"You are very generous." Sean was ironic.
"Wait until you hear my full terms. You might think I drive a hard bargain." General China turned to the lieutenant who came through the doorway in response to his summons and said in Shangane, "Take this man to visit the two Matabele prisoners," he ordered. "You may allow them to talk for"-again he glanced at his wristwatch-"ten minutes. Then bring him back here."
There were three men in the escort that marched Sean down the underground passages and out into the dazzling sunshine.
The prison barracks consisted of a single hut of mud daub and thatch surrounded by a stockade of poles and barbed wire, the whole covered by a spread of camouflage net. A warder unlocked the gate to the stockade, and Sean went in. He walked to the door of the hut.
Over an open fireplace in the center of the floor stood a black three-legged pot. Two thin mattresses of split reeds on each side of it were the only other furnishings. Dedan was asleep on one mattress, while on the other Job sat cross-legged and stared into the smoldering coals.
"I see you, old friend," Sean said softly in Sindebele.
Job came slowly to his feet and just as slowly began to smile. "I see you also," he said, and then they laughed and embraced, clapping each other on the back. Dedan jumped up from the other mattress, grin rung with delight, and seized Sean's hand, pumping it brutally.
"What took you so long, Sean?" Job asked. "Did you find Tukutela? Where is the American? How did they catch you?"
"I'll tell you all that later," Sean cut him off. "There are more important things now. Have you spoken to China, did you recognize him as the one we caught at Inhlozane?"
"Yes, the one with the ear. What are our chances with him, Sean?"
"Too early to be sure," Sean warned. "But he is talking about some sort of deal."
"What?" Job broke off, and they both spun to face the door of the hut. Outside there was an abrupt shrilling of alarm whistles and wild shouts.
4What s going on?" Sean demanded, and strode to the doorway.
The gate to the stockade was still wide open, but the guards were scattering, unslinging their weapons and peering up at the sky. The lieutenant was blowing shrill hysterical blasts on his whistle as he ran.
"Air raid," said Job at Sean's shoulder. "Frelimo gunships.
There was one two days ago."
Sean heard the engines now, very faint and distant, and the whistling whine of the rotors, growing swiftly shriller and more penetrating.
"Job!" Sean grabbed his arm. "Do you know where they are holding Claudia?"
"Over there." Job pointed through the doorway. "A stockade like this one."
"How far?"
"Five hundred meters. "The gates are open, and the guards are gone.
We are going to make a bolt for it."
"We are in the middle of an army. And what about the gunships?" Job protested. "Where can we go?"
"Don't argue, let's go."
Sean raced through the doorway and out of the stockade gates.
Job and Dedan were close behind him.
Which way?" Sean grunted.
"Over there, beyond that clump of trees."
The three of them ran in a bunch. The camp was almost deserted as Renamo took to their dugouts and bunkers, but Sean saw that there were crews manning the light antiaircraft guns in the fixed emplacements, and they passed a small detachment armed with the portable RPG rocket launchers heading for the nearest kopJe.
Elevation would give them a good field of fire from which to launch. However, the RPG was not an infrared seeker and had very limited surface-to-air capability.
The Renamo were so preoccupied that not one of them even glanced at Sean's white face as they scurried to take up their positions. Now the whistle of approaching rotors was punctuated by the crackle and rap of ground fire.
Sean did not even look around. Ahead he saw the glint of barbed wire. The women's stockade was also well camouflaged under brush and netting, and it too seemed deserted by the female wardens.
"Claudia!" he shouted as he came up to the fence and gripped the wire.
"Where are you?"
"Here, Sean, here!" she yelled back. There were two buts inside the stockade wire. The doors were locked and there were no windows. Claudia's voice came from the nearest building, almost drowned out by the thunder of engines, the shriek of rotors, and the roar of ground fire.
"Give me a boost, "jean ordered, and backed away from the wire. The fence was seven feet high, he judged. Job and Dedan ran forward and crouched below it. Sean sprinted straight at them and, as he leaped up, he drove his feet into the cupped hands they had formed for him with interlocking fingers. In unison they bobbed up and flung their arms high, flipping Sean forward and over. He cleared the wire easily, somersaulted in the air, and landed on his feet. He cushioned the shock, tumbling like a paratrooper, and rolled smoothly back onto his feet, using his momentum to hurl himself forward.
"Clear the door!" he yelled at Claudia as he built up speed and crashed into the crude hand-hewn panel. It was too solid and heavy to shatter under the drive of his shoulder, but the hinges ripped clean out of the daubed wall and crashed inward in a cloud of dust and flying fragments of dried mud.