Just about the only thing that could escape unriddled from the power of such weapons was the almost impenetrable skin of a modern main battle tank. But the shipment of arms had that contingency thoughtfully covered, too. The longest, heaviest crates contained enough HJ-10 armour-piercing anti-tank missiles, the Chinese equivalent of the American Hellfire surface-to-air or surface-to-surface rocket, to take out an entire battalion. The launch systems were in a separate freight container.
‘This is not good, guys,’ Jeff said. ‘Not good at all.’
‘Funny,’ Ben said. ‘I was thinking the same thing.’
‘I’ll tell you something else that’s funny,’ Jeff said. ‘If these fuckers were Muslim jihadists, you’d have security services the world over shitting bricks at the thought that this little lot might fall into their hands. There’d probably be a satellite right overhead as we speak, and a dozen CIA spooks goggling at us live on the big screen in Langley, Virginia. But because Khosa’s just your regular African warlord nutcase who’s really only a threat to a bunch of other Africans, nobody’s going to give a rat’s arse. He’s got carte blanche to run his fucked-up little kingdom out here any way he likes and do whatever he pleases. How’s that for a joke?’
‘Hilarious. Then why’m I not rolling on the floor pissing my pants laughing?’ Tuesday said.
By the time they’d prised open every single crate and the ground was covered with lids and packing materials, the arsenal had grown to include a trio of fearsome Hua Qing belt-driven rotary ‘miniguns’, a useful quantity of grenades, several mortars and two flamethrowers. Down to the last nut, bolt, and bullet, the entire consignment had come direct from China.
‘Our friends in the east,’ was how Colonel Dizolele had described the senders of the shipment. Finally, one or two pieces of the puzzle were coming together. But that wasn’t what was uppermost in Ben’s mind at this moment, as he debated two possible options.
The first was the matter of how easily he might be able to slip a weapon onto his person unnoticed, for future use in aiding their escape from this damn place. One of the pistols would be best. There would be the difficulty of getting it loaded, as shoving loose twenty cartridges from an ammo crate into a magazine couldn’t be done quickly or discreetly enough while being watched. The soldiers, and especially Xulu, were scrutinising everything the three of them did, most likely suspicious about the very thing that Ben was thinking of. Any false moves, and they might just decide to shoot him. Which wasn’t going to help Jude’s situation.
The second thought hovering in Ben’s mind was the notion of sabotage. Whatever kind of business arrangement existed between Khosa and his friends in the east, it was unthinkable that such a lethal shipment could be allowed to enter into the man’s possession. Ben wasn’t about to forget the horrors that Khosa had already inflicted with just a handful of scuffed, battered old assault rifles and a few rusty old machetes. Give him state-of-the-art ordnance like this, and there was no telling what he’d be capable of.
But disabling ten tons of weaponry wasn’t a quick and easy prospect. For a few moments Ben played with the insane idea that a loose grenade dropped into the wrong box could set off a fireworks display that would wreck most of the stadium and be seen and heard for miles. Goodbye shipment. But goodbye Ben, Jeff, and Tuesday too. Maybe that wasn’t such a good plan.
With the boxes opened, the job was only just beginning. The sun grew meltingly hot as, for the next three hours, Ben and his companions checked and itemised every single piece of ordnance in the shipment.
‘That’s the last one,’ Jeff said, tossing a rifle back into its crate.
‘I’m done,’ Tuesday said. He’d been checking the ammo supply for obvious duds such as dented cases or badly seated heads. Sadly, every round he’d examined had been shipshape and ready for business.
‘Only question now is, when’s the delivery of tanks and fighter jets due to arrive?’ Jeff said.
‘Don’t joke about it,’ Ben told him. ‘That could be our next job.’
‘Even if it’s not, Khosa’s still got enough toys here to kick off a pretty decent little war.’
‘But who against?’ Tuesday said.
‘This is Africa, old son,’ Jeff told him. ‘There’s never any shortage of folks to attack. Military rivals to overthrow, civilians to slaughter, other races to exterminate. It’s what people do all over the world, always have, but here it’s the national sport.’
Xulu had left the comfort of the shade and was strutting towards them, sipping from a bottle of water in one hand and carrying a radio handset in the other.
‘You have done good work this morning, soldier,’ he said to Ben, smacking his lips after a long drink. He didn’t offer any of it to them.
‘Delighted to be of service. I hope you didn’t strain yourself with too much rest back there.’
Xulu held up the radio. ‘We have been called back to headquarters. The General wishes to see you.’
‘To inform us what our next duty of the day is?’ Ben said. ‘Maybe he’ll have us spend the afternoon drilling some sense into your so-called troops. Starting with teaching them to tell their right hand from their left, and their arse from a rocket crater in the ground. You might want to join in. Might learn something.’
Xulu’s gold teeth glinted in the sunlight. ‘No, soldier. He wishes to see just you, alone. You are invited to lunch.’
Just what it was about the idea of Ben having lunch with Khosa that Xulu found so amusing, Ben didn’t want to dwell on. Maybe the General had special plans. Maybe it was also lunchtime for another poor starving lion captured by the soldiers, or a cageful of Rhodesian Ridgeback hounds that Khosa kept out back somewhere, and he’d decided to have Ben served up as the main course. When it came to murdering prisoners, the man was as inventive as he was unpredictable.
So it was with a degree of trepidation that, on their return to the Khosa City Dorchester, Ben let himself be escorted to the top floor and shown inside the luxurious command post. His guards closed him in and left.
There was no sign of Ben’s gracious host in the palatial suite’s living room. After a moment’s hesitation, he headed for another door and found himself in an enormous dining room with a table that could have seated twenty people. No sign of places set for lunch. No sign of Khosa, either.
Ben went on exploring. Beyond the dining room, he discovered a narrow hallway with more rooms off it. He silently cracked open a door to his right, peered through