Vixen 03 Part 17

"And what does your computer make of the fact that he coddles his Bantu workers?"

"I must admit that offering his blacks and coloreds shares of his farm profits is the gesture of a liberal. But there can be no denying Fawkes has built up the finest estate in northern Natal in an extremely short length of time. His people are loyal beyond belief. Woe to the radical who tries to stir up trouble on the Fawkes farm."

De Vaal was in the midst of formulating another pessimistic statement when there was a knock on the door. A young officer entered and came to attention.

"Forgive the interruption, Herr Minister, but Captain Fawkes has arrived."

"Show him in," De Vaal said.

Fawkes ducked his head under the low doorway and entered. De Vaal stared up at him in silence. He had not expected someone of such proportions, nor someone whose face was freshly cut in a dozen places. He extended his hand.

"Captain Fawkes, this is indeed a pleasure," De Vaal said in Afrikaans. "It was good of you to make the trip."

Fawkes crushed De Vaal's hand within his. "Sorry, sir, but I do not speak your language."

De Vaal smoothly slipped into English. "Forgive me," he said with a feint smile. "I forget that you Eng-ah-Scotsmen do not take to strange tongues."

"We're just dunderheaded, I guess."

"Pardon me for saying so, Captain, but you look as though you shaved with a branch of thorns."

"I encountered an ambush. b.l.o.o.d.y little devils broke my winds.h.i.+eld. I would have stopped at the local hospital, but I was running late for our meeting."

De Vaal took Fawkes by the arm and steered him to a chair. "I think we had better get a drink in you. Joris, will you do the honors? Captain Fawkes, this is Colonel Joris Zeegler, director of Internal South African Defence."

Zeegler nodded and held up a bottle. "I take it you prefer whisky, Captain?"

"Aye, that I do, Colonel."

De Vaal stepped over to the door and opened it. "Lieutenant Anders,

^inform Dr. Steedt that we have a patient for him. I suspect you will find

' him in his compartment, dozing." He closed the door and faced the

room. "First things first. Now then, Captain, while we await the good

doctor, perhaps you will be kind enough to provide us with a detailed

report of your ambush."

The doctor came and went, grumbling good-naturedly over the rhinoceros hide Fawkes called skin. Except for two wounds that called for three st.i.tches each, the doctor left the rest unbandaged. "Lucky for you those scratch marks don't match fingernail tracks, or you'd have a tough time explaining them to your wife," he joked as he snapped shut his bag.

"You're certain the attack was not organized?" Zeegler asked after the doctor departed.

"Not likely," Fawkes replied. "They were only ragged bush kids. G.o.d only knows what devil inspired them to go on a killing spree."

"I am afraid your run-in with bloodthirsty juveniles is not an isolated occurrence," De Vaal said softly.

Zeegler nodded in agreement. "Your story, Captain, fits the same crude modus operandi, if you will, of at least twelve other attacks in the last two months."

"If you want my opinion," Fawkes snorted, "that d.a.m.ned AAR is in back of it."

"Indirectly, the blame can be laid on the African Army of Revolution's doorstep." Zeegler drew on a pencil-thin cigar.

"Half the black boys between the ages of twelve to eighteen from here to Cape Town would give their t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es to become an AAR soldier," De Vaal injected. "You might call it a form of hero wors.h.i.+p."

"You have to give the devil his due," said Zeegler. "Hiram Lusana is every bit as shrewd a psychologist as he is a propagandist and a tactician."

"Aye," Fawkes said, looking over at the colonel. "I've heard a great deal about that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. How did he come to be leader of the AAR?"

"Self-imposed. He's an American black. Seems he made a vast sum of money in international drug smuggling. But wealth was not enough..He entertained dreams of power and grandeur. So he sold out his business to

a French syndicate and came to Africa and began organizing and equipping his own army of liberation."

"Seems a staggering undertaking for only one man," said Fawkes, "even a wealthy one."

"Not so staggering when you have help, and lots of it," Zeegler explained. "The Chinese supply his arms and the Vietnamese train his men. Fortunately, our security forces are able to keep them in a state of almost constant rout."

"But our government will surely fall if we are subjected to a prolonged economic blockade," added De Vaal. "Lusana's game plan is to fight a clean war by the book. No terrorism, no killing of innocent women and children. His forces thus far have attacked only military installations. Then, by playing benevolent savior, he can gain total moral and financial support from the United States, Europe, and the Third World powers. Once he achieves these goals he can exert his newly acquired influence to close off all our economic dealings with the outside world. Then the end of White South Africa is only a matter of weeks."

"Is there no way to contain Lusana?" asked Fawkes.

De Vaal's bushy eyebrows rose. "There is one possibility, provided you give it your blessing."

Fawkes stared at the Minister, his expression one of bewilderment. "I'm only a beached sailor and a farmer. I know nothing about insurgent warfare. Of what use can I be to the Ministry of Defence?"

De Vaal did not answer but simply pa.s.sed Fawkes a leather-bound book about the size of a thin bookkeeping ledger.

"It's called Operation Wild Rose."

The lights of Pembroke blinked on one by one in the evening dusk. A light rain had pelted the windows of the coach, leaving a myriad of streaks down the dust-coated gla.s.s. Fawkes's reading spectacles clung to his great nose and magnified his eyes as they darted back and forth over the pages without pause. He was so engrossed in what he was reading he absentmindedly chewed on the stem of a pipe that had long since burned out.

It was a few minutes past eight o'clock when he closed the cover of Operation Wild Rose. He sat there for a long moment as though in contemplation. Finally he shook his head tiredly.

"I pray to G.o.d it never comes to this," he said quietly.

"I share your sentiments," said De Vaal. "But the time is fast ap-

preaching when our backs will be against the wall and Operation Wild Rose may well be our final hope of escaping annihilation."

"I still fail to see what you gentlemen want from me."

"Merely your opinion, Captain," said Zeegler. "We've made feasibility studies of the plan and know what the computers say about its chances of success. We're hoping your years of experience will supply the pros and cons as judged by a human."

"I can tell you the scheme is d.a.m.n near impossible," said Fawkes. "And for my money you can add 'insane' as well. What you're proposing is terrorism at its worst."