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'You tracked me? How did you know I'd escaped?'
Yoinakuwa held his spear up like a rifle and made as if to fire it several times. Then he mimicked Stratton running right past him.
Stratton began to laugh, mostly in relief. He stretched out his hand. Yoinakuwa looked at it a moment, then took it. 'Thanks,' Stratton said, getting to his feet. 'It's good to see you.'
Yoinakuwa pointed in the direction the stream ran.
'Where are we going?' Stratton asked.
Yoinakuwa simply looked at him.
Stratton had no idea where they were or where they were headed but at least Yoinakuwa was not the enemy. 'Lead on,' he said, gesturing to indicate that the old man should go on ahead of him.
They went quickly but before they'd gone a kilometre Stratton had to stop to inspect the soles of his feet. They were badly cut in places. With his adrenalin gone, the discomfort was intense.
Yoinakuwa hacked two large leaves from a nearby plant and after tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the ends he deftly wrapped and secured one around each of Stratton's feet. Stratton stood and tested them. They felt remarkably comfortable. What was more, the leaf seemed to have a cooling effect on his skin.
Yoinakuwa handed Stratton a couple more leaves, suggesting to him that the current ones would not last for ever, and off they went again.
The footwear lasted well on soft earth but rocky surfaces took their toll and after a couple of kilometres they needed replacing. By the time the leaves needed changing again Yoinakuwa had found some more.
As dawn broke, the general direction in which they were heading became more clear. But Stratton still had no idea where they were. Yoinakuwa marched decisively. Experience had taught Stratton in some situations not to ask and simply to follow. But his anxiety grew with every step. He had to get to the rebel camp and Louisa.
As they left the forest and the early-morning light grew over the horizon the terrain became familiar. Stratton felt sure he had seen the hills before.They began to climb up a steep incline into another forest. Among the trees the ground was rocky and they crossed a track where he noticed some spent AK47 casings. They were s.h.i.+ny, indicating the possibility of a recent firefight.
As they went up the hill Stratton scanned around, trying to recall why he thought he had seen the place before. When he saw a shattered tree, its top half on the ground, he realised where they were. It was the site of the failed ambush, where they had found the hanging rebels.
Stratton ran past the rebels' ambush position to the top of the rise. He kept on going between the trees, leaving Yoinakuwa behind, to find where his emergency stores were hidden.
The tree with the mark cut into its bark was there and he reached between the roots at its base. He pulled away the earth and leaves and, to his immense relief, found his pack. He looked over at Yoinakuwa who was stone-faced. The old man had known about the pack all along.
Stratton opened it up, untied the waterproof bag and pulled out the pistol sitting on the top, a pair of trousers, s.h.i.+rt, underpants, socks, belt and camouflaged trainers. A side pocket contained a plastic bag with a pa.s.sport and money, another a medical pack, GPS, compa.s.s, water-sterilising bottle, some food and matches.
Stratton took off his dirty underpants and quickly pulled on his clean clothes. As he laced up his footwear he heard movement through the wood. He glanced at Yoinakuwa who was clearly aware of it but had not responded. Stratton picked up his pistol and moved to where he could see the source. Kebowa and Mohesiwa were walking towards them. Behind them was Victor.
Stratton was pleased to see the Frenchman who looked no worse for wear than himself.
Victor grinned broadly on seeing Stratton. They hugged briefly in celebration of their survival.
'What happened to you?' Victor asked.
'I was looking for you when the wrong people found me. What about you?'
Victor sighed as he sat heavily on a fallen tree trunk to take the weight off his sore legs. 'I made the mistake of accusing Hector of trying to kill Sebastian.' Victor looked around, recognising the place himself. 'I wondered why they were bringing me here.Yoinakuwa and his boys seem to have everything worked out.'
Stratton threaded the belt through his trouser loops and attached the holster that his pistol fitted snugly into. A ray of light pierced the treetops as the sun rose over the distant hills. 'Neravista's soldiers are going to take out Sebastian's camp.'
'Hector has betrayed him.'
'Steel's the real manipulator.'
Victor nodded. 'I always suspected as much. What are your plans now? You want to take me along?'
'Sure,' Stratton said, pulling his small pack onto his back. 'You up to a brisk march?'
'Why brisk? We have all the time in the world.'
'They're going to attack today, Victor.'
Victor looked at Stratton, suddenly aware of his intentions. 'You're not going to the border, getting out of this country?'
