Authors: Wilbur Smith
Wild Justice (12 page)
âIngrid, we request your clearance to have an ambulance remove the bodies,' Peter asked.
âNegative, Tower. I say again, negative. No one is to approach this aircraft.' There was a pause. âWe will wait until we have a round dozen bodies for you to removeâ' The girl giggled, still on the drug high, ââ wait until midnight, and we'll make it really worth your while' And the radio clicked into silence.
âW
e are going to give you dinner now,' Ingrid shouted cheerfully, and there was a stir of interest down the length of the cabin. âAnd it's my birthday today. So you're going to have champagne â isn't that great!'
e are going to give you dinner now,' Ingrid shouted cheerfully, and there was a stir of interest down the length of the cabin. âAnd it's my birthday today. So you're going to have champagne â isn't that great!'
But the plump little Jewish doctor rose suddenly to his feet. His grey sparse hair stood up in comical wisps, and his face seemed to have collapsed, like melting candle wax, ravaged and destroyed by grief. He no longer seemed to be aware of what had been said or what was happening. âYou had no right to kill her.' His voice sounded like a very old
man. âShe was a good person. She never hurt anyoneâ' He looked about him with a confused, unfocused look, and ran the fingers of one hand through his disordered hair. âYou should not have killed her,' he repeated.
man. âShe was a good person. She never hurt anyoneâ' He looked about him with a confused, unfocused look, and ran the fingers of one hand through his disordered hair. âYou should not have killed her,' he repeated.
âShe was guilty,' Ingrid called back at him. âNobody is innocent â you are all the cringing tools of international capitalismâ' Her face twisted, in an ugly spasm of hatred. ââ You are guilty, all of you, and you deserve to dieâ' She stopped short, controlled herself with an obvious effort of will, and then smiled again; going forward to the little doctor, she put an arm around his shoulders. âSit down,' she said, almost tenderly, âI know just how you feel, please believe me, I wish there had been another way.'
He sank down slowly, his eyes vacant with sorrow and his fingers plucking numbly at themselves.
âYou just sit there quietly,' Ingrid said gently. âI'm going to bring you a glass of champagne now.'
âP
rime Ministerâ' Kelly Coristable's voice was husky with almost two days and nights of unceasing tension, ââ it's after ten o'clock already. We must have a decision soon, in less than two hoursâ'
rime Ministerâ' Kelly Coristable's voice was husky with almost two days and nights of unceasing tension, ââ it's after ten o'clock already. We must have a decision soon, in less than two hoursâ'
The Prime Minister lifted one hand to silence the rest of it.
âYes, we all know what will happen then.'
An airforce jet has delivered a copy of the videotape from Johannesburg, a thousand miles away, and the cabinet and the ambassadors had watched the atrocity in detail, recorded by an 800-mm lens. There was not a man at the table who did not have children of his own. The toughest right-wingers amongst them wavered uncertainly, even the puckish little Minister of Police could not meet the
ambassador's eyes as he swept the table with a compelling gaze.
ambassador's eyes as he swept the table with a compelling gaze.
âAnd we all know that no compromise is possible, we must meet the demands in full or not at all.'
âMr Ambassadorâ' the Prime Minister broke the silence at last, ââ if we agree to the terms, it will be only as an act of humanity. We will be paying a very high price indeed for the lives of your people â but if we agree to that price, can we be absolutely assured of your support â the support of both Britain and the United States â in the Security Council the day after tomorrow at noon?'
âThe President of the United States has empowered me to pledge his support in return for your co-operation,' said Kelly Constable.
âHer Britannic Majesty's Government has asked me to assure you of the same support,' intoned Sir William. âAnd our governments will make good the 170 million dollars demanded by the hijackers.'
âStill I cannot make the decision on my own. It is too onerous for one man,' the Prime Minister sighed. âI am going to ask my ministers, the full cabinetâ' he indicated the tense, grim faces around him, ââ to vote. I am going to ask you gentlemen to leave us alone now for a few minutes while we decide.'
And the two ambassadors rose together and bowed slightly to the brooding, troubled figure before leaving the room.
âW
here is Colonel Noble?' Kingston Parker asked.
here is Colonel Noble?' Kingston Parker asked.
âHe is waitingâ' Peter indicated with a jerk of his head the sound-proof door of the Hawker's command cabin.
âI want him in on this, please,' Parker said from the screen, and Peter pressed the call button.
Colin Noble came in immediately, stooping slightly under the low roof, a chunky powerful figure with the blue Thor cap pulled low over his eyes.
