‘Not everyone shares your fear of heights, Comrade Doctor. I must find her because alone in this country she will end up dead rather than free.’
‘I see you have acquired a canine friend, General.’
The doctor leaned down and scratched the dog behind the ears, a gesture which the scrawny animal much appreciated.
‘Incredible, is it not, General? The animal is covered with ticks. How it does not die is a miracle. Yet it will probably live till the day it can no longer find any food. He likes you, you should keep him for good luck.’
‘You never cease to amaze me, Doctor. That is why I cannot dislike you.’ He pushed the animal away - and in terror Sam watched as it trotted back to the bush where she was hiding. It started to sniff noisily as it got closer to her. It lifted its rear leg up and made its mark on its new-found territory. A voice sounded again, closer to the bush.
‘The dog senses your attitude, General. He is now searching for a new friend.’
The dog was looking straight at Sam, flicking up the earth with its back paws and whining noisily.
‘You are right. Animals cannot lie. They are doomed to complete honesty of feeling.’ The General walked up to the bush.
‘You can come out now, Miss Elliot, the game is up.’
Frantically Sam tried to push her way out, but he was too quick for her and tripped her up. She felt his vice-like grip on her arm as he helped her up. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
‘Please don’t aggravate the situation, my dear. You’ve been caught. There’s nowhere for you to run to, so don’t bother.’ He handed her carefully to Suvorov. ‘Take her back to the hospital, Doctor. This time put her somewhere she cannot escape from. Put a permanent guard on the door and tell him he will die should she get away.’
‘Yes, Comrade General.’
Vorotnikov bent down and picked up the little mongrel. ‘I shall keep the dog, Doctor. Make of that what you will.’
The General stood outside the gates of the hospital, scratching the dog’s ears. The dog now accepted his new owner with the conviction that made his species man’s most enduring and popular companion.
The General was smiling to himself. The luck that had played such an important role in his career so far had not deserted him. The woman was strong, she had courage and determination. These were qualities he could exploit to the advantage of the Soviet Union.
He must think of a name for this dog, a creature of no pedigree and a dubious background at best. The name came to him in a flash of inspiration that satisfied his own mischievous sense of humour. He would call him Rhodes. If his comrades ever asked him what the name meant, he would merely say that the dog had already been named when it was given to him.
He laughed aloud in the darkness, for he knew that before long his dog would be the only thing left in Africa that bore the name of the great British imperialist.
The Land Rover headed north towards the outskirts of Beira. In the darkness a constant procession of vehicles travelled along the road, moving to and from the Russian barracks that lay between the main road and the sea far to the right.
The sea air imparted a freshness to the air that Tongogara always found invigorating, especially after being inland for such a long time. But he wished he hadn’t involved Mnangagwa in this crazy scheme of his. It had seemed so simple at the outset, but now he was less sure. He had gone to see Sam at the hospital the day before; when he found that she’d been taken away, he’d made a few enquiries and learned that she had tried to escape and that the General had had her moved to the barracks. Now he and Mnangagwa were going there.
‘Next turn to the right.’ Mnangagwa obeyed Tongogara’s instruction and turned towards the blaze of floodlights that illuminated the Russian barracks. Tongogara felt his heart beat faster. He scrutinized Mnangagwa’s neatly starched dress-uniform and beret, then his own. They certainly looked the part - now it was a question of some good acting.
They pulled up in front of the boom with sentry-boxes on either side. This was the first test of their nerve, thought Tongogara. A Russian officer strode up to the Land Rover and looked cursorily inside.
‘What do you want?’
‘I have come to take away the new prisoner. Direct orders from General Vorotnikov,’ Tongogara lied.
‘I have heard of no such orders.’ The officer peered into the cab, and saw Tongogara’s insignia glinting in the darkness.
‘Call the General if you want to,’ Tongogara said nonchalantly. ‘I’m sure he’ll welcome being disturbed at this late hour.’