Stratton realised they had been at cross-purposes and was somewhat disappointed in Victor. 'I'm going to the camp.'
'You're crazy! Neravista will hit Sebastian with everything he has. He'll kill everyone.'
'That's why I'm going.'
'They're probably attacking as we speak.'
'Then there's no time to waste.'
Victor felt confused. 'You're going to get Louisa.'
Stratton checked his compa.s.s. He was ready to go but stopped to look at Victor, understanding the Frenchman's dilemma. 'I don't expect you to come. It's over for you now. You take care of yourself,' Stratton said, offering his hand.
'You're not mad at me?' Victor asked.
'Why should I be? There's nothing you can do. Enjoy France - if that's where you're headed.' Stratton turned to go.
'Wait,' Victor called out. 'Wait. Just one moment.'
Stratton paused, impatient to go.
'I should go. I'm the brigade second in command.'
'There's nothing you can do.'
'Then why do I feel so d.a.m.ned guilty?'
Stratton had no answer for him. Victor watched him go.
Chapter 9.
A battery of four howitzers was lined up in the clearing where the Neravistas had their headquarters, the barrels angled for maximum trajectory. The sky had cleared but everything was still dripping wet. The battery commander glanced at his watch, as he had done every twenty seconds or so for the last few minutes. He stared at the second hand as it jerked its way closer to the top of the hour. He raised an arm and held it there. When the slender hand reached the number twelve he brought it down sharply and the valley shuddered with a thunderous boom as the number one gun fired, mud splas.h.i.+ng up from its wheels as it recoiled.
Birds took to the air in every direction as the sh.e.l.l shot out of the clearing and into the sky on its journey away from the earth. It reached its maximum height ten seconds and five thousand metres from the end of the gun before levelling out.
Had the gunner been able to see through the nose of the sh.e.l.l he would have enjoyed a view of a large portion of his country: the interlacing valleys and lush green forests; rocky outcrops and steep ravines; streams and rivers flickering in the sunlight and patches of manicured agricultural squares. As the sh.e.l.l began its descent he would have seen the many snaking trails criss-crossing the countryside and the system of plateaus that was home to the rebel brigades. As the sh.e.l.l dropped closer to the ground he would have been able to make out Sebastian's camp, the cabins, the stables behind them, the patchwork of tents and campfires and the many tracks connecting them. He would have had to concentrate during the last few seconds because the image zoomed in rapidly as the sh.e.l.l seemed to accelerate towards an open piece of scrubland beyond the tented area.
It struck the ground where it exploded, kicking up a geyser of earth and sending fiery shrapnel in all directions, none of it harming a soul since n.o.body was within range of it.
Everyone in the camp heard the explosion and those on the outer defences looked back over their shoulders. They all had the same thought: the battle had begun. All rumours and speculations were resolved. The thought that followed immediately was whether anyone had been hurt. Those with family in the tented areas feared for them.
The men inside Sebastian's cabin hurried out to look in the direction of the explosion. Most of them ran off towards their posts.
Louisa came outside to see. Sebastian stood in the doorway and she looked back at him. He did not react. The blast merely signalled the start of the next chapter in a story whose ending he already knew.
On a high point beyond the camp perimeter, the site of a rebel lookout post before the rebels had pulled back, a group of Neravista army officers surveyed the view through binoculars. Their saddled horses were held in the background by soldiers, some of whom were setting up a machine-gun emplacement.
One of the officers took the handset from a soldier carrying a radio on his back, its ten-foot whip antenna sticking vertically out of its top. 'Drop five hundred,' he said into it. 'Right one hundred.'
Back at the artillery battery a radio operator relayed the message to the officer who pa.s.sed it to his gun crew. The howitzer's dial sights were adjusted and they looked up to see the commander with his arm raised again. As he brought it down they fired.
'It's away!' the officer at the lookout post called out and the others watched intently for the landing point. The sh.e.l.l announced its arrival with an accelerating scream that came to an abrupt stop a split second before the boom of a crunching explosion.
In unison the officers aimed their binoculars at the detonation, like observers at a racetrack as the horses go by. The sh.e.l.l had landed somewhere beyond the stables and although they could not see the precise impact point the plume of white smoke was clearly visible as it rose into the sky.
'Up two hundred,' the officer said into the radio handset.
The next sh.e.l.l arrived thirty seconds later and struck the centre of the tented camp, blowing a shack to smithereens. Seconds later women and children ran screaming from the camp's fringes.
