Time of the Assassins

EIGHT

Sabrina gazed up at the myriad stars that speckled the night sky like a panoply of diamonds on a velvet background and could almost believe there was a heaven. What else could lie beyond such beauty? Although she had been raised a Catholic she had never really considered herself very religious and now only attended mass once a year with her parents at Christmas, and that was only to appease them. She smiled to herself. Why did the subject of religion always seem to crop up when she was on assignment? A subconscious attempt to avoid eternal perdition? She pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated instead on their plans.

It had been decided that the five of them would travel to Kondese alone. Tambese had told them that any attempt to take reinforcements would only alert the rebels. Sabrina had spoken privately to Graham about the decision to take Moredi and Laidlaw with them. Moredi knew the layout of Branco prison, having once been a prisoner there, and Laidlaw's speciality at Delta had been his ability to plan the best way in, or out, of a compound. Both would be invaluable but neither would be part of the assault team. Satisfied, Sabrina had let the matter drop.

Tambese had then collected an assortment of weaponry from the barracks before chartering a Cessna from a private firm in the city. Not only would it be quicker by air, they would also avoid the rebel roadblocks which had been set up on all the approach roads into Kondese. Moredi had arranged for them to land at a farm on the outskirts of Kondese which belonged to Matthew Okoye, a personal friend of the Mobutos. He was one of the wealthiest businessmen in the country and Ngune had wisely given strict instructions for him to be left alone when the rebels had set up camp in and around Kondese. He knew the value of keeping on the right side of the likes of Okoye. They were the future of Zimbala, irrespective of who was in power.

It had taken them a little over an hour to reach the private airstrip and after Tambese had landed the Cessna they were driven to the farm. Okoye and his wife had discreetly withdrawn after dinner, leaving them in the spacious lounge to discuss the operation. But there wasn't anything they could do until the plans of the prison compound were delivered to the farm. So Sabrina had gone out onto the porch for a breath of fresh air.

The door opened behind her.

She looked round and smiled at Graham when he emerged onto the porch. 'It's so peaceful out here. Look at the sky — not a cloud in sight, just stars as far as the eye can see. And you can even make out the lights of Kondese in the distance. Isn't it beautiful?'

'Yeah. It's at times like this that you can see where

Keats got his inspiration for "The Secret Rose", or Hopkins for "The Starlight Night".'

'You never cease to amaze me, Mike Graham,' she said, shaking her head in astonishment. 'I never realized you read poetry.'

He smiled then sat on the step beside her. 'I grew up with it. My mother has volumes of the stuff, all beautifully bound in leather — Keats, Wordsworth, Browning, Shelley, the lot. Every Friday night her parents would come round for a meal and afterwards I would have to read to them from one of the volumes. That went on until I was in my teens.'

'Do you still read poetry?'

'Only when I visit my mother at the retirement home in Santa Monica. She's still got all the volumes on a shelf in her room. Her eyesight's going so I always read her favourite poems to her.'

'That's the first time you've ever really spoken about your childhood, do you know that?'

'Now you know why,' he said with a wry grin. 'Imagine a ten-year-old in a suit and tie reading Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" to his grandparents. But she meant well, and that's what counts.'

Sabrina chuckled. 'I only wish I'd been there to see it.'

'You don't,' Graham retorted. 'She'd have got you reading as well.'

'I know you think the world of your mother. But you never talk much about your father. I don't mean to pry, but is there a reason for that?'

'I was never close to my father. We didn't have anything in common, that's why. He never once took zoo me to see the Giants or the Yankees play. I had to go with other kids' fathers until I was old enough to go by myself. It was really embarrassing. I started playing football at the age of eleven. He never once came to watch me play, never. My mother wasn't interested in football either, but I can't ever remember her missing a game when I played in the New York area.'

'Didn't he even go and watch you when you played for the Giants?'

'He died seven months before I joined them. I doubt he'd have come though. Why break the habit of a lifetime?'

The bitterness wasn't lost on her and she decided against pursuing the subject. But she was still amazed at his openness. A year ago he would have clammed up at the mere mention of his past. Was he beginning to break down those barriers he had built around himself since he had lost his family? Or was it the thought that he was finally going to get a showdown with the man he blamed for their murder? And what would happen if he did come face to face with Bernard? Would he kill him? Or would he hand him over to the authorities? She knew she couldn't answer that question. Or perhaps she just didn't want to…

'You guys look cosy down there,' said Laidlaw from the doorway.

'What the hell's that supposed to mean?' Graham demanded, scrambling to his feet.

'Just kidding,' Laidlaw said, winking at Sabrina.

Sabrina shook her head slowly to herself. What a jerk. But then he didn't know Graham like she did. Any suggestion of any impropriety between them zoi immediately put Graham on his guard. Some things hadn't changed.

'What do you want?' Graham snapped.

'Hey, chill out, man. I said I was only kidding.' Laidlaw looked from Sabrina to Graham. 'Look, I don't give a damn if you guys have got something going — '

Graham grabbed Laidlaw by the shirt and shoved him up against the wall. 'We work together, period. Understood?'

Laidlaw pulled free and smoothed down his shirt. 'The plans are here,' he said tersely then yanked open the door and disappeared back into the house.

'Why can't a man and woman work together without there always being some sort of sexual overtone attached to it?'

Sabrina nodded tight-lipped then followed Graham into the house.

Laidlaw walked up to Graham. 'I'm sorry, Mike. I was out of order.'

'Forget it,' Graham replied then crossed to where Tambese and Moredi were sitting on the sofa, the plans spread out across the table in front of them.

'Sit down,' Tambese invited, gesturing to the second sofa which they had positioned on the other side of the table.

Graham waited until they were all seated then looked past Sabrina at Laidlaw. 'What do you think?'

