food and the other necessities of life.' Bruce paused to light a
cigarette, and then went on talking as he exhaled.
'All around them the Baluba tribe is in open revolt, burning, raping and
killing indiscriminately. As yet they haven't attacked the town but it
won't be very long until they do.
Added to which there are rumours that rebel groups of Central
Congolese troops and of our own forces have formed themselves into bands
of heavily-armed shufta. They also are running amok through the northern
part of the territory.
Nobody knows for certain what is happening out there, but whatever it is
you can be sure it's not very pretty. We are going to fetch those people
in to safety.'
'Why don't the U.N. people send out a plane?' asked Andre.
'No landing field.'
'Helicopters?'
'Out of range.'
'For my money the bastards can stay there,' grunted Wally. 'If the
Balubas fancy a
little man steak, who are we to do them out of a meal? Every man's
entitled to eat and as long as it's not me they're eating, more power to
their teeth, say?' He placed his foot against Andre's back and
straightened his leg suddenly, throwing the Belgian off the bed on to
his knees.
'Go and get me a pretty.'
'There aren't any, Wally. I'll get you another drink.' Andre scrambled
to his feet and reached for Wally's empty glass, but Wally's hand
dropped on to his wrist.
'I said pretty, Andre, not drink.'
'I don't know where to find them, Wally.' Andre's voice was desperate.
'I don't know what to say
to them even.'
'You're being stupid, Bucko. I might have to break your arm.' Wally
twisted the wrist slowly. 'You know as well as I that the bar downstairs
is full of them. You know that, don't you?'
'But what do I say to them?' Andre's face was contorted with the pain of
his twisted wrist.
'Oh, for Christ's sake, you stupid bloody frog-eater - just go down and
flash a banknote. You don't have to say a dicky bird.'
'You're hurting me, Wally.'
'No? You're kidding!' Wally smiled at him, twisting harder, his slitty
eyes smoky from the liquor, and Bruce could see he was enjoying it. 'Are
you going, BUcko? Make up your mind -
get me a pretty or get yourself a broken arm
'All right, if that's what you want. I'll go. Please leave me, I'll go,'
mumbled Andre.
'That's what I want.' Wally released him, and he straightened up
massaging his wrist.
'See that she's clean and not too old. You hear me?'
'Yes, Wally.