'Mark that as centre,' the officer said casually into the radio. 'I want a random pattern four hundred metres radius of centre. Commence firing at will.'
Within a minute the sh.e.l.ls had started to scream in one by one, peppering the encampment within the perimeter. One struck close to the cabins and Louisa, still outside, was caught in a rush to find cover. She ran into the heavily sandbagged square on the edge of the courtyard clearing outside the cabins, along with a couple of men on their way through. As the dust settled she recognised the man preparing the machine gun in the emplacement that would defend the approaches to the cabins from the camp entrance. It was David.
'It's going to be a busy day, I think,' David said as he helped his partner prepare the belts of ammunition.
The rebels who had taken cover with Louisa scrambled out and hurried on their way. Louisa peered over the top of the sandbags as the sh.e.l.ls started landing everywhere.
Sebastian leaned on the table, looking down on the map of the encampment. He had made all the preparations he could think of. It was now up to his men to do the best they could. He expected the bombardment to continue for some time, hours perhaps. The Neravistas would soften up the place as much as possible. When they were satisfied that enough damage had been done, both physically and psychologically, they would send in the troops.The garrison's only hope was that enough men would survive to repel the a.s.sault. In the back of his mind Sebastian hoped that Hector and the other brigades might have a change of heart at the last moment and attack the enemy's rear. But deep down he feared it was a fantasy.
A group of riders galloped into the lookout position, Neravista's battle commanders, Steel and Ventura among them. The general himself dismounted along with his immediate entourage and joined the officers watching the scene through their binoculars. The subalterns saluted briskly and stepped back to allow the general to survey the scene.
'Some breakfast, I think,' the general said, scanning the panorama through his binoculars.
One of his officers hurried off to check on the preparations. The general had decided to make a display of his confidence and sophistication by including caterers in the advance party at the outpost. They arrived with burros laden with stores and the cooks and waiters began setting up chairs and tables, spreading white tablecloths and unpacking silverware and hampers.
Dozens of trays covered with a variety of culinary delights were placed on the tables among plates and silverware, pots of coffee, overflowing bread baskets, bowls of fruit and platters of cheeses. Wine was served in silver goblets and a humidor offered a selection of fine cigars. Waiters fanned away the flies and provided service at the snap of a finger.
'Where's the band?' Steel quipped as he accepted a cup of coffee and a selection of canapes.
'There's your music,' Ventura replied, waving a hand as the artillery salvos maintained a continuous staccato of booms and crunches.
'I gotta hand it to you guys,' Steel said. 'You do war in style.'
Laughter and conversation continued as men stuffed food into their mouths, washed down with coffee and wine, in between aiming their binoculars at the rebel camp that was now dotted with plumes of smoke.
The roof of Sebastian's former cabin exploded and a wall collapsed as the inside caught fire. Another sh.e.l.l landed near the stables, frightening the animals. The white stallion reared up as it was led to its stall.
Sh.e.l.ls pummelled the main accommodation areas where women and children lay dead and wounded. Some survivors huddled in groups while others sought shelter in the woods.
A direct hit on the ammunition store caused it to blow up, creating a fiery display and prompting a round of applause from the officers at the lookout post.
Explosions peppered the perimeter and men lay in sh.e.l.l holes. A tree exploded, showering those below with deadly shrapnel and splintered branches. It seemed like there was no place to hide.
Rebel commanders moved down the line of men, calling for calm and telling them to prepare for the enemy's inevitable charge. Stretcher bearers removed the seriously injured while women made their way along the lines looking for the wounded, doing what they could with limited medical supplies. The dead were left where they fell.
Louisa heard crying and looked over her sandbag wall to see a woman and several children running across the courtyard desperately trying to find somewhere to hide. A sh.e.l.l landed nearby. She hurried towards them and grabbed two of the children, yelling for the woman to follow with the others.
Louisa brought them back into the sandbagged position and the whimpering family huddled in a corner behind the machine gun. Louisa held one of the children in her arms in an attempt to console her while covering her ears against the deafening noise of the explosions.
'How long will this go on for?' Louisa asked David.
'Could be hours,' he replied, as another sh.e.l.l landed close to them, sending earth and shards of metal flying over their heads.
As Stratton walked fast along a goat track near the bottom of a valley he caught sight of movement on the ridge above him and dropped into the long gra.s.s.
He crawled carefully away and leaned up enough to take a look. Yoinakuwa was standing on a rock and looking down at him. 'What is it with that bloke?' Stratton muttered.