'Do what you're told, don't argue, damn it.' They were within twenty

feet of the car now, and he told her, 'Now, go, fast as you can.' She

darted away, reaching the high side of Miss Wobbly before any of the

Gallas could intervene and she went up it with a single agile bound.

'Close down,' Jake shouted after her, and felt a quick lift of relief

as the hatch clanged shut. The ( gal las growled like the wolf-pack

denied its prey and they swarmed forward, pressing hard and surrounding

the car.

Jake fired a single shot in the air, and Ras Kullah screamed a command.

The Gallas drew back fractionally and fell into a sullen silence.

'Vicky, can you hear me?' Jake called, as he shepherded the

Italian prisoners close in against the hull.

Her voice was muffled and remote from behind the steel plate as she

acknowledged.

'The rear doors,' he told her urgently. 'Get them open but not before

I tell you.' He pushed the Italians around towards the rear of the

car, but it was slow work, for they were confused and stupid with

terror.

Now, 'Jake shouted and knocked impatiently against the hull with the

pistol. The lock grated and the doors swung outwards, and came up

against the packed bodies outside.

'Goddamn it,' growled Jake, an got his shoulder to one leaf of the

door. He shoved it open, knocking down two Of the closest Gallas and

in the same movement boosted one of the Italians through the opening

into the dark interior of the car. In a panicky scramble, the other

two followed him and Jake swung the door closed on them and put his

back flat against it, and heard the bolts shot closed on the inside,

facing the hating dark faces, and the surging press of their hundreds

of bodies. Voices were raised at the rear of the crowd and violence

was seconds away they had seen most of their prey escape, and it needed

little more to trigger the mob reflex.

Jake found he was panting as though he had run a long way, and his

heart pounded, so that he could feel it jump against his rib cage but

he held Ras Kullah, changing his grip from the pudgy upper arm to the

thick wiry bush of his hair, twining his fingers deeply into the

stiff,

dark halo at the back of his skull and twisting the head so that Ras

Kullah faced his men. With the other hand Jake thrust the pistol

deeply into the aperture of the man's ear hole

'Speak to them, sweet lips He made his voice vicious and menacing.

'Otherwise I'm going to push this piece right out through the other

ear.' Ras Kullah understood the tone, if not the words, and he gabbled

out a few hysterical words Of Amharic; the front warriors drew back a

pace and Jake slid slowly along the hull, keeping his back to the steel

and Ras Kullah pinned helplessly by his hair to cover his front. The

crowd moved with them, keeping station with them, their faces glowering

in the moonlight, cruel and angry, balancing critically on the pinnacle

of violence. A voice rang out from the darkness, an authoritative

voice urging action, the crowd growled, and Ras Kullah whimpered in

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