Hyena Dawn by Christopher Sherlock Read Free Book Online Page B

Rayne thought that that understanding was probably what drew him and Sam together.
    Sam was on an assignment in Matabeleland for a week, so Rayne was alone in the cottage. It was late on the Wednesday evening when he received the phone call. He picked up the receiver and glanced at his watch. Past midnight.
    ‘ Major Long here.’ The voice sounded strangely detached. ‘Meet me on foot at the corner of Jameson and Victoria Roads in five minutes. Tell no one.’
    Rayne put the phone down and found he was sweating. The car picked him up as he arrived at the street corner. Major Long was sitting in the back, a driver in civvies at the front. Once the car had pulled off, the Major began to talk.
    ‘ You’ll be leaving here very soon. You will effectively disappear.’
    ‘ You’ll tell Sam?’
    ‘ Nothing. I’m sorry. That is one of the conditions of the operation - complete secrecy. Even I’m not fully in the picture. We’re going to the rendezvous point now, where you’ll get an initial briefing.’
    ‘ Dammit, you could have given me some warning.’
    ‘ We waited till Sam was away. It’s your decision. We could call it off now. You must understand that this operation means making sacrifices. Mine was giving up the opportunity of leading it in favour of yourself.’
    Rayne saw the grim look on Long’s face. He realised what that decision must have cost. ‘You’re better suited for this operation than I am,’ Long continued. ‘You’re younger. You’re a natural fighter. You know the territory and your Shona is fluent. You also speak Portuguese.’
    Rayne was taken aback. He had told no one that he spoke Portuguese, which he’d picked up on long fishing holidays in Mozambique with his father. He preferred to keep his knowledge, and his past, to himself.
    The Major correctly interpreted the look on Rayne’s face. ‘We know because you interrogated a FRELIMO soldier in Portuguese. You’re a dark horse, Gallagher, and that’s another reason why you’ve been chosen.’
    That was it, then. The operation, or Sam. As he figured it, he might have a chance of making it up to Sam - but he’d never have another chance to do something like this again.
    ‘ OK. I’m in.’
    ‘ Och, I guessed you would be.’
    They continued the journey in silence till they arrived at an old farmhouse some distance outside Salisbury. The car pulled up outside the drive, and they got out.
    ‘ Good luck, Gallagher.’
    They shook hands, and Rayne walked down the dirt drive without looking back. Moments later he heard the car drive off.
     
    Martin Long looked out through the back window of the car at the house in the darkness. God, what had he come to? It was sheer suicide, what they’d proposed; he’d refused it point-blank. Then the pressure had started. If he wouldn’t do it, then he had to find someone who could.
    Rayne Gallagher had been the only possible choice. But what condition was he in to handle the pressure he was going to be under?
    Martin Long turned and looked out of the front window, concentrating on the dirt road curving ahead of him into the distance. How had John Fry found out about his father, about the disgrace and the cowardice? Fry was a bastard, threatening to unearth the whole story, feed it to the press. The price of his silence was a man who could lead his crazy mission.
    He shivered. Had he been a coward? He tried to ease his conscience by telling himself that the release of the story would destroy his father, an old man in his eighties with nothing but his past to keep him going.
     
    ‘ Good evening, Captain Gallagher, I’m pleased you have agreed to lead this operation. My name is John Fry.’
    From his accent, Rayne knew at once that he was an American. CIA? But why the hell were the Americans involved in this? He was in his early forties, in good physical shape and around five foot ten tall, with a clean-cut boyish face and dark hair. He would have been at home in the first class compartment of