Hyena Dawn (36 page)

‘
I keep hearing rumours. Evidently there is tight security at the airfield, and troop transporters fly in every night. Beira is quiet, but outside the area is crawling with Russians. I do not know what they are planning, but be careful.’

Rayne pulled away, prising himself from Fernandes’ grip.

‘
Be careful, Mr Brand.’

Rayne drove out of Beira very slowly to the rendezvous with Mick and Larry. He approached the road-block he had passed through the day before, and the guard, who recognised him, waved him through without bothering to check the car. He kept on the main road now, moving closer and closer to the agreed pick-up point and keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror to make sure he had not been followed.

After half an hour of driving, he was beginning to get worried. Perhaps Mick and Larry were on the wrong road? He wouldn’t have time to search for them. Just as he was beginning to feel uneasy, a man jumped in front of the car, his face blacked and a riot-pump shotgun in his hands. Rayne slammed his foot hard on the brake and, as the car rolled to a standstill, a second man appeared next to the car door, pointing an assault rifle directly at Rayne’s head.

The barrel was not dropped until Larry Preston was one hundred per cent sure it was Rayne.

‘
What if it hadn’t been me, Larry?’ Rayne got out of the car breathing an immense sigh of relief.

‘
Then we would have had to dispose of you, sir.’

Rayne drove the car into the yard behind the shop and closed the gates quickly. The security was perfect - no one could see in from the road. He went quickly round to the back of the car, and at his touch the boot lid sprang back to reveal the two bodies. He dragged them out one after the other, and pushed them both into the shower at the back of the shop. Then he turned the cold water on hard.

After a few minutes they both started to come round. Rayne pulled Larry to his feet, giving him a couple of slaps on the face. If he’d taken much longer at the road-block they might both have died.

‘
My God . . .’

‘
Are you all right, Larry?’

‘
The heat was incredible. We couldn’t breathe. It took everything I’d got to stop myself banging on the metal for you to let us out. Mick was out long before I was. I hope the poor bastard’s OK.’

In reply Mick staggered to his feet and lifted his face into the heavy spray of cold water. Then he turned to Rayne.

‘
I thought I was dying. Thank God the bastard didn’t open the boot - we wouldn’t have been able to do a bloody thing except breathe. We should have cut a couple of holes in the bodywork of the boot before we started off.’

‘
Mick, I had no idea we were going to be held up for so long.’

‘
Was the guy grilling you?’

‘
No. He ordered me to stop while the Russian General in charge of Beira came tearing up the road. If I’d tried to push on, the guard would have got aggressive. There was bugger-all I could do.’

Larry and Mick were in reasonable shape after another ten minutes. Rayne had asked for tough men and he’d certainly got them. He led both of them into the main section of the old shop, where the windows had been blanked out with white paint.

‘
This used to be a supermarket, it’s owned by the Portuguese who runs the hotel. It’s completely private and you won’t be bothered by anyone. As you can see, the front window gives an excellent view of the bank we’re going to attack, and very shortly you’ll be able to watch us going in to make our first contact with the manager. Later, you’ll take over from Guy and me on the hotel roof where we’re keeping watch round the clock - but I don’t want you up there until you’ve completely recovered from this morning’s ordeal.’

A couple of days cooped up in the shop, Rayne thought to himself, and they’d be thirsting for action.

‘
I’ll get you plenty of food in town, and I’ll bring it back this afternoon. I haven’t had the electricity turned on in here because I don’t want anyone getting suspicious, so I’ll get you a paraffin stove to cook on. Make absolutely sure no one gets even a glimpse of you - the whole town is simply crawling with Russians.’

General Vorotnikov stormed out of the storeroom. He had never come across such gross incompetence in his life. Outside, he screamed out a series of commands, and moments later two guards came up, hauling the quartermaster by his arms. The man was white with fear.

‘
So. You made a mistake?’ It was more of a threat than a question.

‘
General, I ordered the assault rifles myself, they must be here.’

‘
Well, you fool, they’re not.’

Vorotnikov stormed back into the storeroom and emerged some minutes later with a tom piece of paper in his hands. He thrust it in front of the quartermaster.

‘
What is this, idiot?’

‘
That is your order for assault rifles, sir.’

‘
Why didn’t you obey it?’

‘
Sir, in all reasonableness, I don’t think I am going to find those weapons for you.’

Vorotnikov walked angrily away from the quartermaster towards the control tower of the airport. He needed those rifles, he had promised them to ZANLA for the assault on Salisbury. Someone would have to get them for him.

In the ground floor room of the control tower, the commander of the airport stood trembling before him.

‘
Conrad, you were the fool who employed the quartermaster, now you sort this out. If this operation fails I shall see that your name is directly linked to the failure. You realise what that will do to your career?’

‘
Yes, sir.’ Conrad swallowed hard. ‘You shall have your rifles.’ General Vorotnikov turned on his heels without saying anything more and strode back to his car.

