Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur (читать книги онлайн регистрации .TXT) 📗
He waited impatiently, glancing at his watch every few minutes.
The explosion, when at last it came, was a brief orange flare, like sheet lightning over the northern horizon, followed after a long pause by the puff of the shock-wave against his face and a sound like distant surf breaking on a rocky shore.
Manfred kick-started the motorcycle and drove southwards into the night.
It was a good beginning, he thought, but there was so much still to do.
Blaine looked up as Shasa entered his office and hesitated in the doorway. He was neatly dressed in airforce uniform, medal ribbons on his chest, DFC and Africa Star, and the badges of rank on his shoulders.
Morning, Shasa,Blaine nodded bleakly. Ten o'clock. May I offer you a whisky? Shasa winced. I came to apologize for my behaviour the other day, sir. It was inexcusable. Sit down. Blaine pointed at the buttoned leather armchair against the bookcase. We all act like blathering idiots at some time in our lives. The trick is to know when you are doing it. Apology accepted. Shasa sat down and crossed his legs, then uncrossed them.
You mentioned a job, sir? Blaine nodded and stood up. He moved to the window and stood staring down into the gardens. An old woman was feeding the pigeons from a paper bag. He watched her as he made his final decision. Was he letting his concern for Centaine Courtney and her son cloud his sense of duty? What he had in mind was critical to the welfare of the state.
Was Shasa too young and inexperienced for the task? he wondered. But he had gone over this many times already, and he turned back to his desk.
He picked up a plain uninarked black folder. This is highly classified, he said as he weighed the folder in his right hand. A most secret and sensitive report and appreciation. He handed it to Shasa. It is not to leave this office.
Read it here. I have a meeting with Field Marshal Smuts. He Pulled back his sleeve and glanced at his watch. I will be back in an hour. We'll talk again then. He was longer than an hour, and when he returned Shasa was still reading. He looked up at Blaine from the armchair with the open folder in his hands, and his expression was troubled and grave.
What do you make of it? Blaine asked.
Of course, I have heard of the O B, Shasa replied. But I had no idea it was anything like this. It's a secret army, sir, right in our midst. If it were ever to be fully mobilized against us, he shook his head, trying to find the words.
A revolution, a civil war, while most of our own fighting men are up north. They have begun to move, Blaine said softly. Until now they have been procrastinating, in typical Afrikaner style, squabbling amongst themselves, but something has happened recently to give them new purpose, he broke off, thought for a moment, then went on. It goes without saying, Shasa, that nothing we discuss must be repeated to anybody, not even closest family. Of course, sir. Shasa looked aggrieved.
You read about the explosion of a dynamite train on the Touws river line two weeks ago? Yes, sir, a frightful accident. The driver and his crew went up with it. We have new evidence. We don't believe it was an accident. The crew were all in the guard's van, and there are indications that at least one of them was bound hand and foot. We believe that a large quantity of explosives was hijacked from the train, and afterwards the remainder was detonated to cover the theft. Shasa whistled softly.
I believe this was merely a beginning. I believe that a new phase has begun and that it is going to escalate swiftly from now onwards. As I said, something has happened to trigger it, we have to find out what it is and crush it. How can I help, sir? This thing is big, nationwide. I have to keep close contact with the police chiefs of each of the various provinces together with military intelligence. The entire operation must be closely coordinated. I need a personal assistant, a liaison officer. I'm offering you the job. I'm honoured, sir, but I can't see why you have chosen me. There must be dozens of other better qualified,, We know each other well, Shasa, Blaine interrupted him.
We have worked together over many years. We make a good team. I trust you. I know you have both brains and guts. I don't need a policeman. I need someone who understands my thinking and who I know will follow my orders implicitly. Suddenly Blaine grinned. Besides which, you need a job. Am I right? You are right, sir. Thank you. 'You are on convalescent leave at the moment, but I will have you seconded from the airforce to the Department of the interior immediately. You will keep your rank and pay as squadron leader, but you will report directly to me from now on. I understand, sir. 'Shasa, have you flown since you lost your eye? He came right out and spoke about the eye without evasion. Nobody, not even Mater, had done that. Shasa's regard for him was reinforced.
No, sir,he said.
Pity. You may be required to move around the country pretty damned quickly. He watched Shasa's face, saw his jaw clench determinedly.
It's only a matter of judging distance accurately, Shasa muttered. Just practice. Blaine felt a glow of gratification.
Try hitting a polo ball again, he suggested off handedly.
Good practice in developing judgement, but let's discuss more serious business now. The police officer in overall charge of the investigation is Chief Inspector Louis Nel, here at the Cape Town Central Station. I'll introduce you. He's a first-rate chap, you'll like him. They talked and planned for another hour before Blaine dismissed him. That's enough for you to get on with. Report back to me here at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. But when Shasa reached the door he stopped him.
By the way, Shasa, Friday night. The invitation is still open. Eight o'clock. Black tie or mess kit. Try and make it, won't you? Sarah Stander lay alone in the brass-framed bed in the darkness. The older children were sleeping in the next room.
The baby in the cot beside her bed snuffled contentedly in her sleep.
The town hall clock struck four o'clock. She had listened to it chime every hour since midnight. She thought she would go through to the other room to make sure the children were covered, little Petrus always kicked off his blankets, but at that moment she heard the kitchen door open stealthily and she went rigid and held her breath to listen.
She heard Roelf come through and begin undressing in the bathroom, the double thump-thump as he dropped his boots, then a little later the bedroom door creaked and the bed tipped under his weight. She pretended to be sleeping. It was the first time he had ever stayed out this late. He had changed so much since Manfred had returned.
She lay unsleeping in the darkness and thought, He is the bringer of trouble. He will destroy us all. I hate you, Manfred De La Rey. Beside her she knew Roelf was not sleeping either. He was restless and strung up. The hours passed slowly, and she forced herself to lie still. Then the baby whimpered and she took her into the bed and gave her one of her breasts.
Sarah's milk had always been strong and good, and the baby drank and burped and dropped back to sleep. She returned her to the cot, and the moment she slipped back under the sheet Roelf reached for her. Neither of them spoke, and she steeled herself to accept him. She hated this. It was never like it had been on those well-remembered occasions with Manfred. However, tonight Roelf was different. He mounted her quickly, almost brutally, and ended swiftly with a hoarse wild cry and he fell off her into a deep sleep. She lay and listened to him snore.
At breakfast she asked him quietly, Where were you last night? instantly he was angry. Hold your mouth, woman, he shouted at her, using the word bek, the mouth of an animal not a human being. You are not my keeper. You are involved in some dangerous foolishness. She ignored the warning. You have three little ones, Roelf. You cannot afford stupidity Enough, woman! he yelled at her. This is man's business.