Laidlaw turned the plan around then looked up at Moredi. 'You say the perimeter fence is electrified?'

Moredi nodded. 'I don't know the voltage but it is lethal. A prisoner died trying to escape over it when I was being held there.'

'Escape was impossible,' Tambese told them. 'I heard stories of prisoners who had just arrived at the prison breaking free from the guards and throwing themselves against the fence to avoid being interrogated. That's how much the people feared the Security Police.'

'Where's the current controlled from?' Laidlaw asked.

Tambese tapped a square in the centre of the building. 'That's the control room. But it's situated underground. It only has one approach route which is protected by a metal grill. The door itself is made of reinforced steel and can only be activated from inside the control room itself. It's impregnable.'

'David was one of the officers who liberated Branco after the death of Alphonse Mobuto,' Moredi told them.

'Was that the first time you had ever been inside the prison?' Sabrina asked.

Tambese nodded. 'The army and the regular police were never allowed into Branco when it was run by the Security Police.'

'Wasn't the fence deactivated when the prison was liberated?' Graham asked.

'It was,' Tambese agreed. 'But it wouldn't have been very difficult to rig it up again.'

'So you're not sure whether it has been reactivated?' Sabrina said to Tambese.

'It has, according to our sources here in Kondese,' Tambese replied.

'Couldn't you instigate a power cut?' Graham asked.

Tambese shook his head. 'It wouldn't work, even if we could get into the power station. There's an emergency generator inside the compound.'

'What about the entrance?' Laidlaw asked without taking his eyes off the plans.

'One main gate — there,' Moredi replied, pointing it out.

'Operated from the control room,' Tambese added. 'There are also two watchtowers overlooking the gate. Each is manned by an armed guard. We wouldn't get within a hundred yards of the main gate without been seen.'

'What's it made of?' Laidlaw asked.

'Reinforced steel.'

Laidlaw chewed his lip thoughtfully as he continued to study the diagram.

'How many of Ngune's men are inside the prison compound?' Graham asked Tambese.

'We think about twenty-five.'

'What about the remainder of his troops?' Sabrina asked.

'I wish I knew,' Tambese replied with a sigh. 'I really do. There are pockets of them in and around Kondese manning roadblocks and patrolling the city centre. The resistance movement has been scouting the area ever since the rebels took Kondese but so far they've come up with nothing. It's uncanny. There must be a garrison around here somewhere but we just can't find it.'

'What if it's a bluff and Ngune doesn't have the manpower he claims to have?'

'That had crossed our minds, Mr Graham. But what use are tanks and aircraft without men? And we know he has both.'

'Why not destroy them?' Sabrina asked in surprise.

'Because they're in Chad. If our troops crossed the border into Chad we'd be certain to cause an international incident. And that's the last thing we need now that we're on the verge of being allowed back into the United Nations. We've lodged a formal protest with the Chadian government but they claim the tanks and planes are part of their own arsenal — which, in effect, they are. But we know from reliable sources inside the Chadian army that Ngune has struck a deal with their Government to use some of their tanks and planes in the event of an attempted coup d'etat, but only if Ngune provides the men. So at the moment, it's a stalemate.'

'Couldn't the garrison be in Chad?' Sabrina asked.

Tambese shook his head. 'No, we've checked. And anyway, the Chadian government's too smart for that. If they were giving a safe haven to Ngune's men it would provide us with the proof we need to discredit them.'

'That's it!' Laidlaw suddenly blurted out. 'The sewers.'

'What?' Sabrina said, turning to Laidlaw in surprise.

'That's how we get into the compound — through the sewers. There, that's the manhole,' Laidlaw said, pointing it out on the diagram.

'It'll be locked,' Graham said.

'So we cut through it with an oxyacetylene torch,' Laidlaw replied.

'The guards would see the flame from the watchtower,' Graham shot back.

Laidlaw smiled victoriously. 'No they wouldn't. According to the scale of this plan, the manhole cover can't be more than a couple of yards behind the staff quarters. The guards won't be able to see it from the watchtowers.'

'And what about the men in the staff quarters?' Sabrina asked.

'If we go in at about three tomorrow morning they'll be asleep.' Laidlaw looked at Tambese. 'You're sure the only guards on duty then will be the two in the watchtower? There won't be any guards patrolling the grounds?'

Tambese shook his head. 'There's no need. The watchtowers overlook the grounds.'

'OK, so let's say we do cut through the manhole cover,' Graham said, staring at the diagram. 'How do we get from the staff quarters to the cell block?'

'The guards will have to be neutralized first. All we'd need for that is a sniper rifle and a silencer.' Laidlaw looked across at Tambese again. 'Could you get them?'

'There's no need,' Sabrina said to Tambese. 'We can use the Uzis you brought from Habane. They've got silencers.'

'It's too risky,' Laidlaw replied. 'Those watchtowers are a good two-hundred yards away from the staff quarters. If we don't kill the guards with the first bullet, that would almost certainly compromise the operation. That's why we need a rifle with a telescopic-sight-attachment. It has to be a first-time kill.'

Til arrange to get them,' Tambese said.

'O K, so the guards have been neutralized,' Graham said. 'Then what?'

'Then we cross to the cell block and find Remy Mobuto,' Laidlaw replied matter-of-factly.

Graham ran his fingers through his hair, a puzzled expression on his face. 'Surely the two buildings are sectioned off from each other by a fence or a wall?'

'Not according to this,' Laidlaw replied, pointing to the two rectangles in the diagram.

'It isn't San Quentin, Mr Graham,' Moredi said softly then sat back and clasped his hands in his lap. 'There isn't a canteen where the prisoners can eat their meals. And there isn't an exercise yard where prisoners can walk about and stretch their legs. There are no rights at Branco. That's the first thing I learned when I got there.

