'Easier said than done.'

'He knows what he's doing. Take my word for it. Hiram Lusana will be sitting in the Prime Minister's office in Cape Town nine months from now.'

'He has a schedule?' Daggat asked incredulously.

'To the day.'

Slowly Daggat picked up the papers on the desk and shuffled them neatly into a stack.

'Pack your things.'

Felicia's neatly plucked brows raised. 'We're leaving Nairobi?'

'We're flying to Washington.'

She was taken aback by his sudden air of authority. 'Why should I return stateside with you?'

'You have nothing better to do. Besides, arriving home on the arm of a respected congressman after shacking for a year with a known radical revolutionary might go a long way in restoring your image in the eyes of your fans.'

Outwardly Felicia pouted. But Daggat's logic made sense. Her record sales had fallen off and calls from producers had taken a noticeable downward turn. It was time, she quickly deduced, to put her career back on its track.

'I'll be ready in half an hour,' she said.

Daggat nodded and smiled. An edge of excitement began to form inside him. If, as Felicia indicated, Lusana was the odds-on favorite to become South Africa's first black leader, Daggat, by championing a winning cause on Capitol Hill, could assure himself of immense congressional stature and voter respect. It was worth the gamble. And if he was careful, and chose his words and programs cleverly, he might… just might… stand a shot at the vice- presidency, the major stepping-stone to his ultimate goal.

24

Lusana brought his hand up to eye level and then snapped the rod forward with a deft wrist action. The small wad of cheese clung to the hook, plopped daintily into the river, and then sank out of sight. The fish were there. Lusana's instincts began to vibrate in anticipation. He stood thigh deep amid the shadows of the trees leaning over the bank and slowly reeled in the line.

On his eighth cast he had a strike, a hard, splashing strike that nearly tore the rod from his relaxed grip. He had hooked a tiger fish, an Old World relative of the ferocious piranha of the South American Amazon. He gave the fish its head and eased out more line. He had little choice; the rod was nearly bent double. Then, abruptly, before the battle had a chance to warm up, the tiger fish circled a sunken tree stump, broke the line, and escaped.

'I did not think it possible that anyone could entice a tiger fish with a bit of cheese,' said Colonel Jumana. He was sitting on the ground, his back resting against a tree. He held the envelope containing the brief outline of Operation Wild Rose in his hand.

'The bait is irrelevant if the prey is hungry,' said Lusana. He waded back to shore and began tying a new leader to his line.

Jumana rolled on his side and scanned the landscape to see if Lusana's security guards were properly stationed and alert. It was a wasted gesture. No soldiers served with greater fervor and loyalty. They were lean and hard, picked by Lusana personally, not so much for their fearlessness and rugged physiques as for their intelligence. They stood poised in the underbrush, their weapons held in determined, steady hands.

Lusana turned to resume his casting. 'What do you make of it?' he asked.

Jumana stared at the envelope and twisted his face in a skeptical expression.

'A rip-off. A two-million-dollar rip-off.'

'You don't buy it, then?'

'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 deception, 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.'

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

Jumana pushed ahead. 'A thousand hitand-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 coldly. '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 Fawkesfarm 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.

Machita remained silent. waiting.

'I intend to pay Emma his thirty pieces of silver for the rest of the plan,' Lusana finally said.

Jumana raged. 'No, it is a fraud! Even you, my General, are not entitled to throw our army's funds away stupidly.'

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