cc.vixen03-第14章

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　〃Are　you　sure　it　will　bring　out　the　etching？〃
　〃Couldn't　say。　I'm　not　a　chemist。　Won't　hurt　it；　though。〃
　Steiger　threw　up　his　hands　in　exasperation　and　turned　to　Pitt。　〃I　knew　I　should　have　saved　this　stuff　for　professional　lab　technicians。〃
　Giordino　calmly　ignored　Steiger's　remark　and　delicately　lifted　the　plate　out　of　the　boiling　water　with　two　forks　and　patted　it　dry　with　a　dish　towel。　Then　he　held　it　up　to　the　light；　turning　it　at　different　angles。
　〃What　do　you　see？〃　Pitt　asked。
　Giordino　set　the　small　aluminum　plate　down　on　the　table　in　front　of　them。　He　inhaled　deeply；　his　features　taking　on　a　grave　expression。
　〃A　symbol；〃　he　said　tensely。　〃The　symbol　for　radioactivity。〃
　
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　Operation　Wild　Rose
　
　11
　
　Natal；　South　Africa…October　1988
　
　To　the　casual　eye　the　great　trunk　of　the　dead　baobab　tree　looked　like　one　of　a　thousand　others　spread　about　the　northeast　coastal　plain　of　Natal　Province；　South　Africa。　There　was　no　way　of　telling　why　it　had　died　or　how　long　ago。　It　stood　in　a　kind　of　grotesque　beauty；　its　leafless　branches　clutching　at　an　azure　sky　with　gnarled；　woody　fingers　while　its　rotting　bark　crumbled　into　a　medicinal…smelling　humus　on　the　ground。　There　was；　however；　one　startling　difference　that　set　this　dead　baobab　tree　apart　from　the　others：　its　trunk　was　hollowed　out　and　a　man　crouched　inside；　intently　peering　through　a　small　aperture　with　a　pair　of　binocu…lars。
　It　was　an　ideal　hiding　place；　blueprinted　from　some　long…forgotten　manual　on　guerrilla　warfare。　Marcus　Somala；　section　leader　of　the　African　Army　of　Revolution；　was　proud　of　his　handiwork。　Two　hours　was　all　it　had　taken　him　the　previous　night　to　scoop　out　the　spongy　core　of　the　tree　and　stealthily　scatter　the　debris　deep　within　the　encircling　brush。　Once　fortably　settled　inside；　he　did　not　have　to　wait　long　for　his　concealment　to　pass　its　first　test。
　Shortly　after　dawn　a　black　field…worker　from　the　farm　that　Somala　was　observing　wandered　by；　hesitated；　and　then　relieved　himself　against　the　baobab。　Somala　watched；　smiling　inwardly。　He　felt　an　impulse　to　slip　the　blade　of　his　long　curved　Moroccan　knife　out　the　sight　hole　and　slice　off　the　worker's　penis。　The　impulse　was　to　Somala　an　amusing　one；　nothing　more。　He　did　not　indulge　himself　with　stupid　actions。　He　was　a　profes…sional　soldier　and　a　dedicated　revolutionist；　a　seasoned　veteran　of　nearly　a　hundred　raids。　He　was　proud　to　serve　in　the　front　line　of　the　crusade　to　eradicate　the　last　vestige　of　the　Anglo　cancer　from　the　African　continent。
　Ten　days　had　passed　since　he　led　his　ten…man　section　team　from　their　base　camp　in　Mozambique　over　the　border　into　Natal。　They　had　moved　only　at　night；　skirting　the　known　paths　of　the　police　security　patrols　and　hiding　in　the　bushveld　from　the　helicopters　of　the　South　African　Defence　Force。　It　had　been　a　grueling　trek。　The　October　spring　in　the　Southern　Hemisphere　was　unusually　cool；　and　the　underbrush　seemed　eternally　clammy　from　constant　rains。
　When　at　last　they　had　reached　the　small　farming　township　of　Umkono；　Somala　stationed　his　men　according　to　the　plan　given　him　by　his　Vi…etnamese　adviser。　Each　man　was　to　scout　a　farm　or　military　facility　for　five　days；　gathering　information　for　future　raids。　Somala　had　assigned　the　Fawkes　farm　to　himself。
　After　the　field…worker　had　ambled　off　to　begin　his　day's　labor；　Somala　refocused　his　binoculars　and　scanned　the　Fawkes　spread。　The　majority　of　the　cleared　acreage；　waging　a　constant　battle　against　the　encroaching　sea　of　surrounding　bush　and　grassland；　was　planted　in　sugarcane。　The　remainder　was　mostly　pasture　for　small　herds　of　beef　and　dairy　cattle　with　a　bit　of　tea　and　tobacco　thrown　in。　There　was　also　a　garden　plot　behind　the　main　house；　containing　vegetables　for　the　personal　consump…tion　of　the　Fawkes　family。
　A　stone　barn　was　used　to　store　the　cattle　feed　and　crop　fertilizers。　It　stood　apart　from　a　huge　shed　that　covered　the　trucks　and　farm　equip…ment。　A　quarter　of　a　mile　beyond；　situated　beside　a　meandering　stream；　was　a　pound　that　housed　a　munity　of　what　Somala　guessed　to　be　nearly　fifty　workers　and　their　families；　along　with　their　cattle　and　goats。