'I was held there for eight weeks. And like all political prisoners at Branco, my hands and feet were manacled and I was put in a dark cell, four foot by eight foot, and the only time I ever left it was when I was taken down the corridor to a windowless room where my interrogators were waiting to torture me. And every night a spotlight in the corner of the cell would be switched on and I would be told to stand to attention. That happened almost every hour. And when I was too exhausted to get to my feet any more, one of them would come into the cell and beat me. If I was lucky, he would use a whip or a baton; if not, he used a club studded with sharpened nails or a length of barbed wire. And, of course, I was helpless to defend myself because my hands and feet were in chains. They didn't even provide a bucket for sanitary purposes, so you lay in your own excrement. Then, once every few days, when the smell became too much even for the guards to endure, they would come round with a hosepipe and spray down the cells.' Moredi suddenly smiled sadly at Graham. 'So you see now why there was no need to put up a fence or a wall between the two buildings. We weren't going anywhere.'

Graham nodded grimly but said nothing. Any words would have been hollow after what Moredi had told them.

'I can give you a rough layout of the cell block but I won't go back in there again,' Moredi said, wringing his hands together, 'not after what I went through.'

'We understand,' Sabrina said gently.

'Are we going with Mr Laidlaw's plan then?' Tambese asked after a lengthy silence.

'It's worth a try,' Graham replied. 'But we can't go in there blind. We'll have to check it out first.'

'Agreed,' Laidlaw replied then looked at Tambese again. 'Can you get a copy of the plans of the sewers for the area around the prison?'

'Not without arousing suspicion,' Tambese answered. 'I only managed to get a plan of Branco because I remembered there was one at our headquarters in Habane. Plans for the sewers will be kept at the city hall, and that's closed.'

'We need the plans,' Laidlaw said, looking at each face in turn. 'We can't do anything without them.'

'Which only leaves one option,' Graham concluded. 'Break into the city hall and get them.'

'We'd never get past the roadblocks,' Sabrina said.

'Added to which there's a curfew in the city from six at night to six in the morning,' Moredi told them.

'That only leaves us with one alternative. We'll have to bring in the resistance movement. I'll call Matthew Okoye. Excuse me,' Tambese said then got to his feet and walked to the door.

'Surely you can contact the resistance movement without involving Okoye?' Graham called out after him.

'Not really. He's their leader,' Tambese replied then left the room.

Simon Nhlapo scrambled behind the wheel of the ambulance and started the engine as his partner, Joe Vuli, jumped into the passenger seat beside him. He switched on the siren then sped down the driveway and swung the ambulance out into the deserted street. He had been a paramedic for eighteen years at the Kondese National Hospital. Well, that was its new name. It had been the Margaret Mobuto Hospital, named after Alphonse Mobuto's wife who had died four years after it was opened in i9yz. But Jamel Mobuto had ordered the name to be changed within days of his father's death — just as the Alphonse Mobuto Hospital became the Habane National Hospital.

Nhlapo wasn't a political man but, like many of the Swahilis in and around Kondese, he saw a future for Zimbala under Jamel Mobuto. That's why he couldn't understand why the government had let Ngune and his butchers take control of Kondese. He remembered well the days when Kondese was alive with activity at night. Now the streets were deserted, save for the patrolling gangs of Ngune's vigilantes who toured the city centre in search of anyone foolish enough to violate the curfew. Punishment was immediate execution. Even the police force had been disbanded by Massenga and now the only vehicles seen on the road after the curfew were those belonging to the besiegers, and they had to have special passes affixed to their windscreens — and, of course, the ambulances.

There had been an initial fear at the hospital that Ngune would install his own puppet doctors but he had assured the administrator that he had no intention of interfering with the running of the hospital, as long as the staff abided by his rules. Many did, out of fear; but others, like Vuli and himself, had joined the resistance movement as soon as the Security Police overran Kondese. It was the first time he had ever been involved in an underground movement. But he felt the time had come to make a stand against the brutality of Ngune and his Security Police. If Ngune seized power the country would again be in the hands of a corrupt dictator. Nothing would have changed. He had to be stopped. But Nhlapo also knew the penalty if he was ever caught as a resistance fighter. That had been spelled out clearly at their first rally. He would be taken to Branco where they would torture then execute him. Dozens had already died at the hands of Ngune's men since they returned to Kondese. It was as if they had never left. The rumours that the army were preparing to move in to liberate the city had been rife for the last three weeks. But so far, nothing. And the people of Kondese were becoming desperate…

He trod on the brake pedal as they reached the first of the numerous roadblocks that lined the city streets. It consisted of a sheet of rolled barbed wire that lay the width of the road. Four men stood beside it, all in jeans and T-shirts, and all armed with kalashnikov assault rifles. One of the men approached the driver's side of the ambulance, the kalashnikov clenched tightly in his right hand.

'Where are you going?' he demanded.

'There's been an accident on the M3,' Nhlapo replied. 'A car went off the road.'

The man nodded, having already received word of the call-out by the controller at the hospital. The ambulance was searched for any weapons or contraband that the crew may be trying to smuggle past the roadblock but nothing was found.

Satisfied, the man returned to the driver's window. 'You'll be given a free passage through to the last roadblock on the outskirts of the city.'

'I know the drill by now,' Nhlapo retorted tersely.

The man nodded to his colleagues and the barricade was pulled back until there was just enough room for the ambulance to get through. Nhlapo engaged the gears and sped off. They passed another four roadblocks, each time being waved through by an armed guard. They were stopped, as expected, at the last one on the edge of the city. Again the ambulance was searched before being allowed to continue.

