'And Admiral Keyter.' 'Beauty!' Sean nodded. 'If you get the boats, see if you can also get permission for a dozen or so boat-handlers to volunteer for a little extra-curricular fun and games. Those naval commandos are hot babies, and they will fall over themselves for a chance at a good barney. Play up the fact that it's an ANC training base that we are going to hose down and that we'll be doing them a good turn.' 'I also know the minister. I will go with Bella to see him,' Centaine agreed. 'I guarantee you all the special equipment you need. just give me a list, Sean.' 'I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning.' 'What about weapons - and men?' 'Scouts,' Sean told them. 'They don't come any better. I trained them myself. I'll need about twenty men. I know exactly who I want. I'll talk to Roland Ballantyneright away. Things are pretty quiet up there in Rhodesia at the moment, the rainy season. He'll let me have them. I might have to break one of his legs, but he'll let me have them. They'll need a couple of days of boat training, but they'll be ready to go by the end of next week.' He looked across at Isabella. 'It all depends on you now, Bella. You are our hunting dog. Lead us to them, lass.'
Eleven days after she sent the Red Rose coded confirmation that Capricorn Chenacals had successfully tested Cyndex 25, Isabella received permission and instructions for a visit to Nicholas. She was instructed to take the South African Airways flight to London that refuelled in Kinshasa on the Congo river and to disembark at this stop-over instead of continuing on to London.
She would be met at Kinshasa airport.
'It's looking good.' Sean was jubilant as he placed his finger on the map.
'Here's Kinshasa. It's within three or four hundred kilometres of the expected target area. They are going to pick you up on the doorstep, not the roundabout route via, Nairobi and Lusaka that they sent you on last time.' He looked across at Isabella. 'So they want you to take next Friday's flight? If it works out, that means you will probably be in position on Saturday, or Sunday at the very latest. We will sail from Walvis Bay in Lancer just as soon as I can get up there. The boys have finished their training, and all the equipment is on board Lancer. They have been sitting around doing nothing for almost a week - they'll be glad to be on their way.' He studied the map and then punched his calculator. 'We can be in position one hundred nautical miles off the mouth of the Congo river by Monday the twelfth. How does that suit you, Garry?' Garry stood up and went to the map. 'I'll be waiting with the Lear at Windhoek Airport - here. I will make my first fly-over on the night of Monday the twelfth. I'll have to head out to sea at least five hundred miles before I can turn back. That's the estimated range of the Cuban radar net in southern Angola. Five hundred miles is well beyond the operational range of the Mig squadron at Lubango.' He touched the Cuban base on the map. 'All right, then I'll hit the coast at the mouth of the Congo here and fly south down the coast until I pick up the signal of Bella's transponder.' 'Hold on, Garry,' Shasa intervened. 'How's that working out?' 'The boys at Courtney Communications have done a damn fine job in the short time they had available.' He opened his brief-case. 'This is itp 'A bicycle pump?' Shasa asked.
'Apparently Nicky is a soccer star. He asked Bella to bring him a new ball, and he complained that they had to keep pumping his old ball. The pump is a natural accessory to go with the ball. It should arouse no suspicion. This one is in perfect working order.' He demonstrated a few strokes of the pump, and the air hissed out in a satisfactory manner.
'The transponder is fitted into the handle of the pump. It has a thirty-day battery life. It is activated simply by twisting the handle like this.' He showed them. 'There is one drawback. We have had to make the transponder small enough to fit into the handle, and in the process we have been forced to reduce the power of the signal. It has a range of less than twelve kilometres, even with the very sensitive antenna that we have fitted into the Lear. I'll have to fly in that close before I pick up the signal.' 'What about Cuban fighters in the north?' Shasa asked anxiously.
'According to South African intelligence, the nearest squadron is based at Saurimo. I will make one quick run down the coast. As soon as I pick up Bella's signal, I'll head back out to sea. I've worked it out on paper; even if Cuban radar picks me up as I enter Angolan airspace and they immediately scramble a flight of Migs from Saurimo, I should be able to turn out and run for it before they can catch me.' 'What about SAMs?' Shasa persisted.
'Intelligence reports the Cuban SAM regiments are all in the south.' 'And if Intelligence is wrong?' 'Come on, Pater! Sean's running a hell of a lot more risk than I am.' 'This kind of thing is Sean's job, and he has not got a wife and a flock of kids.' 'Do we want to get Nicky out - or what?' Garry turned his back on his father, ending the exchange. 'All right, where was I? Yes, I pick up Bella's signal. I turn out to sea and make radio contact with Lancer as she lies off the Congo mouth. I give them the fix on the base, and then I just come on home.'
