As he crossed to her, Sean saw the marks on her wrists, livid weals crusted with fresh scab, and his anger matched his joy. He swept her into his arms, and she was as thin and frail as a child.
For a moment she stood quiescent in his embrace, then fiercely she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He was surprised by her strength, and she shivered in convulsive spasms as she pressed her face into the hollow of his neck.
They stood locked together, neither moving nor speaking for a long time, until Sean felt the wetness soaking through his shirt front.
"Please don't cry, my darling."
Gently he lifted her face between his hands and with his thumbs wiped the tears away.
"It Is just that I'm so happy now." She smiled through the last of her tears. "Nothing else matters anymore, now that you're back."
He took her hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the broken, scabbed skin on her wrists.
"They can't hurt me anymore, not now," she said. Sean turned his head and looked at the two uniformed war dresses who still sat on the bench. "Your mothers rutted with the stinking dung-eating hyena," he said softly in Shangane, and they flinched at the insult.
"Get out! Go! Before I ri out your ovaries and feed them to the p vultures!"
They glowered apd hung their heads until Sean dropped his hand onto the butfof his pistol. Then they moved with alacrity, jumping up from the bench and sidling to the dugout steps.
Sean turned back to Claudia and for the first time kissed her mouth. That kiss lasted a long time, and when they drew unwillingly apart Claudia whispered, "When they took off the handcuffs and let me wash, I knew you were coming back."
pict of the degradation and brutal Her words conjured up a ure ity she had come through, and Sean's reply was bitter.
"The bastard. Somehow I'm going to make him suffer for what he has done to you. I swear that to you."
"No, Scan. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. We're together again. That's all that matters."
They had only a few more minutes alone before General China came bustling into the radio dugout at the head of his staff, still smiling and elated. He ushered Sean and Claudia through into his private office and seemed not to notice that they both treated his affable hospitality with icy reserve. They sat close together in front of his desk, quietly holding hands, not responding to his pleasantries.
"I have prepared quarters for you," General China told them.
"In fact, I have evicted one of my senior commanders and given you his dugout. I hope you will find it adequate for your needs."
"We aren't planning on a long stay, General," Sean told him. "I want to be on my way back to the border with Miss Monterro tomorrow morning at the very latest."
"Ah, Colonel, of course I want to accommodate you. From now on, you are an honored and privileged guest. You have certainly earned your release. However, for operational reasons that happy moment must be delayed for a few days. Frelimo are moving in large concentrations of troops."
Reluctantly Sean conceded. "Fair enough. But in the meantime we expect five-star treatment. Miss Monterro needs new clothes to replace these rags."
"I shall have a selection of the best we have sent to your dugout from our stores. However, I cannot promise either Calvin Klein or Gucci."
"While we are at it, we'll need a team of servants to do our laundry and cleaning and cooking."
"I haven't forgotten your colonial origins, Colonel," China answered slyly. "One of my men was an under chef at the President Hotel in Johannesburg. He understands European tastes."
Sean stood up. "We'll inspect our quarters now."
"One of my junior officers will escort you," General China suggested. "If there is anything further you need, please let him know. He has my personal orders to give you whatever he can to make you comfortable. As I have said before, you are honored guests." "He gives me the creeps," Claudia whispered as the subaltern ushered them out of the dugout. "I don't know when he frighten more, when he's being charming or menacing."
M!" It won't be for much longer." Sean put his arm around her shoulders and led her into the open air, but somehow the sunlight lacked warmth and despite his assurances to Claudia, the chill of General China's presence persisted.
The dugout to which the subaltern led them was in the bush above the riverbank, not more than three hundred yards from the general's HQ.
The entrance was screened with a piece of tattered camouflage net and the interior was freshly dug out of the hard red clay of the riverbank.
"It's so new that it probably hasn't yet acquired a permanent population of bedbugs and lice and other wild game," Sean remarked.
The clay walls were damp and cool, and there was ventilation through the spaces between the roof poles. The only furnishings were a table and two stools of mo pane poles against one wall, and opposite that a raised bedstead, also of mo pane poles, and a mattress of combed elephant grass covered with a sheet of faded canvas. There was, however, one extraordinary luxury, a mosquito net hung above the bed.
The subaltern who was escorting them summoned the domestic staff, and the three of them lined up in front of Sean and Claudia.
The two camp boys would take care of their laundry and cleaning under the supervision of the chef.
The chef was an elderly Shangane with a pleasant lined face and silver-frosted hair and beard. He reminded Claudia of a black Santa Claus. They both liked him immediately.