‘And then?’
‘We don’t want to waste any time with the execution,’ said Wallace, taking another hit of the rum. ‘As soon as the men get here, we’ll strap that Tshaka bastard to a stake and get the big man to put some bullets into him.’
He opened up the second bottle of rum and put it on the table. Maksim immediately grabbed hold of it, pouring a measure into his cup.
‘So you boys have a drink, then get your heads down,’ Wallace told them. ‘You can watch the show tomorrow morning. Then, if you want to, you can take a few days to see the sights, or you can all bugger straight off home.’
As he turned and left the room, Ollie poured himself a stiff drink, waiting until the door was shut before speaking. He checked no one was listening outside, then he glanced across at Steve. ‘The job’s just beginning.’
Steve nodded. ‘We need a plan,’ he said. He looked at Newton. ‘How should we play it?’
‘As soon as Kapembwa lands, he’ll have my brother with him,’ said Newton. ‘I’ll walk up to him and shake his hand. After I’ve whispered in his ear, I’ll know that he’s agreed to the plan. I’ll nod to you twice, like so . . . then we wait for Tshaka to be executed. As soon as the deed is done, we put a bullet through the President. My brother will stop the troops from retaliating. Then we make our escape.’
‘I think we should have something ready,’ said Ian. ‘A back-up plan.’
‘There is no need. The plan is a good one,’ Newton told him sternly. ‘My brother controls the Army totally, and he’ll do what I say.’
Ian shrugged. ‘All the same, I don’t like to hang around after an assassination.’
‘We’ll get a boat ready,’ said David. ‘We’re only a mile from the lake. Let’s secure a boat tonight, then get straight on that when the job’s done and get clear into Tuka in less than an hour. We can catch a flight home from there.’
‘We’ll arrange that tonight,’ agreed Ollie. ‘And we’ll have a jeep ready as well. I don’t think any of us want to hang around this shit heap any longer than strictly necessary.’
‘That’s my country you’re talking about,’ said Newton sharply.
‘We’re taking your word for that,’ said Ian in a suspicious tone. ‘I just hope it’s true.’
Twenty-Nine
STEVE TURNED IN HIS SIMPLE metal bed, trying to get some sleep. But the air was hot and sticky and humid. And you could smell murder in it.
He checked his watch, a Luminox Navy Seal diving watch, originally developed for the American special forces; his Uncle Ken had given it to him the day he was accepted into the SAS. It was just after four in the morning. After running through the plan last night, Ian, Steve and Ganju had slipped down to the lake and managed to wake up one of the fishermen sleeping on his vessel: they told the guards on the gate they needed some air. Steve had promised him one of the gold Krugerrands he carried on his belt and left one as a deposit. The one-ounce coin was worth $1,000 - more than enough to persuade the man to be waiting for them tomorrow morning, ready to ferry them across to Tuka.
At least we’ve got that sorted, Steve thought. With a bit of luck, by tomorrow lunchtime, we’ll be sitting in the departure lounge, waiting for a plane back to London.
He thought briefly about Sam, wondering what she was doing and when he might see her again. He couldn’t remember a time when a girl had made such an impact on him. A soldier needs something to march for, he reminded himself. Sometimes it was a flag, sometimes an ideal. And sometimes it was a woman - and in this case, the woman was Samantha. She needed a man who could avenge her parents and her country: it was her way of coming to terms with her past. She’d chosen Steve for that task and, so far, he hadn’t any complaints about that.
Still thinking about her, he closed his eyes, determined to catch an hour or so of kip before the action kicked off again.
At five-thirty, David and Ollie were waking the unit up. The men were still exhausted by the battle they’d been through, but as soon as Dan brewed up a jug of coffee, the adrenaline and their training started to kick in. There was still fighting to be done. And until the last blow was landed on their enemy, none of them would be able to rest and recuperate properly.
‘Foot OK?’ Steve asked the Irishman.
Ian nodded. ‘Painful, but I’ll be all right,’ he replied.
There was some bread and fruit left out on the table to make a simple breakfast. Steve washed and checked his webbing. The AK-47 was just about out of ammo, the grenades were gone, and even the Uzi was running dangerously low on supplies. The heavy weaponry had all been left behind. If anything went wrong, they didn’t have much to hit back with.