The officer pulled away from the cab and gestured angrily at the guard to lift the boom. ‘Let them through!’
Mnangagwa smiled grimly as he drew up in front of the main building. The guards outside jumped stiffly to attention as Tongogara leapt out. ‘At ease. Take me to the new prisoner immediately,’ he barked, then looked back at Mnangagwa. They had agreed that Mnangagwa would stay in the Land Rover while he fetched Sam. If anything went wrong it would give him more chance of making a getaway - though the chances of escape, if anyone really suspected what they were up to, were virtually non-existent.
Tongogara followed one of the Russian soldiers up two flights of stairs. The soldier stopped outside a door, which he unlocked. ‘She’s inside with the doctor, sir. I’ll wait for you out here.’ Tongogara’s heart skipped a beat. He had not reckoned on the doctor’s being with Sam. Suvorov would immediately know that the General would never have ordered Sam’s removal.
Tongogara looked the Russian soldier directly in the eye. ‘I’ll be a few minutes. We are not to be disturbed.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The man stood to attention, and Tongogara opened the door.
He found himself facing the barrel of an automatic pistol.
‘Comrade Tongogara, how nice to see you. Please sit down.’ Dr Suvorov gestured towards an upright chair in the middle of the room. ‘Yes, you thought I was a fool, you and your half- brother Mnangagwa. The General told me you were at the hospital looking for Miss Elliot this morning. I’ve been expecting you.’
Sam looked on desperately from her bed. She realised the risks Tongogara must have taken to get into the barracks; he had jeopardised his career and position for her. And now he was cornered. She stared at Dr Suvorov, sitting at the end of her bed. He had his back to her ... In an instant she realised she had to act. She leapt forward and dug her nails into the doctor’s eyes. ‘Ahhhh!’
Suvorov screamed out in agony and dropped the gun. Tongogara snatched it up, then clipped the doctor across the ear as he fought back against Sam. The doctor staggered back, blood dripping from his face. ‘You bitch!’
Tongogara kicked the doctor’s legs from under him and Suvorov toppled to the floor. He looked up at the gun in Tongogara’s hand. ‘You’ll never get away with this. You’re finished. You’re a traitor.’
‘Shut up. Where are Miss Elliot’s clothes?’
Suvorov gestured to a cabinet in the comer. ‘Fetch them here, Doctor, and don’t try anything stupid.’
Sam dressed quickly while Tongogara spoke to Suvorov. ‘You’re coming with us. One whimper from you as we walk out of here, and I’ll shoot you in the back of the spine.’
‘You wouldn’t dare. You’d be killed.’
‘And so would you.’
Four minutes later the guard in the passage jumped to attention as Tongogara filed out of the room with Dr Suvorov and his patient. He watched the three of them walk down the stairs and wondered how the doctor could have scratched his face so badly.
Once they were outside the main building, Tongogara hustled Dr Suvorov into the front seat of the Land Rover, then helped Sam into the back. ‘Now let’s drive away slowly,’ he whispered to Mnangagwa as he pressed the barrel of his pistol into Dr Suvorov’s neck.
They passed the main guard post and Mnangagwa let out a sigh of relief. Dr Suvorov stared at him menacingly.
‘Neither of you will get away with this. General Vo
rotnikov is not a fool. He knows you’re both anti-Russian - there will be no place for either of you in the new government.’
Tongogara said nothing, but Suvorov’s words served to reinforce suspicions that had been growing in him for some time. The Russians were not genuinely interested in helping the black resistance to overthrow the white government in Zimbabwe; Vorotnikov intended to use the new black leaders as his puppets; he and the Russians intended to control Zimbabwe themselves.
Mnangagwa stopped some ten kilometres north of the barracks. The noise of the engine died, and was followed by a cold, disconcerting silence which no one wanted to break. The sound of the insects became louder outside, as if challenging them to take action. Tongogara lit a cigarette, then got down from the vehicle and walked round to the passenger door. He gestured for Dr Suvorov to get out.