Nhlapo drove the short distance to join the M3- It was eerie and deserted. The resistance movement had shot out most of the lights to give them the cover they had needed to launch a series of lightning strikes on rebel patrols in the area. The gutted remains of rebel vehicles on the side of the road were testament to the success of the mission. Over thirty rebels had been killed in the ambushes before Ngune pulled his men back to within the confines of the city. He had immediately reinforced the roadblocks on the edge of the city with both men and weapons to repel any attempt by the resistance movement to retake Kondese, but a succession of arrests and summary executions in the last fortnight had left the resistance movement disjointed and demoralized. They couldn't launch an offensive on Kondese without the backing of the government forces. And they seemed determined to wait for Ngune to make the first move…

Vuli pointed to a figure in the distance who was frantically waving a white handkerchief to attract their attention. Nhlapo switched off the siren as he neared the man then pulled over onto the side of the road, bringing the ambulance to a halt a few feet in front of him.

'Did you call the hospital?' Nhlapo asked after he had jumped out of the ambulance.

'Yes,' Tambese replied, pocketing the handkerchief.

'This is such a treacherous stretch of road,' Nhlapo said.

'Especially at night,' Tambese added.

'Or in the rain,' Vuli said, completing the password they had agreed with Okoye when he had called them earlier at the hospital. They didn't know Tambese's name and he didn't know theirs. It was a precaution in case any of them were arrested by the Security Police. That way the damage would be minimal.

'What's the plan?' Nhlapo asked.

'You get us past the roadblocks. That's all you need to know.'

'How many are you?'

'Three,' Tambese replied then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.

Laidlaw was the first to appear. He was carrying a doctor's black bag which Okoye's wife had lent him. She had a surgery in the city. Vuli gasped in shock when Graham and Sabrina emerged from the undergrowth behind him. Okoye's wife had spent over an hour making them up to look as though they had been involved in a car crash. Their faces and clothes were splattered with sheep's blood and both had discoloured 'bruises' on their faces which she had carefully shaded with an eyebrow pencil.

'It's make-up,' Tambese reassured Vuli and Nhlapo.

'It's very realistic,' said Vuli.

'That's the general idea,' Tambese told him. 'We have to get them through the roadblocks.'

Graham crossed to where Laidlaw was standing. 'You know what to do?'

Laidlaw bit back his anger and nodded. Take the car back to the farmhouse and wait for your call. I still say I could be of some use — '

'No!' Graham cut in quickly. 'We've been through this before, Russ. I need someone I can trust at the farmhouse to call New York in case something should go wrong.'

'Moredi's there,' Laidlaw shot back.

'He doesn't know Sabrina and I work for

UN A CO. You do. If you haven't heard from us by daybreak, call the number I gave you.'

'And speak to a guy called C.W. Yeah, I know.'

'Ready, Mr Graham?' Tambese asked.

Graham nodded.

Laidlaw handed the doctor's bag to Tambese then looked back at Graham. 'You watch yourself, you hear?'

'Yeah,' Graham muttered then walked over to the ambulance.

'What about this?' Sabrina asked, indicating the holdall she was carrying. It contained the three Berettas, three silenced Uzis, the spare ammunition clips and the holsters that Tambese had drawn from the barracks in Habane. Okoye had made the necessary arrangements to have the sniper rifle, silencer and blowtorch left for them near the city hall by a member of the resistance movement.

Graham looked at Tambese. 'Well, where do we put it?'

'We can't put it in the ambulance like that,' Tambese replied. 'They'd be sure to see it.'

'What do you suggest?' Sabrina asked.

Tambese clambered into the back of the ambulance. 'Pass me the holdall.'

Sabrina handed it to him. He unzipped it and tipped the contents out onto one of the stretcher beds. Then, pulling back the top sheets on both stretcher beds, he carefully laid the weapons, holsters and clips down the centre of the two mattresses before remaking the beds again.

'So we'll be lying on them?' Graham said.

Tambese nodded.

'It's the first place they'll look,' Graham shot back.

'Had you been locals, yes,' Tambese replied. 'But you're foreigners. And you're posing as journalists. Those things can make a lot of difference right now.'

Graham scrambled into the back of the ambulance and sat on one of the beds. 'Why should they make a difference?'

'Because I'll tell the rebels that you were attacked by government troops outside Kondese. They're sure to see the potential of a major publicity coup if they were to get you the best possible medical care. And that would mean giving the ambulance a free passage to the hospital. It would be too good an opportunity for them to miss.'

'And if they don't fall for it?' Graham asked.

'Then we're in trouble,' Tambese replied, reaching out a hand to help Sabrina into the back of the ambulance. He told Vuli in Swahili to leave all the talking to him. He also told him to knock on the glass partition when they neared the first of the roadblocks. Vuli nodded then closed the back doors and climbed back into the cab.

Nhlapo started up the engine then wiped a drop of sweat from his face. 'God help us if they find those guns.'

Vuli glanced at Nhlapo and shook his head slowly. 'Not even He could help us then.'

Nhlapo swallowed nervously and did a U-turn before heading back towards Kondese.

Vuli rapped loudly on the glass partition when the roadblock came into view. Nhlapo instinctively touched the brake pedal when one of the rebels stepped out into the road to wave down the ambulance. Vuli patted Nhlapo's arm reassuringly then reached for the clipboard on the dashboard. It contained details of the 'accident' which Vuli had copied down, almost word for word, from the summary Tambese had compiled before leaving the farmhouse. Ngune had insisted that the ambulance service make a report of any incident that took them beyond the roadblocks on the edge of the city. That was considered no-man's land by the rebels. It was certainly a major victory for the resistance movement. And it was only the beginning, Vuli told himself…

The ambulance stopped a few feet in front of the convoluted tangle of barbed wire spread across the road. A battle-scarred M4i Walker Bulldog tank stood in the shadows beside a looted corner shop. A man wearing a faded Adidas T-shirt sat on the turret, a kalashnikov rifle beside him. Vuli also noticed the front portion of a Ferret armoured car which was partially hidden up a sidestreet. He knew from a former soldier who was now with the resistance movement that both vehicles were obsolete, and there was a feeling that the M4is dotted about the city didn't have the necessary parts to be used in conflict. They were merely a bluff. But they were all well guarded and all attempts by the resistance movement to capture one had ended in failure.