'I rather think,' Shasa drawled nonchalantly, 'that I'll go along with you for the ride, Garry!' 'Come on, Pater, you're Battle of Britain vintage. Act your age.' 'I taught you to fly, my boy, and I can still fly circles around you any day of the week.' Garry glanced across at Nana for support. Her expression was stony. He threw his hands in the air and began to grin.
'Welcome aboard, Skipper,' he acquiesced.
'Goodbye, Nana.' Isabella hugged the old lady with a sudden despairing strength. 'Pray for us.' 'You just bring my great-grandson here to me, missy. He and I, have got a lot of catching up to do.' Isabella turned to her father. 'I love you, Daddy.' 'Not as much as I love you.' 'I have been so stupid. I should have trusted you. I should have come to you right in the beginning.' She gulped. 'I've done terrible things, Daddy.
Things I haven't told you about yet. I wonder if you'll ever be able to forgive lne.$ 'You are my girl.' His voice was husky. 'My very special, my only girl.
Come back safely - and bring your baby with YOU- ) She kissed him and held him hard. Then she whirled and almost ran through the international departures gate of Jan Smuts Airport.
Centaine and Shasa stood staring after her long after she had disappeared.
Overhead the airport loudspeaker system was already calling her flight.
'This is the final call for all passengers travelling on the South African Airways SA 1e to Kinshasa and London.' Centaine turned away and took Shasa's arm. She limped heavily on her stick.
Her leg always seemed to get worse when she was worried or under unusual strain.
The chauffeur had the car parked at the main entrance, although one of the traffic constables was trying to move him on. Shasa settled Centaine in the back seat and then went round to the other door and climbed in beside her.
'There is something we haven't talked about yet.' Centaine took his hand.
'Yes,' Shasa agreed. 'I know what you are going to ask. What have they extorted from Bella? What price have they made her pay?' 'She's been working for them for years, ever since the birth of the child.
That is obvious now.' 'I don't want to think about it,' Shasa sighed. 'But I know we'll have to face it, sooner or later. This bastard who has tied her up is a general in the KGB - so we know who Bella's masters are.' 'Shasa.' Centaine hesitated, and then her voice firmed. 'You recall the Skylight scandal?' 'I'll never forget it.' 'There was a leak - a traitor,' Centaine pressed on doggedly.
'Bella knew nothing about Skylight. I was very careful to keep her out of it,' Shasa said hotly.
'Do you remember the Israeli nuclear scientist who came down to Dragon's Fountain? What was his name - Aaron somebody? Bella had a little fling with him. You told me that her name was in the security register at Pelindaba.
She spent the night with him.' 'Mother, you aren't suggesting... F Shasa broke off. 'My God, do you realize what information she has had access to over the years? As a senator, and as my assistant, most of the sensitive Armscor projects have passed over her deskv 'The Cyndex project at Capricorn,' Centaine nodded. 'She was at the tests only a few weeks back. Why is she being allowed to see Nicholas now? Has she given them some special piece of information, do you think?' They were silent for a long time, and then Shasa asked softly: 'Where does loyalty to the family and to one of our 5oe children end - and loyalty and patriotic duty to our country begin?' 'I think that you and- I will have to face that question very soon,' she sighed. 'But let's see this other business through first.'
Lancer was tied up at the hospital jetty alongside the Courtney canning factory in Walvis Bay. She was a 250400t stern trawler but she had the sleek lines of a modern cruise liner. She had been built to work in any fishery in any ocean, to get there fast, stay at sea for months at a time and then to get back to port just as fast.
Sean stood on the jetty and looked her over. He did not like her bright yellow paintwork; it was much too visible. On the other hand, her stem chute would make for easy launching and recovery of the landing- boats.
Anyway, it was much too late to do anything about the paintwork now, he decided.
Half the Scouts were lining the rail of the trawler, and as soon as they recognized him they launched into a chorus of 'Why Was He Born So Beautifulf.
Sean gave them the finger. 'No goddam respect,' he lamented, and ran up the gangway. They were delighted to see him and crowded around him to shake his hand. Much of their enthusiasm was a symptom of boredom; for these highly trained fighting men a week of inactivity had been almost insupportable.
They were all dressed like trawlermen in worn and faded jeans, tattered woollen jerseys and