âGood evening, sir.' He greeted the image on the screen and squeezed into the seat beside Peter.
âI'm glad Colonel Noble is here.' Peter's voice was crisp and businesslike. âI think he will support my contention that the chances of a successful Delta counterstrike will be greatly enhanced if we can launch our attack not later than ten minutes before eleven oâclock.' He tugged back the cuff of his sleeve, and glanced at his watch. âThat is forty minutes from now. We reckon to catch the militants at the moment when the drug cycle is at its lowest, before they take more pills and begin to arouse themselves to meet their deadline. I believe that if we strike then, we will have an acceptable riskâ'
âThank you, General Strideâ' Parker interrupted him smoothly, ââ but I wanted Colonel Noble present so there could be no misunderstanding of my orders. Colonel Nobleâ' Parker's eyes shifted slightly as he changed the object of his attention. âCommander of Thor has requested an immediate Delta strike against Speedbird 070. I am now, in your presence, disapproving that request. Negotiations with the South African Government are at a critical state, and under no circumstances must there be either overt or covert hostile moves towards the militants. Do I make myself entirely clear?'
âYes, sir.' Colin Noble's expression was stony.
âGeneral Stride?'
âI understand, sir.'
âVery well. I want you to stand by, please. I am going to confer with the ambassadors. I will re-establish contact as soon as I have further concrete indications.'
The image receded rapidly, and the screen went dark. Colonel Colin Noble turned slowly and looked at Peter Stride, his expression changed slightly at what he saw, and
quickly he pressed the censor button on the command console, stopping all recording tapes, killing the video cameras so there would be no record of his words now.
quickly he pressed the censor button on the command console, stopping all recording tapes, killing the video cameras so there would be no record of his words now.
âListen, Peter, you're in line for that NATO command, everybody knows that. From there the sky is the limit, pal. Right up there to the joint chiefs â just as far as you want to go.'
Peter said nothing, but glanced once more at the gold Rolex wristwatch. It was seventeen minutes past ten o'clock.
âThink, Peter. For God's sake, man. It's taken you twenty heart-breaking years of hard work to get where you are. They would never forgive you, buddy. You'd better believe it. They'll break you and your career. Don't do it, Peter. Don't do it. You're too good to waste yourself. Just stop and think for one minute.'
âI'm thinking,' said Peter quietly. âI haven't stopped thinking sinceâ' he checked, ââ always it comes back to this. If I let them die â then I am as guilty as that woman who pulls the trigger.'
âPeter, you don't have to beat your head in. The decision is made by someone elseâ'
âIt would be easier to believe that, wouldn't it,' Peter snapped, âbut it won't save those people out there.'
Colin leaned across and placed a large hairy paw on Peter's upper arm. He squeezed slightly. âI know, but it eats me to see you have to throw it all away. In my book, you're one of the tops, buddy.' It was the first time he had made any such declaration, and Peter was fleetingly moved by it.
âYou can duck this one, Colin. It doesn't have to touch you or your career.'
âI never was very hot at ducking.' Colin dropped his hand away. âI think I'll go along for the rideâ'
âI want you to record a protest â no sense us all getting ourselves fired,' said Peter, as he switched on the recording equipment, both audio and video; now every word would be recorded
âColonel Noble,' he said distinctly, âI am about to lead an immediate Delta assault on Flight 070. Please make the arrangements.'
Colin turned to face the camera. âGeneral Stride, I must formally protest at any order to initiate condition Delta without express approval from Atlas Command.'
âColonel Noble, your protest is noted,' Peter told the camera gravely, and Colin Noble hit the censor button once again, cutting tapes and camera.
âOkay, that's enough crap for one day.' He came nimbly to his feet. âLet's get out there and take the bastards.'
I
ngrid sat at the flight engineer's desk, and held the microphone of the on-board loudspeaker system to her lips. There was a greyish tone beneath the sun-gilded skin; she frowned a little at the throbbing pulse of pain behind her eyes and the hand that held the microphone trembled slightly. She knew these were all symptoms of the drug hangover. She regretted now having increased the initial dosage beyond that recommended on the typed label of the tablet phial â but she had needed that extra lift to be able to carry out the first executions. Now she and her officers were paying the price, but in another twenty minutes she would be able to issue another round of tablets. This time she would stay exactly within the recommended dosage, and she anticipated the rush of it through her blood, the heightened vision and energy, the tingling exhilaration of the drug. She even anticipated the thought of what lay ahead; to be able to wield absolute power, the power of death itself, was one of life's most worthwhile experiences. Sartre and Bakunin and Most had discovered one of the great truths of life â that the act of destruction, of total destruction, was a catharsis, a creation, a reawakening of the soul. She looked forward, even through the staleness
and ache of the drug let-down, she looked forward to the next executions.