Inside, the bank was no different from any other - a large hall lined with frosted glass through which, at regular intervals, the tellers’ faces leered at prospective customers. The parquet floor shone from years of polishing and the brass rails that guided customers to the counter gleamed aggressively. They were told to wait for the manager. Perhaps, thought Rayne, John Fry had been lying, and no prior contact with the bank had been made at all.

‘
Mr Brand. Mr Dubois. My sincere apologies!’

The voice boomed across the length of the hall, causing everyone to turn round. The manager was tall and commanding in his dark suit. Though he looked little more than thirty-five, he nevertheless gave an impression of pomposity. They shook hands and he smiled at them.

‘
Please, gentlemen, let us go to my office. I apologise for the woman at the counter, she did not know who you were. That will not happen again, I promise. My name is Siva Singh. Would you like tea or coffee?’

Rayne and Guy both requested coffee, their eyes watching the interior of the bank very closely through the door of the manager’s office. The bank’s working area was full of small desks, each a work-station. At the back the massive doors of the vault were wide open, and people were constantly moving in and out. The bank was clearly very busy.

‘
You are impressed, Mr Brand?’

Rayne decided that the best way to get on with this man was to play up to his ego. ‘Er, yes. I had not expected such a massive vault.’

Mr Singh beamed, pulled out a cigar and lit it reflectively. ‘The vault was brought here by Mr Rhodes, that most excellent Englishman,’ he said, puffing clouds of smoke over his two clients. ‘Mr Rhodes had a dream that he would export his gold through Beira, a dream that unfortunately was never realised - but I still have the vault!’

Mr Singh’s office was massive, with an enormous oak desk at its centre. At the windows hung blue velvet curtains, and the oak floor was covered with Persian carpets.

‘
You must run a very profitable bank, Mr Singh?’

‘
Indeed I do. Even President Machel is jealous, and maybe that is not a bad thing. It has been said that one should always be in awe of one’s banker!’

‘
But there must be bigger banks in Maputo?’

Mr Singh looked at Rayne scornfully. ‘I used to live in the capital, our bank was always based there. But after the Portuguese left, it seemed logical to move somewhere a little more discreet. My clients feel that their possessions are a lot safer in Beira than in Maputo, and a lot less visible.’

‘
I am glad you believe in secrecy, Mr Singh. Usually I deal with one of the Swiss banks, but I now find myself in need of substantial funds. I also need a place to deposit large amounts of cash the moment I receive them.’

‘
Your money will be perfectly safe in this bank, Mr Brand. We have the best security - the Russian Airforce!’

Rayne winced visibly at this, but Singh misinterpreted him. ‘Mr Brand, I can assure you that the Russians would never take your money. They have much of their own, and it pays them to have a place of safe custody. I mention them only in the context of security.’

‘
Please elaborate.’ Rayne sucked in his breath and waited for the bad news.

‘
It’s quite simple. We always have a guard posted within the bank. In the event of an attempted robbery, he pushes a warning button which alerts our own army, FRELIMO. They then alert the Russians. So anyone who attempts to rob this bank will be taking on an entire army!’

So an alarm from this bank would be relayed direct to the Russian army, no doubt calling quite a number of troops away from the airfield. John Fry had planned well. Rayne said, ‘Good. Now, I would like to know the balance of my account with you at present.’

‘
Ten dollars. But I was informed by your Swiss bank that you are good for millions!’

Rayne tried to stay relaxed. Why had John Fry put so little money into the bank account?

‘
Did your bank in Zurich deposit less in the account than you’d expected, Mr Brand?’

‘
No, no, I was thinking about something else. Mr Singh, I will be depositing a large sum soon and that amount of money always makes me feel uneasy when it’s not in Zurich. The day I feel secure is the day I die.’

Mr Singh’s face took on a reassuring expression. ‘The Russians trust me. They have a large account with me.’ He leaned over the desk and smiled conspiratorially. ‘We have also had another enormous amount of money transferred here, like yours, from a Swiss account. I am waiting for the depositor to contact me.’ Rayne was astonished by Singh’s indiscretion, but was very interested. Who else would want to place large funds in the Bank of Beira?

‘
Mr Brand,’ Singh went on, ‘I am aware of your line of business. There are no competitors for you here. You have carte blanche.’

‘
We always pride ourselves on selling the very best. Naturally, if you could provide any leads for us we would be more than grateful. You would of course be the recipient of a commission.’

‘
Thank you, Mr Brand. We obviously operate along similar principles! You help me, I help you. In this line of business it is the only way to operate. Do you know Johannesburg, Mr Brand?’

‘
Maybe yes, maybe no.’

‘
Ah, I understand. It is just that I am expecting an important visitor from that capital tomorrow. Perhaps you know him?’

‘
Perhaps I do. What is his name?’

‘
Mr Aschaar.’

Rayne was surprised. He knew that Aschaar was the head of one of the biggest mining groups in South Africa, but why was he here?

‘
I’ve heard of him, but then who hasn’t? Now, if we could get down to business, I’d like to make a withdrawal.’

‘
How much do you require?’

‘
Five thousand dollars.’

Mr Singh lay back in his chair and put his hands behind his neck. ‘We do not give overdrafts.’