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At the first table were seated three junior officers.
There was a radio apparatus on the second table, and Timon Nbebi was leaning over the operator's shoulder, speaking into the microphone in low rippling Shana that Craig could not follow, breaking off abruptly to give an order to the black sergeant at the map, who immediately moved one of the coloured markers to a new position.
Peter Fungabera greeted Craig and Sally-A
It's the biggest and most valuable shipment, ivory and rhino horn." He broke off as Captain Nbebi handed him a note, read it swiftly and said, "Good, move two platoons up the north road as far as Karoi," and then turned back to Craig.
The operation is code-named "Bada", that is Shana for "leopard". Our suspect will be referred to as Bada during the entire operation." Craig nodded. "We have just heard that Bada has left Harare. He is in his official Mercedes with a driver and two bodyguards all three of them Matabele, of course."
"Which way?" Sally-A
"At this stage, he seems to be heading north, but it's still too early to be sure."
"To meet the big shipment-" there was the light of battle in Sally-A
"We must believe that is so," Peter agreed. "Now let me explain our disposition if Bada moves north. The shipments from Chimanimani and Chiredzi will be allowed through unhindered as far as the airport. They will be seized as soon as they arrive, and the drivers, together with the reception committee, arrested, to be used as witnesses later.
Of course, their progress will be under surveillance at all times from the moment the trucks are loaded. The owners of the two warehouses will be arrested as soon as the trucks leave and are clear of the area.) Both Craig and Sally-A
"How are you pla
"It will be very much a matter of opportunity, and what we will do depends necessarily on Bada's actions. We have to try and make a physical co
The radio set crackled and the side-band hummed, then a disembodied voice spoke in Shana, and Captain Nbebi acknowledged curtly, and glanced across at Peter.
"It's confirmed, sit. BJda is moving north on the Karoi road at speed."
"All right, Captain, we can go up to condition three," Peter ordered, and strapped on the webbing belt with his bolstered sidearm. "Do you have anything from the surveillance teams on the Tuti road?" Captain Nbebi called three times into the microphone, and was answered almost immediately. The reply to his question was brief.
"Negative at this time, General, he reported to Peter.
"It's still too early." Peter adjusted his burgundy-red beret to a rakish angle, and the silver leopard's head glinted over his right eye.
"But we can begin moving into our forward positions now." He led the way through the french doors onto the veranda.
"Me helicopter crew saw him, quickly dropped their -te hatch.
cigarettes, ground them out and vaulted up into d Peter Fungabera climbed up into the fuselage and the starter -motor whined and the rotors began to spin overhead.
As they settled down on the bench seats and clinched their waist, belts Craig asked impulsively the question that had been troubling him, but he asked it in a voice low enough not to be heard by the others in the rising bellow of the main engine.
"Peter, this is a full-scale military operation, almost a crusade.
Why not merely hand it over to the police?"
"Since they fired their white officers, the police have become a bunch of heavyhanded bunglers- then Peter gave him a rake-hell smile and after all, old boy, they are my rhino also." The helicopter lifted off with a gut-sliding swoop, and its nose rotated onto a northerly heading. Keeping low, hugging the contours, it bore away, and the rush of air through the open hatch made further conversation impossible.
They kept well to the west of the main northern road, not risking a sighting by the occupants of the Mercedes.
An hour later, as the helicopter hovered and then began its descent to the small military fort at Karoi, Craig glanced at his wristwatch. It was after four o'clock.
Peter Fungabera saw the gesture and nodded. "It looks as though it's going to be a night operation, "he agreed.
The village of Karoi had once been a centre for the white, owned ranches in the area, but now it was a single street of shabby trading-stores, a service station, a post office and a small police station. The military base was a little beyond the town, still heavily fortified from the days of the bush war with a barbed-wire surround and sloped walls of sandbags twenty feet thick.