What do you want us to do? Shall we take a chance on the Hinds finding us?"
Sean looked up at the sky before he replied. The first lemon colored flush of dawnlyas paling out the stars.
, "The forest roof isn't dense enough to hide so many men and so much equipment, "he decided. "We have to keep going and get them into hiding" Tell Matatu to quicken the pace."
"What about the Hinds?"
"The main fighting is well behind us now, that is where they will be headed. We have to take the chance but move fast."
As the light strengthened, the faces of the men in the long column turned more frequently and fretfully to the sky. The pace was fast, almost a run. Although they had been going all night, the Shanganes bore their heavy burdens with all the hardiness and fortitude of the African, burdens that would have broken the heart and back of even a strong white man.
it was light enough to define the treetops against the orange blossom of dawn when Sean heard the dread whistle of turbos, faint and distant, passing to the east. The Hinds were flying their fast sortie of the day, and the alarm was shouted down the length of the column. The porters dived off the path, seeking the nearest cover, and the section leaders crouched ready to wave the captured Frehmo colors Sean had provided for each of them should the Hinds spot them and come in to strafe them.
The deception was not necessary, for the pair of Hinds passed two miles east of their position. Sean saw their silhouettes, like deformed pats, black against the oncoming dawn, and minutes later heard the thunder of their Gatling cannons and the boom of their assault rockets as they pounded another Renamo stronghold among the ironstone hills far behind them.
Sean got the column moving again, and the glimpse they had been given of the "flying death" sped their feet. An hour later, the tail end of the column clambered swiftly down the almost sheer side of the gorge at the bottom of which lay the dry river-bed and the caves where the captured Unimogs had been hidden.
It was almost a homecoming, and the men crept thankfully into the gloom of the caverns and laid down the heavy packs.
"No fires," Sean ordered. "No smoking."
They ate their rations of cold stodgy maize cakes and dried fish and then curled on the cavern floor and slept like a pack of hounds exhausted at the end of a day's hunting.
Sean found a private place for Claudia at the back of the cavern, behind a natural screen of tumbled sandstone blocks. He spread a blanket on the rocky floor, and she sat cross-legged upon it and munched the unappetizing rations. But before she had half finished, she slumped sideways, asleep before her head touched the floor. Sean spread the other blanket over her, for it was chilly in the depths of the cavern, and then went back to the entrance.
Alphonso had rigged the antenna of the small portable two-way VHF radio. He was crouched beside the set with the volume turned com low listening to the situation reports of the Renamo field manders as they reported in to General China's headquarters.
"It goes very badly," he told Sean glumly. "Frelimp will be on the riverbank by noon tomorrow, and unless the general pulls back he will be overrun." Alphonso broke off as he recognized their call sign in the jumbled static of the wave band.
"Banana Bush, this is Warthog," he replied into the hand Mike and then gave the "primary objective established" code: Coca Cola Sean smiled at this subtle commentary on modern Africa, and Banana Bush acknowledged and signed off. Their next report scheduled for dawn tomorrow, by which time the fate of the his.
mission would be decided one way or the other.
Sean left Alphonso rolling up the antenna and packing the radio into its carrying case and from the entrance of the cavern watched the party of five men who under Job's supervision were sweeping the sandy river-bed with thorn branches to obliterate the last traces of their passing.
Job climbed back to the mouth of the cave and Sean asked, "Sentries?"
"On each of the peaks." Job pointed to the heights above them.
"I have covered every approach."
"All right." Sean led him back into the cavern. "It's time to arm and program the Stingers."
It took almost a full hour to assemble the launchers, connect the battery packs, and feed the cassettes into the microcomputers in the consoles. Finally each of the launchers was fully armed and programmed for the "two-color" attack sequence on the Hind gunships, and they handed them back to the Shangane section leaders.
Sean glanced at his wristwatch, mildly surprised that it was still keeping time after all the abuse he had given it recently.
"We can grab a few hours" shut-eye," he told Job, but neither of them made a move to do so.
Instead, as if by consent, they moved back to the entrance of the cavern, away from the others, and leaned against the rock wall with their shoulders almost touching, staring thoughtfully out into the river-bed where the early sunlight was sparkling the crystalline sand like powder snow.
"If you had taken my advice, you could be living high in the fleshpots of Harare now," Sean murmured.
"And never have the chance to bag a Hind?" Job smiled carefully; his damaged lip was crusted with a fragile scab, and a drop of blood like a tiny ruby appeared as it split open again. He dabbed at it with the corner. of his bandanna as he went on, "We have hunted all the dangerous game together, Sean, in all the worst places. Buffalo in the jesse bush, elephant in the Kasagasaga. This will be another trophy, the best and biggest."
Sean turned to study his face. It was typical of their friendship that their feelings should be so perfectly in tune. During the long night march, Sean's fury and hatred of General China had abated and given way to this emotion Job had just articulated, the excitement of the hunter. They were both hunters; the chase was a fire and a passion in their blood that they had never attempted to suppress. They understood each other, recognized and accepted this bond between them that had grown stronger over the twenty years of their friendship. Yet, Sean realized, they had seldom spoken of their feelings for each other.
"Perhaps now is the time to do so," he thought, and said aloud, "We are more than brothers, you and me."
"Yes," Job replied simply. "We are beyond the love of brothers."
They were silent then, not embarrassed by what had passed between them, but rather fulfilled and fortified by it.
"As a brother," Sean broke the silence, "may I ask a favor of you?"
Job nodded, and Sean went on softly. "There will be hard fighting at the laager. I would not want Claudia to fall into the hands of Frelimo if I were not there to prevent it. That is the favor I ask."
A shadow passed behind Job's eyes. "I do not like to think about that possibility."
"If I am not there, will you do it for me?"
Job nodded. "I give you my word."
"If you have to do it, do not warn her, do not speak, do it unexpectedly. "She will not know it is coming," Job promised. "It will be quick.