In the darkness he led the doctor to a tree, and took a rope out of his pocket.
‘Thank you, Doctor Suvorov. Now I think it is time for us to leave you.’
‘You won’t get away with this, Tongogara.’
‘I already have, Doctor Suvorov, I already have. Now enjoy your evening. Someone will pass by in the morning and untie you. This is a busy road.’
Tongogara walked back to the Land Rover and got into the back seat next to Sam. He thought she looked even more beautiful in the moonlight. She smiled up at him as he came closer.
‘You know you’re mad, Tongogara. You can’t get away with this - Suvorov and the guard both saw you. Still, I’m very grateful. I don’t know what they intended to do with me.’
‘I did what I believed to be necessary. It won’t take them long to figure out I was involved, so there was no point in killing Suvorov.’
‘They’ll kill you, Tongogara.’
‘I have achieved my objective, you are free. From here on it is a question of survival.’
The lioness moved silently through the undergrowth, her eyes focused on the man next to the tree. She wondered why he did not move at all. Hunger raged in her stomach; hunting had been difficult for her over the past few months because of all the military activity in the area. There was no small game, and the smell of man had become an increasing fascination for her.
Usually the men were dangerous. The strange sticks they carried made loud noises, and once there had been a searing pain in her left paw, and sometimes it still hurt her so that she limped. She had stayed away from men for a time after that, but now the temptation had returned. This man carried no stick. She moved in closer, so that his smell made her salivate.
Dr Suvorov could have sworn he had heard a noise. It was like a faint breathing sound, not far from where he was sitting. He had been dozing, but now he was wide awake, his eyes peering into the darkness.
Then the lioness came out of the trees and stood at a distance, coolly sizing him up. Suvorov wanted to scream out, but he thought that might make her attack. The beast moved closer, a deep growl rising from the depths of her stomach - a growl that almost caused his heart to stop beating.
Frantically Suvorov tried to think of some way to scare her off. He managed to draw his knees up to his chest and then raise himself to a standing position - and the animal backed away. He realised that the rope that bound his wrists was not tied very tightly, and he pulled against the knot with the desperate strength of a man trying to escape as he is dragged towards the gallows. Gradually he felt the knot coming looser.
The lioness took another step towards him, and he swore at her. Again she retreated, but she continued to stare at him. Now his hands were almost free, and he felt the tension mounting, for now at least he had a chance. He had to climb high in the tree where she wouldn’t be able to get at him. He began to edge his way round the tree trunk, never taking his eyes off his adversary and shouting at her again. She watched him, growling softly and revealing her enormous teeth.
The tree trunk was almost featureless except for a branch growing out just above his head. If he could pull up on this . . . His hands now completely free, he leapt for the branch above him. He caught it first time and pulled himself up. He began to breathe more easily. She would never be able to get him in the tree.
He was almost on top of the branch when the lioness roared. Then she bounded forward, her whole body a mass of rippling muscle.
A giant paw latched onto his leg, almost tearing it off as he clung desperately to the branch. Now he was screaming uncontrollably. His hands gripped the branch, but he was powerless against her strength. He could smell her fetid breath, the stench of death, as he was torn from the tree, still conscious, the blood pouring from the tom artery in his leg.
When Sam woke she had no idea of where she was, and was amazed to see the folds of the dark green tent flapping above her in the wind. She felt hot and uncomfortable. She pulled herself out of the sticky nylon sleeping-bag and edged towards the closed door-flaps on her hands and knees. Undoing one of the knots, she slid out into the open and immediately began to feel much better.
The sun had not yet risen, but she could see clearly in the reddish light of the early dawn. Behind her was a giant range of cliffs, towering up into the clouds. Below the cliffs a long scree slope ended in thick bush, which then petered out some distance behind her tent. To her right a guard sat hunched over the dying embers of a fire. He was snoring noisily, oblivious to the outside world and anyone who might attack the little bush camp. In the distance she could see other tents, but most of the people in the camp seemed to be sleeping outside on ground-sheets.
