Vixen 03 (Dirk Pitt 5)

"No, sir. Frankly, I do not." Jumana rose to his feet and brushed off his combat uniform. "I think this Emma has fed Major Machita cheap bits and pieces as a buildup for the big score." He shook his head. "This report tells us nothing. It only indicates that the whites are going to launch a major terrorist strike somewhere in the world with a group of blacks posing as AAR followers. The South Africans are not so stupid as to risk international repercussions on such an absurd ploy."

Lusana cast his line. "But suppose-just suppose-Prime Minister Koertsmann has seen the handwriting on the wall. He might be tempted to take a desperate gamble, a last throw of the dice."

"But how?" asked Jumana. "Where?"

"The answers to those questions, my friend, come only with two million Yankee dollars."

"I still only see this Operation Wild Rose as a swindle."

"Actually, the scheme smacks of genius," Lusana continued. "If the strike involved heavy casualties, the nation that was the victim would then be provoked into turning their sympathies away from our cause and voting arms and aid for Koertsmann's government."

"The questions are unending," said Jumana. "What nation is singled out as the target?"

"The United States is my guess."

Jumana threw the envelope to the ground. "Ignore this stupid decep-tion, my General. Put the money to better use. Heed my proposal for a series of raids to throw fear into the hearts of the whites."

34

Jumana was met with a steely stare. "You know my feelings on butchery."

Jumana pushed ahead. "A thousand hit-and-run assaults on cities, villages, and farms, from one end of the country to the other, would put us in Pretoria by Christmas."

"We will continue to conduct a sophisticated war," Lusana said cold-ly. "We will not act like primitive rabble."

"In Africa it is often necessary to drive the people with an iron hand. They seldom know what is best for them."

"Tell me, Colonel; I'm always willing to learn: who knows what's best for the African people?"

Jumana's face purpled with controlled anger. "Africans know what is best for Africans."

Lusana ignored the slur against his American blood. He could sense the impulses swirling in Jumana: the hatred of all things foreign; the driving ambition and the newly discovered luxury of power mingled with a distrust of modern ways; an almost childlike acceptance of bloodthirsty savagery. Lusana began to wonder if he hadn't made an enormous error in appointing Jumana to a high level of command.

Before Lusana could focus on the problems that might arise between them, the soft padding sound of feet emanated from beyond the lip of the riverbank.

The security guards tensed

and then relaxed as Major Machita dog-trotted down the path into view. He came to a halt in front of Lusana and saluted.

"One of my agents has just arrived from Pretoria with Emma's report on the Fawkes-farm raid."

"What did he uncover?"

"Emma says he was unable to find evidence the Defence Forces had a hand in it."

Lusana looked thoughtful. "So it's back to the opening play."

"It seems incredible that a force can murder nearly fifty people and go unidentified," said Machita.

"Could Emma have lied?"

"Possibly. But he would have no reason for doing so."

Lusana did not answer. He turned his attention back to the fish. His line whispered over the running water. Machita looked questioningly at Jumana, but the colonel avoided his gaze. Machita stood there confused for a moment, wondering what had caused the atmosphere of tension that hovered over his two superiors. After a long uneasy silence he nodded at the envelope.

"You've reached a decision concerning Operation Wild Rose, General?"

"I have," Lusana answered as he reeled the line in.