Leopard Hunts in Darkness - Smith Wilbur (книга бесплатный формат .TXT) 📗

Tungata hurled him backwards across the cabin, and Peter hit the rear bulkhead. He slid down it and rolled onto his side, pulling up his knees into the foetal position, and under the crushing eight of defeat and capitulation he moaned quietly an covered his head with both arms.

Craig climbed unsteadily up into the cockpit, and sank into the co-pilot's seat.

"What the hell is happening?" Sally' Anne demanded.

"Nothing serious. I only just managed to stop Sam killing Peter Fungabera."

"Why did you bother?" Sally-Anne raised her voice above the clatter of the rotors overhead. "I'd love a shot at that swine myself."

"Darling, can you get a radio connection to the United States Embassy in Harare?" She thought about it. "Not from this aircraft." "Give them the registration of the Cessna, I'll lay odds it hasn't been reported missing yet."

"I'll have to go through Johannesburg approach, they're the only station with sufficient range."

"I don't care how just get Morgan Oxford on the blower." Johannesburg approach radio responded promptly to Sally-Anne's call and accepted her call-sign with equanimity.

t "Report your position, Kilo Yankee Alpha."

"Northern Botswana--2 Sally-Anne anticipated by an hour's flying time, "en route Francistown to Maun."

"What is the number you wish to connect in Harare?" "Person,to-person with the cultural attache, Morgan Oxford, at the United States Embassy. I'm sorry, I don't know the number."

"Hold on." And in less than a minute Morgan Oxford spoke through the static.

"Oxford here. Who is this?" Sally-Anne passed the microphone to Craig and he held it to his lips and depressed the transmit button.

"MOrgan, it's Craig, Craig Mellow."

"Holy shid" Morgan's voice became strident. "Where die hell are you? All hell is breaking out. Where is Sally Anne

"Morgan, listen. This is deadly serious. How would you like to interrogate a full colonel of Russian intelligence, complete with his files of planned Russian aggression in and destabilization of the southern half of the African continent?" There was nothing but the hum of static for many seconds and then Morgan said, "Wait ten!" The w air seemed much longer than ten seconds, and then Morgan came back.

"Don't say anything else. just give me a rendezvous point." "These are map references-" Craig read off the map coordinates that Sally' Anne had scribbled down for him. "There is an emergency landing, strip there. I will light a signal fire. How long for you to get there?"

"Wait ten! "This time it was shorter. "Dawn tomorrow." 'llnderstood,"Craig acknowledged. "We will be waiting."

"Over and out." He handed the microphone back to Sally-Anne.

"Border crossing in forty, three minutes," she told him.

"That mud pack suits you. I'm beginning to think it's an improvement."

"And you, beautiful, are a racing certainty for the cover of Vogue!" She blew the hair off her nose and stuck her tongue out at him.

hey crossed the border between Zimbabwe and Northern Botsw asa and seventeen minutes later they saw the kired Land-Rover standing exactly where they had left it on the edge of the wide white salt pan

(my God, Sarah's buddies are still there that's constancy for you." Craig made out the two tiny figures standing beside the vehicle. "We'd better warn them, or when they see die government markings they are going to start shooting." Sarah called down to the waiting Matabele through the sky-shout" loud hailer as they approached, reassuring them, and Craig saw them lower their rifles as the Super Frelon sank lower. He could make out the beatific grins on the upturned faces of the two young Matabele.

Jonas had shot a spring buck that morning, so there was a feast of broiled venison steaks and salted maize cakes that evening, and afterwards they drew lots for guard duty over the two prisoners.

They first heard the drone of an approaching aircraft when it was still pearly half-light the next morning, and Craig drove out onto the pan in the Land-Rover to light the smudge fires. It came in from the South, an enormous Lockheed cargo plane with US Air Force markings. Sally Anne recognized it. "That is the NASA machine based at Johannesburg to monitor the shuttle programme."

"They are really taking us seriously," Craig murmured, as the Lockheed lowered itself to earth.

"It has amazing short take-off and landing capability," Sally-Anne told him. "Just watch." The gigantic aircraft pulled up in the same distance that the Cessna had used. The nose section opened like the bill of a pelican and five men came down the ramp, led by Morgan Oxford.

"Like five sardines from a can," Craig observed, as they went forward to greet them. The visitors all wore tropical t.

suits, white shirts with button, down collars and neckties and they all moved with athletes" balance and awareness.

"Sally-Anne. Craig." Morgan Oxford shook hands tOf briefly, and then acknowledged Tungata. course, I know you, Mr. Minister, these are my colleagues." He did not introduce them, but went straight on, "Are these the subjects?" The two young Matabele brought the prisoners forward at gunpoint.

"Son of a gun!" Morgan Oxford exclaimed. "That's General Fungabera Craig, are you out of your mind?"