The man who had flagged down the ambulance rapped on the passenger window, disturbing Vuli's thoughts. Vuli opened the window.

'Out, both of you,' the man ordered.

Vuli and Nhlapo climbed out and another rebel immediately set about checking for any weapons that may have been picked up when the ambulance was out of their jurisidiction.

'Report!' The man clicked his fingers and held out his hand towards Vuli. 'Give it to me.'

Vuli handed the clipboard to the man.

'Americans?' the man said, looking up at Vuli.

Vuli nodded. 'Journalists.'

'Open the back,' the man ordered.

Nhlapo walked round to the back of the ambulance and opened the doors. He had to check his surprise. Graham had an oxygen mask over his face and Sabrina, who lay with head lolled to one side, had a drip attached to her arm with a strip of plaster.

The man looked from Graham to Sabrina then met Tambese's cold stare. 'Who are you?'

'Dr Moka,' Tambese retorted. 'I live close to where their car left the road. I was the first on the scene.'

'They are Americans?'

'Journalists. Both from New York.'

'Are their injuries serious?'

Tambese nodded grimly. 'They were shot at by a government patrol. One of the bullets struck the woman. She was driving. She told me that much before she lost consciousness. It seems as if he struck his head on the windscreen when the car hit the tree. He's badly concussed. They both need urgent medical attention at the hospital.'

'After we have searched the ambulance,' came the ziy sharp reply as if the man felt his authority was being undermined in front of his colleagues.

'The woman is haemorrhaging,' Tambese snapped and indicated the bag of blood connected to the drip. 'She could die if she doesn't undergo surgery within the next hour. And if she does you can be sure I'll hold you personally responsible. Your Colonel Ngune would be crucified by the international press. I doubt he'd thank you for it, do you?'

A look of fear had spread across the man's face at the mention of Ngune. He looked at Sabrina then spoke in a whispered tone to his colleagues who were congregated around the back of the ambulance.

'What's the problem?' Tambese thundered. 'I need to get this woman to the hospital now!'

The man's eyes flickered around the inside of the ambulance then he snatched the clipboard from Vuli's hand and signed the accident report. Tambese sighed deeply. That was the clearance they needed.

'How many more roadblocks will we have to stop at before we reach the hospital?' Tambese asked, glancing at the man.

'You won't be stopped again,' came the reply.

'Thank you,' Tambese said. 'That might just make the difference between life and death for this woman.'

The man told Vuli to close the doors. Tambese slumped back in his chair as the doors slammed shut and wiped his hands over his face. Neither Sabrina nor Graham moved even though they had heard the doors close. The ambulance started up and the siren was switched on again as soon as it pulled away from the roadblock.

'We're clear,' Tambese said.

Graham immediately sat up and pulled the oxygen mask from his face. He winced as he massaged his spine. 'Jesus, my back's killing me.'

Sabrina peeled the plaster off her arm and grinned at Tambese. 'I don't know what you said to him, but you sure sounded mad as hell.'

'My mother died in the back of an ambulance,' Tambese said after a thoughtful pause. 'I guess I was just reliving those emotions.'

'I'm sorry,' Sabrina said apologetically.

'It was a long time ago,' Tambese replied.

'Have we got free passage into the city?' Graham asked, breaking the sudden silence.

'Clear all the way,' Tambese replied then wagged a finger at them. 'I told you they would fall for it.'

'What did you say to them?' Sabrina asked.

Tambese translated the gist of the conversation.

'Using Ngune's name seems to have done the trick,' Graham said when Tambese had finished.

'It certainly helped. His minions are terrified of him.'

'I can believe it,' Sabrina said grimly.

Vuli pulled back the glass partition and gave them a thumbs-up. 'Where do you want to be dropped off?' he asked Tambese in Swahili.

'Go to the hospital,' Tambese told him. 'We'll take it from there.'

Vuli nodded then closed the partition again.

'What about the ambulance men?' Sabrina asked. 'Won't Ngune take it out on them?'

'They'll go to ground after this. The resistance movement will have them smuggled out of Kondese.'

The ambulance slowed down and Tambese peered through the glass partition, his hands cupped on either side of his face.

'What is it?' Graham asked anxiously.

'We're nearing the hospital,' Tambese replied without looking round at him.

"Thank God for that. What now?'

'Get ready,' Tambese answered then pulled open the glass partition again. 'Go round the back,' he said to Nhlapo in Swahili. Til tell you when to stop.'

Nhlapo nodded as he swung the ambulance into the driveway. He switched off the siren. Graham and Sabrina discarded their blood-splattered clothes to reveal black jumpsuits. After tugging a black woollen hat over her head, Sabrina took a tube of camouflage cream from her pocket and squeezed a little onto her palm then tossed the tube to Graham. He rubbed the cream over his face and hands then offered the tube to Tambese who grinned good-humouredly and waved him away. Graham shrugged, poker-faced, and dropped it onto the bed.

Tambese stripped off to his black jumpsuit then peered through the partition again, watching for the line of refuse bins that Okoye had told him to use as a landmark to disembark. He knocked on the glass when they came into view and told Nhlapo to pull over. Graham handed out the weapons then divided the clips into three piles on the bed. They loaded their weapons and slipped the spare clips into the pouches on their belts. After bolstering his Beretta Tambese knocked lightly on the partition. Nhlapo peered out of the driver's window and gave Vuli the thumbs-up sign.

Vuli looked about furtively to make sure there wasn't anyone about then opened one of the doors and gestured to them to get out. Tambese ushered Graham and Sabrina out of the ambulance then jumped nimbly to the ground and Vuli immediately closed the back door again.

