'I suppose they do,' Fulton answered. If Wahab understood that Buckwheat had just said that he was not among those who preferred nonviolent and ineffective solutions, the African gave no sign. He did, however, think, And when I pinned general's insignia on you, if I could, I wonder if you might lead us in a war to free the slaves? That would be something. Or to create a country from scraps? It always takes a foreigner to do that, someone not part of or beholden to a clan. When this is all over, you, and I, and Khalid, are going to have a long, long talk.
With a clap of hands, the auctioneer indicated that bidding was over. He pointed toward the group of whites who had been successful in outbidding the poor locals and shoved the slave lightly in their direction. The whites made a great show of huddling around the boy, in the guise of protection, and a greater one of striking off his manacles. One of their number took pictures for posterity's sake or, more likely, to feature in pamphlets designed to raise money. As the whites led the boy off, another slave, female this time and considerably younger than the boy, was mounted on the auction block.
'Come on,' Fulton said, standing up. 'If I don't get away from here, I'm going to kill somebody.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It is very reassuring, when confronted by an
approaching enemy tank, to know that across one's
shoulder is the most modern shoulder fired rocket
in existence; or that the man a yard or two
away is diligently tracking the tank through the sight
of a MILAN or TOW missile . . . But there are
times when none of these comforts are within reach,
and one has to do the best one can with what is
available, and that may not be much.
-Ian Hogg, 'Tank Killing'
D-73, Assembly Area Alpha-Base Camp, Amazonia, Brazil
FitzMarcach's face said 'doom.' First Sergeant George shook his head, doubtfully, as Reilly's finger traced across the map. 'They'll murder us, boss,' George said. 'There's no cover, either getting there or once we are there. We'd be- '
At Lana's knock on the tent pole, Reilly, his exec, and his first shirt both looked up from the map they'd been studying. The diffuse jungle light was still bright enough, in comparison to the tent, to strain the eyes. This caused the Israeli woman to appear more of an outline than a person. Not that it isn't a nice outline, Reilly thought, then mentally added, After the mission, asshole. There'll be time, opportunity, and rightness, then.
There were other outlines, much less distinct, behind Mendes. Reilly thought they were the two South Africans, standing behind her. He repressed the distaste he felt about those two, primarily because they were reasonably discreet about their status and were, in fact, pretty damned good armored car mechanics. Good troops, as a matter of fact. Not their fault, what they are. Then again, not my fault if it makes my skin crawl, either. And if being together helps them push away the solitary nature of life, who am I to criticize?
'Come on in,' he said, flattening the map down on the field table between himself and George. 'Have a seat . . . err . . . seats,' he amended, when his eyes had adjusted well enough to make out Viljoen and Dumisani in detail. Behind them, he saw, were the German, Nagy. and the two Brits, Trim and Babcock.
Aha, the foreigners' union, Reilly thought. Well, why not? They're a better mirror than most.
Mendes went right to the point. 'We've been talking it up to your men. But it's not working.'
'That's not exactly right, baas,' Dumisani corrected. 'It's working with about two thirds of them, some, anyway. Others are neutral. But there's a smaller number, maybe half a dozen, who are listening to one of them-'
'Adkinson,' Viljoen said. 'I've seen the type before; chip on his shoulder, big head, tiny brain. Not competent to be in charge of anything big and resentful as hell of someone who is. Nasty toxic bastard. He's even starting to infect your infantry and most of those guys are devoted to you personally. Why the hell did you take him on, anyway? Leave aside that he loathes Dumi and me because we're gay . . . or maybe because we're foreign . . . or maybe both. You never should have hired him.'
Reilly glanced quickly and guiltily at George, who said, 'His record was clean and even pretty good. And he was available. There wasn't any obvious reason for the boss not to take him on. And, yes, I knew he's been a source-okay, okay, the source-of trouble for the last few days.'
'Well,' Viljoen said, 'you would have been better off if he'd been unavailable.'
'What's his beef?' Reilly asked.
Viljoen shook his head, not with confusion or doubt but with disgust. 'He'll claim he's only concerned about the tanks and the implicit violation of the contract here. It's bullshit; if it hadn't been tanks, it would have been something else. He's just that type.'
'Dani is understating the man's abilities,' Dumisani said. 'He's actually not stupid. He wouldn't be so dangerous if he were. He's fairly clever, in fact, clever enough to hide what he's doing behind care and concern and a sort of bizarre notion of professionalism.'
Reilly looked at George. 'Why hasn't the sergeants' mess taken care of it?'
The first sergeant chewed at his lip a moment before answering. Rocking his head from side to side, he said, 'They're waiting to hear from you. Frankly, they're scared, Boss, scared enough that they're not sure whether to beat Adkinson's ass or join him in a mutiny. You have to talk to them.'
Reilly sighed, then brushed fingers through somewhat thinning hair. 'Among my many other military failings, Top,' he admitted, 'is a vast inability to bullshit people. I haven't talked to them about it because I don't have an answer to the problem yet.' His finger indicated the map. 'None of the options are good. The more I think about them the less good they seem.
'Suppose we hit the tank compound first. Okay we can probably wreck that tank formation. But the more I think about it, the more certain I am that everyone in that village will scatter to the bush and we'll fail the mission. They're going to hear the shooting, after all; the compound's not that far from the village.
'Stauer's already said we can't just take the town and evac everybody by air. He doesn't think we can do it in time even if he gave us the air. Again, the more I think about it, the more I'm inclined to agree.
'I don't think a few light aircraft can do it alone and I don't think I can afford to split our force up either, even
