‘There,’ said Sam, pointing across the lake.
‘Nice one,’ Steve commented, wiping rainwater from his eyes. ‘I really fancied a dip.’
‘Strip off, boys, we’re going swimming,’ said Ollie. ‘Last one in’s a rotten egg.’
Sam just smiled. ‘Behind the waterfall, there’s a secret cave,’ she said. ‘Nobody would ever find it unless they knew it was there. The General kept a stack of supplies inside. He prepared it after Independence, just in case the family ever had to make a run for it. It should still be there - and Archie doesn’t know about it.’
Steve started to wade into the water. It was fifty feet across to the waterfall, through water that was covered with lily pads and reeds. It was bitingly cold, and the rain was still falling, creating currents that swirled around you. He waded the first twenty feet, but after that the lake became too deep. Kicking forwards, he started to swim, with Ian and Ollie right behind him. Closing his eyes and his mouth as he approached the cascading water, Steve headed into the waterfall. He could feel the spray and foam crashing over him, took a deep breath, and kicked himself right down into the water, pushing back with his legs, and not breaking up onto the surface again until he had covered a clear ten feet. As he burst upwards, he took a lungful of air and looked around. It was pitch black, but he could see the waterfall was clearly behind him now.
‘There,’ said Ollie at his side.
Five feet in front of him, Steve could see a rocky ledge, its surface splashed with water; behind that was a cave. He swam straight towards it and clambered upwards. The entrance measured thirty feet by ten, but narrowed sharply. Inside, it was pitch black. Behind him, Steve could hear the crashing of the waterfall, but he could see hardly anything.
‘Look, at this,’ said Ian.
He had found a gas lamp, attached to the wall; next to it was a lighter, wrapped in a waterproof pouch to keep it dry. The Irishman torched up the lamp, the pale light immediately bouncing across the dark rocks, revealing the extent of the cave, which stretched inside 100 feet or more. Along the side, you could see neat stacks of food and weapons, all of it carefully cratered away in wooden boxes.
‘Get the others,’ Steve said to Ollie. ‘It looks like we’re in luck. The General’s stash is all intact.’ He started to walk inside the cave, his eyes bouncing from one box to another. ‘Christ. It looks like he put aside enough kit to take on a whole army.’
‘Just as well,’ said Ian. ‘Because that’s precisely what we’re up against.’
Forty-Three
TEVE HAULED SAM OUT OF the water and up onto the ledge. Her hair was dripping wet, and her eyes were tired and strained. But you could see the hint of a smile in her eyes. The kit was still there. Just the way she had said it would be.
We’ve trusted her twice, thought Steve.
And both times she has come through for us.
Both Ganju and Ian had torched up gas lamps and were leading the wet and bedraggled group of men into the interior of the cave. The General had done a fine job, reflected Steve. The man was a soldier, and a good one, and he knew what you’d need if you made a run for it. It was just a shame he hadn’t had a chance to use it himself.
The old guy must have been thinking about this stash as Kapembwa’s thugs beat him to death on the floor of his own house.
Most of the kit had been laid down here at least twenty years ago, but it had been carefully sealed and, despite the waterfall in front of it, the interior of the cave was completely dry, and sheltered from the extremes of both summer and winter.
One row of boxes contained everything they needed for basic survival. There were two decent-sized tents, with waterproof groundsheets, and sleeping bags, as well as pots and pans to cook with. There were also knives and compasses and ropes, and ten pairs of sturdy walking boots in a variety of sizes. The tins of food contained beans, sausages and fish, canned vegetables - and more beans. It wouldn’t be the best grub any of them had ever tasted but it would keep them alive. Then there was the fighting kit. Again, it had been quite old when it was laid down, and that was two decades ago. It was mostly gear used by the old Batotean Army. There was a rack of South-African-made FN-FAL assault rifles, standard issue for the Batotean infantry, and a box of Enfield .38 Revolvers, a British weapon that dated all the way back to the Second World War, but which had remained in service in Batota long after it had been replaced in the British Army. Both the Enfields and the FNs came with ten boxes of ammunition, all of it in good working order. Next to that were two cases of grenades, and two boxes of plastic explosive.