'Get rid of the clothes and wipe the ambulance down for fingerprints,' Tambese said to Vuli.

'No need, we're going to torch it anyway,' Vuli replied. 'Those were our orders.'

'Well, thanks for your help.'

'Good luck,' Vuli said with a quick smile then looked around again. 'Go on, a porter could come out here at any time.'

Tambese hauled himself over the low wall where Graham and Sabrina were already waiting for him. 'The city hall's a couple of hundred yards down the road,' he whispered. He looked the length of the deserted street then turned back to them. 'Ready?'

They both nodded then followed Tambese down the embankment to the pavement where he paused to listen for any approaching vehicles. Silence. He led them across the road then they ran, doubled over, to the nearest doorway. The city hall, which spanned the length of the adjacent block, was an ugly, oblong-shaped building dating back to the early nineteenth century when the country was still part of the French empire. Tambese was about to break cover again when they heard the sound of an approaching engine. They ducked into the doorway and lay flat on their stomachs, their Uzis held at the ready. A black Toyota pick-up drove past with two men in the front and a third in the back, his arms resting on the top of the cab. A Sterling sub-machine gun was slung over his shoulder. He held a wine bottle in his hand. The truck continued to the end of the road where the driver idled the engine for a few seconds while he decided which turn-off to take. Then he accelerated sharply and the tyres shrieked in protest as the truck pulled away and disappeared up a sidestreet.

Tambese scrambled to his feet and scanned the street before giving Graham and Sabrina a thumbs-up sign. They sprinted the hundred yards to the front of the city hall and were still trying to catch their breath when they heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Tambese pointed to a cluster of shrubs against the side of the building and they ducked down behind them only seconds before the truck came back into view.

The man in the back shouted something to the driver who pulled the jeep over and stopped in front of the city hall. The man got out and threw the empty wine bottle into the gutter. The driver shouted angrily at him as glass splinters peppered the side of the truck. The man grinned at the driver and held up his middle finger contemptuously then walked unsteadily towards the bushes.

Sabrina instinctively shrunk further away from the approaching figure and backed into someone's arm. Then she noticed that Graham, who was the closest to her, was crouched with both arms folded across his chest, cradling his Uzi. It hadn't been his arm. She turned her head very slowly, very reluctantly, and looked to see whose it was. A body was entangled in the bushes behind her. The face, which had been shot away at close range, was seething with hundreds of writhing, squirming maggots. She felt a scream rise in her throat but Graham clamped his hand roughly over her mouth before any noise could escape from her lips. He had seen the body when she backed into it and had anticipated her reaction. The man, who was urinating onto a nearby bush, didn't hear her muffled cry above his uneven whistling. When he finished he returned to the truck, still whistling to himself. The driver immediately started up the engine and pulled away from the kerb. Within seconds silence returned to the deserted street.

'You OK?' Graham asked, putting a hand lightly on her arm.

Sabrina nodded guiltily.

Tambese led them a short distance away from the body. It had been decided that he and Sabrina would break into the building while Graham checked the area for the nearest manhole cover. They would meet up again outside in twenty minutes' time.

'Down!' Sabrina said sharply as a pair of headlights swept into the street.

They ducked out of sight and moments later a jeep came into view. It sped past the city hall and shot through a red light before disappearing up a sidestreet.

'Is that all they do?' Graham asked, tentatively getting to his feet again.

Tambese nodded. 'It's very effective, as you've seen. You don't know when they're likely to appear. And if they're hunting resistance fighters, they'll drive without their lights on. But that won't happen around here.

The resistance movement confine their attacks to the outlying areas of the city.' He looked at Sabrina. 'Ready?'

'Ready,' she replied.

'Synchronize watches,' Tambese said. He waited until the second hand reached the twelve on his watch. 'Ten forty-two,'

'Check,' Graham said.

'Check,' Sabrina added.

'Twenty minutes,' Tambese said to Graham then disappeared round the side of the building.

Sabrina followed him and they kept low as they passed a succession of windows overlooking the spacious garden. The grass was now ankle-high and the beds riddled with weeds.

Tambese stopped beside a steel ladder which was bolted against the side of the building. He crouched down and looked behind a nearby bush for the holdall Okoye had said would be left there by the resistance movement. He unzipped it and checked the contents: a portable oxyacetylene blowpipe, insulated gloves, a canister of carbon dioxide, a De Lisle carbine, a torch and a length of coiled rope. He handed the torch to Sabrina then slung the rope over one shoulder, the Uzi over the other, and climbed up onto the flat roof. He surveyed the surrounding streets then beckoned to Sabrina who shouldered her Uzi and climbed to the top of the ladder where Tambese was waiting for her. She ignored his outstretched hand and jumped nimbly onto the roof.

'There's the skylight,' she said, pointing to the glass window in the centre of the roof.

Tambese crossed to it and, cupping his hands on either side of his face, peered through the glass.

'Well?' Sabrina prompted behind him.

'Matthew was right: it is some kind of a storeroom. There must be thousands of files down there.'

'What's the distance to the floor?'

'It's a drop of about thirty feet,' Tambese replied then removed the rope from his shoulder. 'This is forty foot. Well, I hope it is.'

'So do I,' Sabrina said and indicated the flagpole behind them. 'We'll need the extra few feet to tie it to that.'

Tambese unwound the rope and secured one end to the flagpole. He pulled sharply on the rope to test the strength of the pole. It was anchored firmly into the concrete. He looked around slowly. The streets were still deserted. He crouched down beside the skylight again. 'It shouldn't take me long to open it.'

Sabrina hooked her fingers under the frame and lifted it up.

'It was open?' Tambese said in amazement.

