Chris had already fired up the engine and taken her for a spin around the lake. ‘She runs fine,’ he said gruffly. ‘We’ll get there in one piece.’ He pointed towards a scaly pair of eyes staring at them from the far side of the lake. ‘So long as the crocs don’t get us, of course.’
Over the course of the afternoon, Ollie and Chris fixed the weapons they’d need. The heavy KPV machine gun was bolted onto the front of the boat, and space cleared for its cartridges. Ollie loosened off a few rounds, wounding one of the crocodiles in the process, as he tested the set-up. The boat swayed viciously in the water from the KPV’s massive kickback, but the hull was deep enough to hold it steady. On the back of the boat was a pair of MAGs, machine guns made by Fabrique Nationale of Belgium. The MAG - it stood for Mitrailleuse d’Appui Général or General Purpose Machine Gun - was one of the most widely available firearms in the world, and all the men were familiar with how it worked. The boat was fitted with the 60-40 model, designed for fighting vehicles, and they were fitted on a swivel platform, giving a single gunner a 360-degree arc of fire.
As they inspected the boat, Ollie and Chris were satisfied that it was well defended. Next, they started to load the RPGs. They had two launchers they’d brought up from Ibera with them, plus twenty rockets. A man on either side of the boat, sitting just back from the KPV, should be able to get a clear shot at the fort. As they came in, they’d be laying down heavy fire from the KPV plus the two RPGs, and they’d have the two MAGs to protect their flanks. For such a small vessel, it was an awesome line-up of firepower.
‘All set?’ asked Ollie.
Chris shook his head. ‘We need a searchlight,’ he answered. ‘We’re coming in just as dawn breaks, and there could well be some mist on the lake. We might not be able to see anything.’
While Chris retrieved a searchlight from the fort, Ollie checked and double-checked the engine, making sure that everything was working smoothly. When they were finished, they returned to the base. It was already after four in the afternoon, and the air was heavy with moisture.
Ian had spent the day making a series of six stun grenades that would be dropped on the fort just as the chopper came down. Similar to the grenades he’d used in the jail break-out, he’d based them on the American M84 grenade, a variant of the basic SAS device known as a ‘flash’n’crash’ because it generated both a blinding flash of light and a vicious swirl of noise that could totally disorientate an enemy for up to a minute. The M84 used a mix of magnesium and ammonium, both of which Ian had bought in Johannesburg. They were mixed into a compact tube, with a short fuse wire that should give them a detonation time of precisely five seconds. The men would tip them down into the fort as the chopper swooped in for the attack. Within five feet of detonation, the grenade would produce 170 decibels of sound, which is about 30 per cent louder than standing right underneath a 747 at take-off. The flash would be bright enough to temporarily blind anyone not wearing protective glasses. All four men coming down on the ropes would be wearing protective glasses and ear mufflers - enough, they hoped, to give them a crucial edge over the soldiers they’d be fighting on the ground.
Nick had been zeroing all the weapons: every new gun had to be tested, particularly if you were about to take it into battle. He was the best shot among them, and he took each rifle and pistol, set himself a target, then fired and fired until he could be certain that its sights and aim were true. Every time he fired, he muttered, ‘Kill,’ silently under his breath. It was hard, patient work, requiring hour after hour of concentration. But one faulty weapon could make the difference between success or failure. Nick worked methodically, getting each weapon just right before he marked it down as ready for use. By the end of the afternoon, two of the AK-47s and one of the Uzis had been discarded. The rest were OK.
Ganju had been fixing up a two-way radio. Dawn would break at just after six in the morning, according to the weather forecasts they’d seen back in Ibera. They wanted to come in for the attack just as the light was hazy, so that their enemy would still be sleeping, but also so that there would be some light to shoot into. The boat would take around three hours to get to the fort, the chopper about half an hour. They had to co-ordinate the attack perfectly so that they went in at precisely the same time - and that meant they needed radio contact. Ganju set up a short-wave system using electronic transmitters that would keep the two sides in constant communication but shouldn’t be on any of the frequencies monitored inside the fort. If they were overheard, that would spell disaster: the attack could only work if they had total surprise on their side.