties. I am afraid you would not last long out there, Colonel.
It would be suicide for you to try to reach the border now. You must remain under my personal protection."
"What the hell do you want from us?" Sean demanded. "You are up to something, I can smell the stink of it from here. What is it?"
"Your lack of confidence in my motives is very distressing."
China smiled coldly. "However, the sooner the Hind gunships are destroyed, the sooner the Frelimo offensive will collapse and you and Miss Monterro will be returned to the civilized world."
"I'm listening," Sean told him.
"You are the only one, you and Captain Job, who understand the Stinger. In this our interests coincide. I want you to train a select contingent of my men to handle the Stingers."
"That's all you want?" Sean stared into his face. "We train your men to use the Stinger, then you let us go?"
"Exactly.
"How do I know you won't move the goalposts again?"
"You pain me, Colonel."
"Not nearly as much as I'd like to."
"It Is agreed, then. You will train my men, and in exchange I will have you escorted across the border at the very first opportunity."
"What option do we have?"
"I'm so pleased that you are being reasonable, Colonel. It makes life much easier for all of us." His voice became crisp and businesslike. "We must begin immediately."
"You'll have to let your staff sober up a little," Sean told him.
"I'll begin first thing tomorrow, and I'll train the Shanganes; under Alphonso and Ferdinand, if Alphonso makes it through the Frelimo offensive intact."
"How long will it take you?" China wanted to know. "From on every hour will be vital to our survival."
now "They are bright lads and willing. I should be able to do something with them in a week."
"You will not have that long."
"I'll have the Stinizers; in action just as soon as I possibly can," i Sean retorted irritablfy-"Please believe me, General, I don't want to hang around herea minute longer than I have to. Now we'll bid you goodnight." H& took Claudia's arm as he turned away.
"Oh, Sean," she whispered. "I have a terrible premonition that we are caught up in something from which we are never going to escape."
Sean squeezed her upper arm to make her stop. "Look up there," he ordered softly, and she raised her face.
"The stars?" she asked. "Is that what you want me to look at?"
"Yes, the stars." They daubed the night as though a gigantic firefly had been crushed to death and its luminous essence smeared across the vault of heaven.
"They calm the soul," Sean explained gently.
She breathed softly and deeply. "Yes, you're right, my darling.
Tonight we have our love. Let's exploit it to the full and let tomorrow take care of itself."
She felt safe and invulnerable under the tented mosquito netting.
The lumpy grass-filled mattress had taken on the shape of their bodies, and she did not notice the harsh touch of the canvas covering against her skin.
"If we made love ten thousand times, it still would not take the edge off my need for you," she whispered as she slipped over the edge of sleep.
She woke suddenly, feeling the tension in his body against hers.
Instantly he touched her lips to caution her to silence. She lay frozen in the darkness, not daring to move or breathe, and then she heard it: a soft scraping at the entrance of the dugout as the netting curtain was pushed aside and an animal passed through.
Her heart raced, and she bit her lip to stop herself gasping aloud as she heard the thing crossing the earth floor toward the bed. Its paws were almost soundless, just the faintest tick of grit compressed by the stealthy weight. Then she smelled it, the wild gamey smell of a meat-eating animal, and she wanted to cry out.
Beside her Sean moved suddenly. Fast as a striking adder, he lunged through the mosquito net. There was a quick scuffle and squeal, and she tried to crawl over Sean's back to escape w was.
it "Got you, you little bugger," Sean said grimly. "You don't sneak up on me twice and get away with it. Now tell me I'm getting old and I'll wring your neck!"
"You'll be young and beautiful forever, my Bwana," Matatu giggled, and wriggled like a puppy caught by the scruff of the neck.
"Where have you been, Matatu?" Sean demanded sternly.
"What took you so long? Did you meet a pretty girl along the wayT, Matatu giggled again. He loved to be accused by Sean of dalHance and amatory exploits. "I found the roosting place of the hen shaw he boasted. "The same way I find where the bees have their hive. I watched their flight against the sun and followed them to their secret place."
Sean drew him closer to the bed and shook his arm gently. "Tell me," he ordered. In the darkness Matatu squatted down, tucked his loincloth between his legs, and made little self-important throat-clearing and humming sounds.
"There is a round hill, shaped like the head of a bald man," he began. "On one side of the hill passes the insimbi, the railway, and on the other side the road."
Sean propped himself on one elbow to listen. With his other arm he encircled Claudia's naked waist and held her close. She snuggled against him, listening to Matatu's piping pixie voice in the darkness.
"There are many ask ari around the hill with big banduki hidden in holes in the ground." Sean formed a vivid mental picture of the heavily garrisoned hilltop as Matatu described it to him. Beyond the outer defensive lines the gunships were laagered in separate sandbagged emplacements. Like battle tanks in hull-down fortifications, they would be impregnable, yet they had only to rise and hover a few feet above ground level to bring into action their devastating Gatling cannons and rocket pods.
"Inside the circle of roostin
g hen shaw there are many gharries parked and white men in green clothes who climb on the hen shaw and look inside them all the time." Matatu described the mobile workshops and fuel tankers and the squads of Russian mechanics and technicians needed to keep the helicopters flying. The training manuals had pointed up the Hind's excessive requirements of service and maintenance, and those big Isotov turbo engines would guzzle avgas.
"Matatu, did you see railway gharries on the line near the hill?"
Wilbur Smith - C07 A Time To Die Page 44
