Mercenary (20 page)

‘You take to camping naturally,’ Stratton observed.

‘I prefer this to a caravan, pulling into some commercial campsite and plugging into an electricity and water supply.’

‘Good for you.’

‘I suppose this is the best way to start. Get stuck straight in.’

‘Your first camping experience or your first ambush?’

Stratton’s words were food for thought to Louisa. ‘That hasn’t even hit me yet. I can’t even begin to imagine what that will be like.’

Stratton could foresee clearly most of the action that he had planned. He did not need to imagine the outcome, either. He had countless previous examples to draw on and could hear in his head the explosions and see the terrible destruction the claymores would wreak. ‘You’d better prepare yourself. You’re going to see and hear people die and in a bloody awful way.’

‘I thought we were going to be well away from it when it happened.’

‘Haven’t you learned that Steel is little more than a salesman? If we want to ensure that it’s done right we have to be there.’

Louisa should have felt more nervous after hearing that. But she could not properly prepare herself emotionally for something she could not even imagine. ‘Have you ever thought about having a normal life?’

‘Sometimes. Just before the ambush I probably will. Definitely immediately after it.’

‘You’re different from any man I’ve ever known. The men react to you in a way I’ve not seen before. They don’t fear you, yet they know you’re someone to be feared. They want to be like you but they don’t want to be you because they know they cannot.’

The rain fell harder, the drumbeats on the canopy now a constant roll. Louisa turned onto her side to face Stratton, her cheek touching his shoulder. ‘Why is it that I feel safe with you?’ she asked sleepily. ‘I hated you when I first saw you. You represented the worst form of capitalism I could think of.What’s strange is that even now I don’t see anything different about what you do. All that’s changed is how I perceive your motives . . . You’re not interested in money, are you?’

‘No.’

‘I bet you don’t even know what your motives
are
.’

‘No, I don’t. Not completely.’

‘I should study you more closely,’ she said, drifting off. ‘I’d like to know why you’re like you are and why you do what you do.’

A strand of her hair fell against Stratton’s face. He could smell her. It was pure delight. Her breathing changed its rhythm as she dropped into unconsciousness. Only then did he close his eyes and allow himself to follow her.

 

When Stratton awoke the rain had ceased. Louisa was snuggled close to him. He looked for a moment at her beautiful face inches from his.

He eased away from her, slid out of his sleeping bag and got to his feet. The other men were still asleep and one of the Indians lay rolled in a ball beneath the banana-leaf shelter. There was no sign of the other.

Stratton walked to the edge of the wood and looked at the valley that spread out before him. The blood-red sun at the far end was setting in a magnificent blaze of colour. He sensed something to his side and turned to see Mohesiwa watching him from a distance. Stratton waved and, to his surprise, the gesture was returned.

He went back to the group and stood over Victor who was still sound asleep. ‘Victor,’ he said, nudging him with his toe.

Victor opened his eyes and within a few seconds remembered where he was. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked quietly as he sat up.

‘We should get going. By the time we get the animals loaded the sun will be gone.’

Victor hawked to clear his throat, spat out the phlegm and got to his feet. ‘I would love a cup of coffee right now,’ he said. ‘I was dreaming of a little café I used to go to in Pau. You know Pau?’

‘I do. I used to parachute there.’

‘Well, I used to drink wine and coffee there, a more civilised occupation but no less dangerous. It was where I met my wife. And where I divorced her. That town had everything.’ Victor got to his feet.

David stirred, yawned and reached across to give his cousin a shake. Both young men got up.

Stratton dismantled his shelter without waking Louisa. He crouched beside her and gently pinched her nostrils together. Her eyes flickered open and he withdrew his hand. ‘You just saved me,’ she said.

‘I did?’

‘I was having the most bizarre dream about the president of Mexico - who I’ve never met.’ She sat up. ‘He asked me to marry him. He was repulsive and started to chase me.’

‘It must be these woods,’ Stratton said, closing up his pack. ‘Victor was dreaming about his ex-wife.’

