Sheba. Part 19

Somewhere, there was a scream of terror, and something hard poked him under the chin. He opened his eyes and looked along the barrel of a rifle.

The man on the other end was a Yemeni in coloured turban, his half-naked body smeared with indigo dye. At some time in the past, his ears had been cropped - the sign of a thief- and his right cheek branded.

Two others were dragging Ruth Cunningham from the cabin, and as Kane scrambled to his feet, her s.h.i.+rt ripped and she fell to the ground. One of the men laughed and dragged her upright by the hair.

The man's face had been eaten away by yaws, his eyes burned out of a ma.s.s of putrefying flesh and there were two holes where his nose had once been. Ruth Cunningham stared with horror into that ghastly face and fainted.

Kane took a step towards her and the three Yemenis all swung their rifles ominously. 'It would be unwise to move,' the one with the cropped ears said in harsh, guttural Arabic.

Kane moistened dry lips. 'Take us to Bir el Madani and there will be a rich reward for you.'

The one with the face out of a nightmare uttered an oath and spat. He took a quick step forward, reversing his rifle, and rammed the b.u.t.t into Kane's stomach. One of them took the Colt automatic from his hip pocket. Then they left him for a while, his face in the sand, breathing deeply and waiting for the agony to pa.s.s.

The three men were outlaws - so much was obvious. But how were they going to act, that was the important thing? They seemed to be having an argument and Kane opened his eyes, his breathing easier, and tried to listen.

Dirty brown feet encased in leather sandals appeared before his face and a hand pulled him into a sitting position. He found himself facing the man with the cropped ears.

He squatted in front of Kane, rifle c.o.c.ked in his arms and grinned. 'It is time for us to go now.'

'Take us to Bir el Madani,' Kane urged desperately. 'You will receive a large reward, I promise you. Five thousand Maria Theresa dollars.'

The Yemeni shook his head. 'Over the border I am a dead man walking.' He nodded towards Ruth Cunningham. 'We can make as much money selling the woman in the slave market at Sana.'

'Ten thousand,' Kane said. 'Name your price. She is a very rich woman in her own country.'

The Arab shook his head. 'How can I be sure she would honour the bargain? A white woman commands a high price in the Yemen.'

'And what about me?' Kane said.

The Yemeni shrugged. 'My friends wished to cut your throat, but I have persuaded them otherwise. Whether you live or die is your own affair. Shabwa is but a short step for a strong man.'

Kane frowned. 'I don't understand.'

The Yemeni grinned. 'You do not remember me? Two years ago when the Bal Harith were camped near Shabwa? There was some question of a stolen horse. If they had caught me, it would have meant my life. You allowed me to hide in your truck until darkness. The ways of Allah are strange.'

Kane remembered the incident at once. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. 'Help us to safety and I'll see you are richly rewarded. At least you owe me that.'

The Yemeni shook his head and stood up. 'A life for a life. Now I owe you nothing. Rest content. My friends wished to relieve you of your manhood, at least. If you are wise, you will stay quiet until we have gone.'

He joined his two companions who had already mounted their camels, one of them slinging Ruth Cunningham's unconscious body across his wooden saddle. Kane stood by helplessly as they rode away from the plane and disappeared into a fold of the dunes.

He glanced at his watch. It was just after noon, which meant that he had slept for longer than he had supposed. For a moment he stood there, considering and rejecting possible courses of action. But there was really no solution - just the slightest chance that he might be able to do something with the radio. He climbed into the cabin and set to work.

From the beginning it was hopeless and yet he kept on working, long after it became obvious that the set was damaged beyond repair, hoping to nurse into life a spark which would live long enough to carry a message to the outside world.

Sweat dripped from his body and the heat in the cabin enveloped him so that he had to stop on several occasions for rest and water. It was shortly after three when he finally admitted defeat. He sat back wearily and started to light a cigarette. At that moment, he heard the sound of an engine approaching through the stillness.

He jumped down to the ground and stood there listening, a sudden wild hope inside him. It was close, very close. As he shaded his eyes with one hand and looked up, a truck topped a dune a hundred yards away and came towards him.

Marie was driving, with Jamal sitting beside her. As Kane went towards them, she cut the engine, slid from behind the wheel, and ran to meet him. 'Are you all right, Gavin?' she demanded anxiously.

He nodded. 'I'm fine, but I don't understand. How did you get here so quickly?'

'It's a long story,' she said. 'Is Mrs Cunningham in the plane?'

He shook his head. 'I'm afraid not.'

He quickly described what had happened, and when u uuuuuuuuu(uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuI. C LJ t? T) A uuuuuuuu.uuuu.uuuu.uuuuuuuuu.uuuuuuuuuuuuuu he had finished, Marie looked grave. 'If we don't catch them before darkness, there's no knowing what they might do to her.'

He nodded. 'If we get moving straight away, we should find them without much difficulty.'

He sat beside Marie in the front seat, Jamal climbed into the back, and within a few moments they were moving, following the clearly defined tracks of the three camels.

The truck was fitted with twelve forward gears and this, coupled with four-wheel drive, made it ideal for crossing the s.h.i.+fting sand dunes.

Kane leaned back in his seat. 'You'd better fill me in on what happened at Bir el Madani.'

'I finished my business with Jordan by eleven,' Marie told him. 'He sent Jamal and me back to the village in this truck with one of his drivers. When we reached the airstrip, Omar was waiting for us. He said there was a stranger in the village - a coast Arab who had been heard to boast that you would not be returning.'

'And Omar actually volunteered this information?' Kane said.

She smiled faintly. 'You'll never understand the complexity of the Arab mind, Gavin. To kill your enemy face-to-face is one thing, but a trick such as tampering with the plane,' - she shrugged - 'to Omar, such a thing would lack honour.'

J34.

Til go along with that,' Kane said, 'but how did you find out for certain what had happened?'

'Omar pointed out the man in question, and Jamal took him behind a hut and questioned him. He was stubborn, but with his right arm broken and the threat of similar treatment to his left, he saw reason.'

Kane glanced sharply at her in amazement. 'My G.o.d, you don't believe in half-measures, do you?'

'My mother was a Ras.h.i.+d,' she said calmly. 'We are a hard people, especially when the things we value are threatened.'

To that, there could be no reply, and Kane said, 'He'd tampered with the fuel tank, I suppose?'

'He took advantage of the confusion when the villagers were swarming around the bodies of the a.s.sa.s.sins. No one noticed him in the crowd.'

'Did you manage to find out who'd paid him?'

She nodded. 'Just as you thought - Selim.'

Kane frowned. 'He must really hate me to go to all this trouble. How did you manage to find the plane so easily?'

'I knew you were flying on a direct line from Shabwa to Marib. I took a bearing, followed the compa.s.s and hoped for the best. I sent Jordan's driver back to the camp with a note explaining what had happened.'

Kane grinned wryly. 'You're fast becoming indispensable.'

For once she could find nothing to say and concentrated on her driving, following the twisting tracks with ease until they finally came to a broad plain of flat sand mixed with gravel, which stretched away into the distance. She moved into top gear and pressed her foot flat against the boards.