Just as she was thinking she could walk away undetected, she noticed that the guard at the fire had woken up and was watching her warily. The gun cradled in his arms took on a forbidding aspect. She pulled over an empty billy-can that was lying nearby and filled it with water from the bottle next to the tent. Then she put the billy on the fire and watched for the tiny bubbles that would rise to the top as it began to boil.
‘You know, Miss Elliot, you are a very beautiful woman.’
She jumped with fright as she heard the deep voice behind her. She wheeled round to see Tongogara staring at her from his sleeping place, his body propped up on his right elbow. He was naked from the waist up, and his ebony skin was latticed with cords of muscle. The strong face was lit with a radiant smile.
‘Thank you, Tongogara. This is a very beautiful place. But I don’t understand why there are so many Russians here. I thought your backing came from the Chinese?’
Tongogara laughed. ‘This is the thinking of the Smith regime. The two-pronged attack, Chinese to the right, Russians to the left. Unfortunately the reality is a little different - we take our support wherever we can find it. Our aim is simple: to overthrow the Smith regime, not to accept some phoney government imposed on us by British and American politicians. Our people long for freedom.’
Sam stared across at him, deadly serious. ‘And the poverty, the hunger and the death? These are real enough. Will they go away with “freedom”?’
His face hardened. Now he looked much older. ‘We have to accept suffering. We have lived with it since the white man and his strange god came to our shores. We are the ones who cannot afford to forget. We will never be repaid for our suffering. Thousands of us have had to die in order that we may win this struggle. We could win by sheer numbers alone, there are enough of us for that.’
She eased the billy of now boiling water off the fire and looked up into Tongogara’s eyes. ‘Your generation will not gain much from that victory, Tongogara.’
He picked up some sand from the ground next to the fire and crumbled it between his fingers. ‘Our children will grow up in a land that is their own, a society in which black consciousness has a pride in itself. Already the younger cadres argue that men such as myself are too moderate, that our energy has been sapped by the West. I cannot argue with them, they are my own flesh and blood.’
Sam watched as the cliffs behind them became a deep red in the first morning sunlight. Red, the colour of Africa. Tongogara held her spellbound.<
br />
‘Who gives a damn whether it’s the Russians or the Chinese who are behind us? That disguises the real issue. I have faith in your intelligence, Miss Elliot, which is why I am going to make sure you get out of Mozambique alive. Perhaps you can tell the world of the real issue here in Africa. We have almost won the battle for Zimbabwe, but the wider struggle has only just begun. The country to the south, the country of the Afrikaner tribe, is our biggest enemy. Those people will take a very long time to defeat.’
The sunlight fell across Tongogara’s face, throwing his profile into dramatic relief. She knew what he said was true, especially about the suffering of his people. With his intelligence and integrity he would make a good ruler.
‘Do you have any children, Tongogara?’
His face lit up at the question. ‘I have five sons, a tribute to my wife. They are all strong men who will become leaders.’
‘And your wife?’
A cloud passed across his face, robbing it of its life and passion. ‘Do not talk of my wife, Miss Elliot.’
But Sam wanted to know, her reporter’s instinct demanded that she know. ‘No. You want me to tell the story of your people? Then you must explain it to me through your own history.’
He sat down cross-legged in front of the fire and gestured for her to do the same. For some time he stared at the burning embers, as if trying to find some essential message in the slow destruction that was the heart of the fire. She handed him a cup of black coffee and he sipped at it meditatively.
‘My children are men now. My wife had the first when she was seventeen and the last when she was twenty-six. They all live in Soweto, the scar on the earth that lies south-west of Johannesburg. Egoli, the city of gold. I went there when I was young, I left Umtali and poverty to seek my fortune in the gold mines. I made money, I found a wife and I learned to hate the white man. Now my children live for the Revolution. I would like them to leave Soweto and join me in the new Zimbabwe, but they will not.’
Hyena Dawn Page 12