‘I heard that,’ Victor called out as he saddled his horse. ‘I was dreaming about drinking coffee in the town where my ex-wife lives. She was a beautiful woman, actually. And she truly loved me at one time. Love is one of life’s gifts that few really experience. I hope you discover what I mean one day,’ he scoffed.

The group ate a light breakfast of bread, bananas and wild canistels, an eggfruit that the Indians had supplied, and within a short while they were mounted and heading out of the forest into the valley.

They were soon in complete darkness, following a winding goat track up the side of a steep, rocky hill that Victor had referred to as a ‘goddamned mountain’ when he first saw it. But the size of such things is always deceptive at night and within an hour they had reached the top.

Stratton halted them short of the ridge line in order to find a place to cross over without exposing their silhouettes. A road ran along the valley floor on the other side and they had to assume that it was patrolled by government soldiers.

They followed the ridge for some distance before Stratton ordered a dismount and they passed through a narrow cut, emerging the other side to find themselves overlooking another and much larger valley. They could see none of its features in the darkness but according to the map a small river meandered along the bottom alongside a tarmac highway.

They weren’t far from the ambush site now and they stayed on foot down the steep, rocky incline, Kebowa and Mohesiwa sticking close by. The group had not gone far when a light appeared at one end of the valley. They stopped to watch what was obviously a vehicle on the road. As it drew closer the gentle rumble of its engine could be heard. The headlights suddenly began to flicker, strobe-like, as they passed behind something. At the same time the sound of heavy-duty wheels driving over a metal grid drowned out the noise of the engine.

‘The bridge,’ Victor said.

The truck’s red tail lights glowed as it headed down the valley and disappeared out of sight.

The group continued down the slope without another word. A large dark patch near the bottom of their side of the valley turned out to be a small wood, an ideal place in which to hide the horses until the sun came up. As they neared it they discovered a small rise between the wood and the river, which made it an even better place of concealment. The ground was arid and peppered with shrubs and stunted trees.

The moon shone as brightly as it had the night before, more so than Stratton would have liked.

Stratton ordered the equipment unloaded and the horses and burros unsaddled for the time being. He spread his shelter canopy on the ground while the Indians stood by, watching him. Stratton removed one of the claymores from its pouch and laid it on the canopy along with the roll of wire, the twine and a couple of wire-cutters.

When the others had completed their tasks they returned to see what Stratton was up to.

‘Sit in a line,’ Stratton said, slipping naturally into instructor mode. ‘I’m going to run through the ambush set-up. If at any time you don’t understand what I’m telling you, just ask me to go through it again.’

‘I feel like I’m back in school,’ Victor said.

‘You are. The difference is that if you screw up this lesson we may all die.’

The Indians moved closer to look at the strange devices that the soldier was holding.

‘The plan is quite simple,’ Stratton went on. ‘The bridge is our ambush point - our killing zone. All we’re going to do is wait for our target vehicle to drive onto the bridge and then we’ll blow it. You’re happy with how to wire up the detonators like I showed you yesterday?’

Victor nodded.

‘David, Bernard?’ Stratton asked.

The two young men nodded.

‘Show me again, quickly,’ Stratton said. He tossed Bernard a claymore and the wire and placed a detonator in front of him.

Bernard confidently unscrewed the detonator-terminal cap from the top of the claymore. He stripped the plastic coating off the ends of the wires with his teeth, picked up the detonator with care, unravelled the wire that was factory-wrapped around it and connected the bared ends, twisting them together. He finished by tying the join in a knot to prevent it from being pulled apart. He inserted the detonator into the claymore and screwed the terminal housing home.

‘That’s good,’ Stratton said. ‘Do I need to see you two do it?’ he asked the others.

‘If you want,’ Victor said. ‘But I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.’

David nodded in agreement.

‘Good. Victor, your job will be to roll out the wire from the bridge all the way to here, which will be the firing point. Put the batteries there but keep them in the bag and nowhere near the ends of the wires.’