ngrid sat at the flight engineer's desk, and held the microphone of the on-board loudspeaker system to her lips. There was a greyish tone beneath the sun-gilded skin; she frowned a little at the throbbing pulse of pain behind her eyes and the hand that held the microphone trembled slightly. She knew these were all symptoms of the drug hangover. She regretted now having increased the initial dosage beyond that recommended on the typed label of the tablet phial â but she had needed that extra lift to be able to carry out the first executions. Now she and her officers were paying the price, but in another twenty minutes she would be able to issue another round of tablets. This time she would stay exactly within the recommended dosage, and she anticipated the rush of it through her blood, the heightened vision and energy, the tingling exhilaration of the drug. She even anticipated the thought of what lay ahead; to be able to wield absolute power, the power of death itself, was one of life's most worthwhile experiences. Sartre and Bakunin and Most had discovered one of the great truths of life â that the act of destruction, of total destruction, was a catharsis, a creation, a reawakening of the soul. She looked forward, even through the staleness
and ache of the drug let-down, she looked forward to the next executions.
âMy friendsâ' she spoke into the microphone, ââ we have not heard from the tyrant. His lack of concern for your lives is typical of the fascist imperialist. He does not concern himself with the safety of the people, though he sucks and bloats himself on the blood and sweatâ'
Outside the aircraft the night was black and close. Thunderheads blotted out half the sky, and every few minutes lightning lit the clouds internally. Twice since sundown abrupt fierce downpours of torrential rain had hammered briefly against the Boeing hull, and now the airport lights glinted on the puddled tarmac.
â We have to show the face of unrelenting courage and iron purpose to the tyrant. We cannot afford to show even a moment's hesitation. We must now choose four more hostages. It will be done with the utmost impartiality â and I want you all to realize that we are now all part of the revolution together, you can be proud of thatâ'
Lightning exploded suddenly, much closer, a crackling greenish, iridescent flaming of the heavens that lit the field in merciless light, and then the flail of the thunder beat down upon the aircraft. The girl Karen exclaimed involuntarily and sprang nervously to her feet and crossed quickly to stand beside Ingrid. Her dark eyes were now heavily underscored by the dark kohl of fatigue and drug withdrawal; she trembled violently, and Ingrid caressed her absently the way she might calm a frightened kitten as she went on speaking into the microphone.
ââ We must all of us learn to welcome death, to welcome the opportunity to take our place and add our contribution, no matter how humble it might be, to man's great reawakening.'
Lightning burst in fierce splendour once again, but Ingrid went on talking into the microphone, the senseless words somehow hypnotic and lulling so that her captives sat in
quietly lethargic rows, not speaking, unmoving, seeming no longer capable of independent thought.
quietly lethargic rows, not speaking, unmoving, seeming no longer capable of independent thought.
âI have drawn lots to choose the next martyrs of the revolution. I will call out the seat numbers and my officers will come to fetch you. Please co-operate by moving quickly forward to the first-class galley.' There was a pause, and then Ingrid's voice again. âSeat number 63B Please stand up.'
The scarred German in the red shirt and with the lank black hair hanging over his eyes had to force the thin, middle-aged man to his feet, twisting his wrist up between his shoulder blades. The man's white shirt was crumpled and he wore elastic braces over his shoulders and old-fashioned narrow trousers.
âYou can't let them,' the man pleaded with his fellow passengers, as Henri pushed him up the aisle. âYou can't let them kill me, please.' And they looked down at their laps. Nobody moved, nobody spoke.
âSeat number 43F.' It was a handsome dark-haired woman in her middle thirties, and her face seemed to dissolve slowly as she read the number above her seat, and she covered her mouth with one hand to prevent herself crying out â but from the seat exactly across the aisle from her a sprightly old gentleman with a magnificent mane of silver-grey hair rose swiftly to his feet and adjusted his tie.
âWould you care to change seats with me, madam?' he said softly in a clipped English accent, and strode down the aisle, on long, thin, stork-like legs, contemptuously brushing past the blond moustached Frenchman who came hurrying forward to escort him. Without a glance to either side, and with thin shoulders thrown back, he disappeared through the curtains into the forward galley
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