　The　Fawkes　house…more　of　an　estate；　actually…dominated　the　crest　of　a　hill　and　was　neatly　landscaped　by　rows　of　gladiola　and　fire　lilies　edging　a　closely　cropped　lawn。　The　picturesque　scene　was　spoiled　by　a　ten…foot　chain…link　fence　topped　by　several　strands　of　barbed　wire　that　guarded　the　house　on　all　four　sides。
　Somala　studied　the　barrier　closely。　It　was　a　stout　fence。　The　support　poles　were　thick　and　were　no　doubt　buried　deep　in　encased　concrete。　Nothing　short　of　a　tank　could　penetrate　that　mesh；　he　calculated。　He　shifted　his　glasses　until　a　solidly　muscled　man　with　a　repeating　rifle　strapped　to　a　shoulder　came　into　view。　The　guard　leaned　casually　against　a　small　wooden　shelter　that　stood　next　to　a　gate。　Guards　could　be　surprised　and　easily　disposed　of；　Somala　mused；　but　it　was　the　thin　lines　leading　from　the　fence　to　the　basement　of　the　house　that　diluted　his　confidence。　He　didn't　require　the　presence　of　an　electrical　engineer　to　tell　him　the　fence　was　connected　to　a　generator。　He　could　only　speculate　as　to　the　strength　of　the　voltage　that　surged　invisibly　through　the　chain　link。　He　noted　also　that　one　of　the　wires　led　into　the　guard's　shelter。　That　meant　a　switch　had　to　be　thrown　by　a　guard　whenever　the　gate　was　opened；　and　this　was　the　Achilles'　heel　of　the　Fawkes　defense。
　Pleased　at　his　discovery；　Somala　settled　down　inside　his　blind　and　watched　and　waited。
　
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　Captain　Patrick　McKenzie　Fawkes；　Royal　Navy　retired；　paced　the　floor　of　his　veranda　with　the　same　intensity　he　had　once　exhibited　on　the　deck　of　a　ship　when　approaching　home　port。　He　was　a　giant　of　a　man；　standing　a　shade　over　six　feet　six　in　his　bare　feet　and　supporting　a　frame　that　exceeded　two　hundred　eighty　pounds。　His　eyes　were　somber　gray；　tinted　dark　as　the　water　of　the　North　Sea　under　a　November　storm。　Every　sand…colored　strand　of　hair　was　brushed　neatly　in　place；　as　were　the　whitening　filaments　of　his　King　George　V　beard。　Fawkes　might　have　passed　for　an　Aberdeen　sea　captain；　which　is　exactly　what　he　was　before　being　a　Natal　farmer。
　〃Two　days！〃　he　exclaimed　in　a　booming　Scots　accent。　〃I　canna　afford　to　take　two　days　away　from　the　farm。　It's　inhuman；　aye；　that's　what　it　is；　inhuman。〃　Miraculously；　the　tea　in　the　cup　he　waved　refused　to　slop　over　the　brim。
　〃If　the　Minister　of　Defence　personally　asked　to　meet　with　you；　the　least　you　can　do　is　oblige。〃
　〃But　damn；　woman；　he　does　not　know　what　he's　asking。〃　Fawkes　shook　his　head。　〃We're　in　the　midst　of　clearing　new　acreage。　That　prize　bull　I　purchased　in　Durban　last　month　is　due　to　arrive　tomorrow。　The　tractors　need　maintenance。　No；　I　canna　go。〃
　〃You'd　best　be　getting　the　four…wheel…drive　warmed　up。〃　Myrna　Fawkes　laid　down　her　needlework　and　gazed　up　at　her　husband。　〃I've　already　packed　your　things　and　made　a　lunch　to　keep　you　in　a　good　humor　until　you　meet　the　Minister's　train　at　Pembroke。〃
　Fawkes　towered　over　his　wife　and　scowled。　It　was　a　wasted　gesture。　In　twenty…five　years　she　had　yet　to　buckle　before　him。　Out　of　stubbornness　he　tried　a　new　tack。
　〃It　would　be　negligent　of　me　to　leave　you　and　the　kids　alone；　what　with　all　them　damned　heathen　terrorists　sneaking　through　the　brush　and　murdering　God…fearing　Christians　right　and　left。〃
　〃Aren't　you　confusing　an　insurgency　with　a　holy　war？〃
　〃Why；　just　the　other　day；〃　Fawkes　pushed　on；　〃a　farmer　and　his　missus　was　ambushed　over　at　Umoro。〃
　〃Umoro　is　eighty　miles　away；〃　his　wife　said　matter…of…factly。
　〃It　could　happen　here　just　as　well。〃
　〃You　will　go　to　Pembroke　and　you　will　visit　with　the　Defence　Minis…ter。〃　The　words　that　came　from　the　woman　seemed　chiseled　in　stone。　〃I　have　better　things　to　do　than　sit　around　on　the　veranda　all　morning　and　palaver　with　you；　Patrick　Fawkes。　Now　get　on　your　way；　and　stay　out　of　them　Pembroke　saloons。〃
　Myrna　Fawkes　was　not　a　woman　to　ignore。　Though　she　was　lean　and　tiny；　she　possessed　the　toughness　of　two　good　men。　Fawkes　seldom　knew　her　when　she　wasn't　dressed　in　one　of　his　outsized　khaki　shirts　and　blue　jeans　tucked　into　midcalf　boots。　She　could　do　almos