She held up a nail file. 'The wood's rotted over the years. It wasn't very difficult to release the catch.'

Tambese smiled then pulled back the skylight and dropped the rope through the opening. It fell to within a couple of feet of the floor. He held the rope out towards her. She slung her Uzi over her shoulder then abseiled down, landing silently on the floor below. Tambese followed and had almost reached the floor when he noticed that Sabrina was holding out her hand towards him. The gesture wasn't lost on him. And he knew she was right. She deserved to be treated as an equal, not as a woman in a man's world. He held up his hand to concede the point. She moved to the door and opened it fractionally. The corridor was deserted. She gave him a thumbs-up then turned back to watch the corridor through the crack in the door.

He pulled Okoye's map from his pocket and used it to get his bearings. He was surrounded by rows of shelves, all ladened with dusty, dog-eared files. They didn't interest him. What did were the dozens of drawers that lined the walls. They contained the blueprints of every structure ever built in and around Kondese in the last twenty years. Okoye's contact had said the blueprints for the city sewers would be stored under section 350–400. Tambese went to the nearest row of drawers to get his bearings and it came as a great relief to discover that each drawer was numbered in multiples of ten, and not in single units as he had feared. He quickly found the section he wanted and pulled open the drawer marked 350. The blueprints, which were rolled up and secured with elastic bands, lay in neat rows, and each had a white label attached to it, identifying it by number. He cursed under his breath. Without a code, he would have to unroll each one individually. When he took the first one out he noticed a sheet of paper stuck to the bottom of the drawer. He pushed aside the blueprints lying on top and found it contained the index to identify the numbers. He ran his fingers down the list then replaced the blueprint and closed the drawer. It wasn't in there.

'Someone's coming!' Sabrina hissed.

Tambese looked round sharply at her and gestured for her to close the door. She did as he said then took up a position at the side of the door, waiting. He unslung his Uzi and trained it on the door. He was certain they hadn't been seen from the street, and Okoye's contact had said that the alarms had been cut by the Security Police when they took control of the building, so how had they been detected? He quickly reassured himself that the guard's appearance could have nothing to do with them. What if he were going to another room? It was a long corridor.

Suddenly the door handle was pushed down from the outside. The door was locked, as it had been when they got there. Sabrina stiffened, the Uzi held inches from her face. She curled her finger around the trigger when she heard the sound of keys jangling outside the door. Moments later a key was pushed into the lock and the door opened slowly. But nobody entered. Then there was a distinctive metallic click above them followed by an order in Swahili for them to drop their weapons. Tambese shook his head at Sabrina when he saw her hands tighten on the Uzi. He turned slowly and looked up at the skylight. A man stood a couple of feet away from the window, the kalashnikov assault rifle in his hand trained on Tambese. He repeated his order. Tambese dropped the Uzi. A second man entered the room and quickly disarmed Sabrina.

'I could have taken him,' she hissed to Tambese.

'So could I, but at what price? The other one would have opened fire. And even if we had managed to take him out as well the gunfire would have alerted every patrol in the area. The last thing we need is a gunfight in the middle of the city centre.'

Sabrina remained silent. She knew he was right. She prayed that Graham had seen the man climb up onto the roof. At that moment he was their only chance. Tambese purposely spoke to the guard on the roof, hoping Graham would hear the voice. The guard grinned and pointed to the wall by the door.

'There's an infra-red sensor embedded in the wall by the door,' Tambese translated for Sabrina. 'That's how they detected us.'

'Okoye said nothing about any sensors,' Sabrina whispered back.

'They were put in when the Security Police got here. It was one way of cutting down on guards.'

The guard behind Tambese told him to be quiet. He looked up at his colleague and as they spoke Tambese's face became increasingly grim.

'What is it?' Sabrina hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

'They're deciding what to do with us. The one up there says we're curfew-breakers and should be shot now. The one behind us wants to call Branco and tell Ngune.'

Again Tambese was told to be quiet. The guard pulled the hat off Sabrina's head, spilling her hair onto her shoulders. He shouted something to his colleague and the two men laughed.

'What did they say?' she asked Tambese who had got to his feet again.

'You don't want to know,' he replied.

The butt of the kalashnikov slammed into Tambese's back again as punishment for speaking to her. He stumbled and fell to the floor. The guard aimed the kalashnikov at him, his finger curled around the trigger. Sabrina lashed out with her foot, catching him on the wrist. The kalashnikov spun from his hand. The guard above them swung his gun on Sabrina's back. Tambese knew he could never reach the Uzis before the guard pulled the trigger. He lunged at Sabrina and knocked her to the ground. The guard on the roof opened his mouth and a trickle of blood seeped down his chin then he fell through the skylight, landing with a deafening thud on the wooden floor. There were two bullet holes in his back. Tambese and the remaining guard both made a grab for the fallen kalashnikov. The guard got to it first. He lashed out with the butt and caught Tambese on the side of the face. Tambese reeled backwards like a groggy boxer who had been rocked by a punishing right hook. The guard swung the kalashnikov on Sabrina who was still reaching for her Uzi. Then he saw a movement above him. He was still raising the kalashnikov when Graham shot him twice in the chest. The bullets punched him back against the wall and he slid lifelessly to the floor.

Graham crouched at the edge of the skylight. 'You guys O K down there?'

Sabrina retrieved the Uzis then looked up at Graham. 'What kept you?'

'That's gratitude for you,' Graham retorted.

'Did you find the manhole?' Tambese asked, gingerly rubbing his cheek.

'Yeah, with great difficulty. The nearest is a couple of streets away. That's what took me so long. That, and dodging half a dozen patrols. You got the plans yet?'

'Not yet,' Tambese replied. 'But it won't take me long.'