‘Of course,’ Victor said.

‘We’ll prepare all the mines here, then take them to the bridge. I’ll lay them out.You boys,’ he said, looking at David and Bernard, ‘will tie them into position and connect them to the main wire which I will lay. Any questions?’

‘What if a car comes along?’ Victor asked.

‘Kebowa and Mohesiwa will watch from the rise. If they see anything one of them will come and warn us. We’ll have plenty of time. Anything else? Okay. Let’s go.’

The men began preparing the claymores.

‘What can I do?’ Louisa asked.

‘You’re going to be my gofer.’

‘Your what?’

‘My go-for-this, go-for-that.’

‘Oh. I see.’

When all was ready the men divided up the mines between them, hanging the canvas bags over their shoulders. Victor handed the twine to Louisa.

Stratton paused on the edge of the rise to observe the general area for a moment. They all stood silently watching and listening, allowing their senses to acclimatise to the sights and sounds of the landscape.

Stratton set off and they headed down the slope to the edge of the river, which was as wide as a main road. Bernard was first in after declaring that it was not deep and he went to the middle, where it reached his waist. They walked out on the other side, the road now a stone’s throw away, and Stratton followed the river bank around a sharp bend where it went beneath the bridge.

They paused to observe the decades-old large iron structure. It was a truss construction, a skeletal design made up of straight girders formed into triangular frames and riveted together. The sides were high enough to allow a lorry to pass beneath where the cross-beams joined over the top.

‘Give us your mines,’ Stratton said to Victor. ‘Tie off the end of the cable at the left base of the bridge. Allow enough to reach the top of the bridge. Then run it back through the river to where we crossed and on back to the mound.’

Victor shared his mines out between the others, including Louisa, and hurried to the base of the bridge with the wire spool.

Stratton led them up the steep bank onto the road. The tarmac came to a ragged stop where it met the bridge’s grid-metal road surface. ‘Put all the mines here,’ he said, pointing down. ‘Bernard. Up you go to the top.’

Bernard started to climb up one of the bridge’s girders. Stratton took a slow walk across the bridge, examining the top and sides as he went. Louisa and David watched him until he was almost at the far end, nearly out of sight in the darkness.

‘You nervous?’ she asked David.

‘Not right now. But I think I will be later.’

‘I’m nervous now. I’ll be exhausted later.’

David smiled at her and went back to watching Stratton. ‘He’s a good man, Stratton, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, I think he’s a good man.’

Stratton made his way back, inspecting the cross-bars above. ‘David. Climb up. I’ll pass the mines to you and you pass them to Bernard.’

David scurried up. Stratton climbed behind him but stopped only a couple of metres above the road. He stretched a hand down to Louisa. ‘Hand me one mine at a time. Stop when you get to ten.’

She passed him one of the bags. Stratton handed it to David who hefted it up to Bernard who was lying on his belly on top of the bridge.

‘That’s it,’ she said when she had reached ten.

‘The wire and then the twine,’ Stratton said.

Louisa gave them to him.

‘Shall I come up?’ she asked.

‘No. I might need you down there,’ Stratton replied as he climbed up to join the others.

The three men stood up carefully on the top span that ran the length of the bridge. It would have been wide enough to walk on comfortably if it had been lying on the ground but it was unnervingly narrow so high up.

Stratton walked along it to examine the cross-struts and check his calculations. Louisa followed below, hardly taking her stare off him. The long spans that ran parallel with the road were connected by ten cross-struts.

‘One mine under each strut pointing down at the road,’ he called out from halfway along.

‘In the centre?’ David asked.

‘Yes. Let’s do the first one and see how it goes.’ David knelt down and stretched out along the top of the cross-strut, which was narrower than the main spans. Bernard removed a mine from its bag, straightened the ends of the detonator wires and handed it to him. A length of twine followed and when the mine was secured David tied the ends of the detonator wires on top of the strut in readiness for the main wire.