Leopard Hunts in Darkness - Smith Wilbur (книга бесплатный формат .TXT) 📗
There were two men in the cab of the lead truck, One was a subaltern, Craig could make out his cap, badge and the glitter of his shoulder pips even through the dusty windscreen. He was grinning and his teeth were almost as bright as his badges. He spoke to the driver and, with a squeal of brakes, the lead truck pulled up on the threshold of the bridge. The second truck was forced to pull up behind it.
The young officeroo ned the door and stood on the Pc running board. The'troopers in the back of the truck and the heavy machinegunner craned forward, grinning and calling ribald comment. The girls, following Sarah's example, sank down coyly to cover their lower bodies and answered the suggestions and comments with dissembling coyness. Some of the troopers in the second truck, not to be out-done, jumped down and came forward to join the.
fun.
One of the older girls made a slyly obscene gesture ith w thumb and forefinger and there was an appreciative bellow of raunchy masculine laughter from the bank. The young officer replied with an even more specific gesture, and the rest of his troopers left the trucks and crowded up behind him. Only the two heavy machine gunners were still at their posts.
Craig darted a glance at the underside of the bridge. On their bellies the bowmen were wriggling up the far side of bank, keeping the timber baulks of the bridge between the them and the bunch of troopers.
In the river Sarah stood up. She had loosened the string of her apron, and now carried the minuscule garment in her hand, swinging it with artful provocation. She waded towards the men on the bank, with the water swirling around her thighs, and the laughter choked off as they stared at her. She walked slowly, the pull of water exaggerating the churning movement of her pelvis. She was sleek A and beautiful as a wet otter, the sunlight on her body gave it a plastic sheen, an unearthly glow, and even from where he lay, Craig could feel the jocular mood of the men watching her thicken with lust, and begin to steam with the stirring of sexual fury.
Sarah paused below them, cupped her hands under her breasts and lifted them, pointing her nipples up at them.
Now they were totally concentrated upon her, even the machine-gunners high up on the ring mounts of the trucks were rapt and enchanted.
Behind them the four bowmen had slid up under the lee of the causeway. They were not more than ten paces from the side of the leading truck as they came up onto their knees in unison and drew. The bows arched, their right hands came back to touch their lips, wet muscle bulged in their backs as they sighted along the shafts, and then one after the other they let their arrows fly.
There was no sound, not even the softest fluting, but the of the machine-gunners slid gently forward and hung Over the side of the cab with head and arms dangling. The other arched his back, his mouth wide open but no sound coming from it, and tried to reach back over his own shoulder to the shaft that stood stiffly out between his shoulder-blades. Another arrow hit him, a hand's breadth lower, and he convulsed in agony and dropped from view.
n-Le bowmen changed their target and the silent arrows flew into the bunch of troopers on the river-bank and a man screamed. In the same instant the guerrillas hiding below the bank burst from the water, and went up through the reeds, just as the troopers whirled to face the bowmen.
The naked guerrillas took them from behind, and this time Craig heard the explosive grunts as they swung the long, bladed pan gas likea tennis-player hitting a hard forehand volley. A pan ga blade cleaved through the subaltern's burgundy-red beret and split his skull to the chin.
Sarah whirled and raced back, gathering the other girls.
One of the younger ones was screaming as they floundered over the submerged sandbanks.
There was a single shot, and then all the troopers were down, scattered along the edge of the bank, but the guerrillas were still working over them, swinging and chopping and hacking.
"Sarah," Craig called to her as she reached the bank.
"Get the girls back into the bush! " She snatched up her shirt, and pushed her s4ters ahead of her, shepherding them away.
Carrying the AK, "Craig ran across the bridge. The guerrillas were already stripping and looting the dead men.
They worked with the dexterity of much practice, wrist, watches first and then the contents of pockets and webbing pouches.
"Was anyone hit?" Craig demanded. That single shot had worried him, but there were no casualties. Craig gave them two minutes to finish with the corpses, and then sent a patrol back to the crest to cover them against surprise.
He turned back to the dead Shana. "Bury them!" They had , and they prepared the mass grave the previous afternoon dragged the naked bodies away There was blood down the side of one truck where the machine-gunner had hung. "Wash that off!" One of the guerrillas dipped a canteen of water from the river. "And FJ wash off those uniforms." They would dry out in an hour or less.
Sarah returned before the burial party had finished. She was fully dressed again.
the girls back to the village, they know the "I have sent country well. They will be safe."
"You did well," Craig told her and climbed into the cab of the leading truck. The keys were in the ignition.
from out of the thick bush The burial party returned and Craig called in his pickets. The guerrilla detailed to drive the second truck started it, and then the rest of them climbed aboard. The two trucks crossed the bridge and growled up the far slope. The entire operation had taken less than thirty, five minutes. They reached the felled mhoba,hobo tree and Comrade Lookout stepped into the track and directed them off the road. Craig parked in thick cover, and immediately a gang of guerrillas covered both gan vehicles with cut branches, and another gang be unloading the cargo, and clearing the roadblock.
There were two-hundred, pound sacks of maize meal, of canned meat, blankets, medicines, cigarettes, cases to the ammunition, soap, sugar, salt all of it priceless guerrillas. It was all carried away, and Craig knew it would be hidden and retrieved later whenever the opportunity occurred. There were a dozen kit bags containing the dead troopers" personal gear, a treasure trove of Third Brigade uniforms, even two of the famous burgundy berets. While the guerrillas dressed in these uniforms, Craig checked the time. It was a little after five o'clock.