Sabrina piled her hair up on her head and pulled the hat back onto her head. She shouldered her Uzi then climbed up to the roof. Tambese rifled through the remaining drawers until he found the blueprint. He stuffed it down the front of his shirt then he, too, climbed back up to the roof. Graham pulled up the rope and Sabrina closed the window over the skylight,

'How long before they'll be missed?' Sabrina asked, looking through the window at the bodies below them.

'The next shift comes on at six in the morning. We'll be long gone before then.'

Graham untied the rope from the flagpole then looped it over his shoulder and followed Tambese and Sabrina down the ladder.

'How far is the prison from here?' Sabrina asked once they had reached the ground.

'About three miles, due east,' Tambese replied then pulled the blueprint out from under his shirt and put it in the holdall. 'We'll look at it when we get to the sewers. At least there we won't be constantly on the lookout for rebel patrols.' He took the rope from Graham and replaced it in the holdall. 'Ready?'

Graham nodded then broke cover and sprinted a hundred yards to the safety of a low hedge at the bottom of the garden. He scanned the length of the deserted street then gestured for them to follow. They ran to the hedge and crouched down beside him. Graham was about to get to his feet when he heard the sound of an approaching car engine. They lay flat on the ground until it faded into the distance. Graham got to his haunches again and peered over the hedge. He nodded and ran to the gate, wincing as it creaked open. Then he beckoned them forward and led them across the road, up a narrow alley linking the two adjoining streets. He held up his hand as they reached the end of the alley and peered cautiously the length of the second street. It was deserted. He pointed to the manhole cover in the road fifty yards away from where they stood.

Tambese put the holdall on the ground and flexed his hand where the straps had dug into his flesh. He was about to pick it up again when Sabrina tugged his sleeve and tapped her chest with her finger. She picked it up. It was heavy. But then it would be, she reminded herself. Inside were the oxyacetylene tanks. Graham looked round at them then slipped out into the street, careful to keep close to the buildings in case they needed the cover of a doorway.

They were twenty yards from the manhole when the man emerged from the shadows of an alley on the other side of the street. Tambese immediately recognized him as the same man who had urinated in the bushes at the city hall. He had another bottle of liquor in his hand. It fell from his fingers the moment he saw them and he was still reaching for his shouldered kalashnikov when Tambese shot him. Graham sprinted over to him and felt for a pulse. He looked up and shook his head.

'I thought you said they never patrolled on foot,' Sabrina said to Tambese once they had crossed to the body.

'They don't,' Tambese replied grimly.

'Which means his buddies will be back for him,' Graham concluded.

'We've got to hide the body,' Sabrina said, looking around for a suitable place.

Graham snapped his fingers. 'The sewer.'

Til get the cover,' Tambese said, already running towards the manhole.

Graham wiped the sweat from his forehead then anxiously looked the length of the street, knowing the jeep could return at any time or another patrol could appear. He hooked his hands under the man's arms and Sabrina grabbed his legs and they carried him over to where Tambese was struggling to prise open the cover.

'Hurry up!' Graham hissed.

'I'm doing my best,' came the sharp riposte.

Graham laid the body on the ground and crouched down beside Tambese. Between them, they managed to lift the cover and lay it silently on the road. Sabrina dragged the body to the edge of the opening and Graham helped her tip it into the sewer. It struck the water with a loud splash. Then silence. Tambese peered into the darkness. There was a set of rungs embedded in the wall leading down to the sewer. He eased himself through the opening and descended to a ledge. The stench was awful. Graham went next.

Sabrina was about to follow when she remembered the holdall. She hurried over to the mouth of the alley but as she picked it up she heard the sound of an engine approaching at speed. She knew she would never reach the manhole in time and, looking across at

Graham, gestured for him to pull the cover back over the opening. He hauled it into place seconds before the truck turned into the street.

Sabrina melted into the darkness of the alley, the holdall in one hand, the Uzi in the other. She ducked behind a row of metal drums and clamped her hand over her face to block out the putrefying smell of the rubbish that surrounded her. The truck pulled up in front of the alley and the driver shouted the dead man's name. The second man, in the passenger seat, pointed to the broken bottle then threw up his arms in despair and climbed out of the truck. The driver tossed him a torch and Sabrina crouched down as the beam cut through the darkness. It hit the drum in front of her, casting a shadowy light on the ground in front of her.

Then she saw it: a large, bloated black rat gnawing at a piece of stale bread that lay inches away from her foot. She inhaled sharply, not daring to move as the beam continued to play across the drums. It reminded her vividly of the incident when, as a child, she had been inadvertently locked in a cellar and for the next two hours all she had heard in the darkness was the incessant scurrying of the rats around her. It had left her with a deep-rooted fear of all rodents which had almost killed her while on assignment in Yugoslavia. She had broken cover after discovering that a box she and Graham were crouched behind was infested with rats. Graham had saved her life by tackling her a split-second before a bullet would have hit her.

The man finally switched off the torch and walked back to the truck. He spoke briefly to the driver and climbed back into the passenger seat. The driver cursed angrily then started the engine and drove off. Sabrina waited until the engine had faded into the distance before getting to her feet. The sudden movement startled the rat and it disappeared through a hole in the wall behind her. She was sweating. Rats still frightened her, but at least now she was able to control her emotions. And that discipline had certainly saved her life. She picked up the holdall and moved cautiously to the entrance of the alley. The street was deserted. She hurried over to the manhole and knocked on the cover. It was pushed back and Graham's head appeared above the level of the road.

'You OK?' he asked anxiously.

She nodded and handed the holdall to him. He passed it on to Tambese then pressed himself against the wall to let Sabrina climb down to the ledge. She took the torch from the holdall and switched it on. The first object the beam picked out was a dead rat floating in the water.

'There's a lot of them down here,' Tambese said behind her.

'I can live with that,' she replied nonchalantly.

Graham smiled to himself then pulled the cover back into place.