the armed men in the jeep kickedand pushed Adwana and the other two men out on to the ground, shouting and jabbing their rifles threateningly at them the whole time.
‘We have to save them,’ whispered Two Moons.
Nelson shook his head. ‘We can’t,’ he said. ‘If we step in now we blow the operation. Our mission is to save Mwanga.’
A man came striding from the hotel. The unit realised from the way the armed men stepped back to clear a path for him that this must be the bandits’ leader, Justis Ngola. Ngola was shorter than many of the men, but even from this distance he seemed to give off an energy and an impression of raw violence. Gold Headband – Ngola’s cousin – was just a hoodlum by comparison.
Ngola was dressed in camouflage fatigues with army boots. On one hip was a handgun in a holster; on his other hip hung a machete.
The armed guards had stepped back to form a circle round Adwana and the two other bound men, who cowered on the ground. Ngola glared down atthe men, and then shouted a question at them.
‘What’s he saying?’ asked Nelson.
‘He wants to know what happened to his cousin and the others.’
Adwana said something, obviously making an appeal, but Ngola cut it short by hitting Adwana across the face with the back of his hand and snapping something back at him.
‘Adwana said he doesn’t know,’ Mitch translated. ‘He says they found the jeep in the jungle and brought it back to their village. Ngola says he’s lying.’
Ngola waved his fist threateningly at Adwana, and then fired off a burst of angry questions. Once again, Adwana appealed, but Ngola just kicked him in the ribs, making him double over in pain.
‘Ngola wants to know where the Yankee soldiers are,’ Mitch said. ‘Adwana says he doesn’t know any Yankee soldiers.’
Ngola snapped out an order, and his armed men hauled the three prisoners to their feet and draggedthem to a group of trees. They tied each prisoner to one of the trees. Then Ngola pulled his handgun from his holster and stood in front of Adwana, shouting at him and pointing the gun directly at Adwana’s face. Desperately, Adwana pulled at the ropes holding him to the tree trunk, shaking his head and begging. Even without Mitch translating it was obvious that Adwana was denying everything.
Ngola glared at him, and then suddenly turned towards the man tied to the tree next to Adwana, aimed his gun, and fired twice.
14
The sound of the two gunshots echoed through the jungle. The men of Delta Unit watched from their hiding place in angry silence as the villager Ngola had just killed slumped lifeless from the ropes that held him to the tree trunk. Blood dripped down from his body. Ngola’s first shot had taken him in the chest, the second in the head.
Two Moons raised his rifle and aimed it at Ngola, but Nelson put his hand on the barrel and pushed it down, shaking his head.
‘Not yet,’ he whispered.
‘Those people helped us!’ snapped Two Moons.
‘Our mission is to rescue Mwanga,’ Nelson reminded him.
‘We can shoot Ngola right now and rescue him!’ insisted Two Moons.
‘And take unnecessary casualties because the rest of his gang will know we’re here?’ countered Nelson. ‘We can’t fire-fight our way into a defended building like that. Not six against thirty. We’ve got to be clever about it.’
Two Moons scowled, then nodded. He knew Nelson was right, as did the rest of Delta Unit.
Ngola thrust the barrel of his gun into Adwana’s face and shouted angrily at him again. Adwana looked terrified, but he shook his head, his voice desperate and pleading. Ngola smashed the gun into Adwana’s face and blood poured from his nose and on to his torn shirt.
Then Ngola turned on his heel and stomped angrily back to the hotel. The unit didn’t need Mitch’s translation to understand that Ngola had been giving Adwana a warning: tell us what we want to know, or you and the other man will die as well. Two of the guards
‘We have to save them,’ whispered Two Moons.
Nelson shook his head. ‘We can’t,’ he said. ‘If we step in now we blow the operation. Our mission is to save Mwanga.’
A man came striding from the hotel. The unit realised from the way the armed men stepped back to clear a path for him that this must be the bandits’ leader, Justis Ngola. Ngola was shorter than many of the men, but even from this distance he seemed to give off an energy and an impression of raw violence. Gold Headband – Ngola’s cousin – was just a hoodlum by comparison.
Ngola was dressed in camouflage fatigues with army boots. On one hip was a handgun in a holster; on his other hip hung a machete.
The armed guards had stepped back to form a circle round Adwana and the two other bound men, who cowered on the ground. Ngola glared down atthe men, and then shouted a question at them.
‘What’s he saying?’ asked Nelson.
‘He wants to know what happened to his cousin and the others.’
Adwana said something, obviously making an appeal, but Ngola cut it short by hitting Adwana across the face with the back of his hand and snapping something back at him.
‘Adwana said he doesn’t know,’ Mitch translated. ‘He says they found the jeep in the jungle and brought it back to their village. Ngola says he’s lying.’
Ngola waved his fist threateningly at Adwana, and then fired off a burst of angry questions. Once again, Adwana appealed, but Ngola just kicked him in the ribs, making him double over in pain.
‘Ngola wants to know where the Yankee soldiers are,’ Mitch said. ‘Adwana says he doesn’t know any Yankee soldiers.’
Ngola snapped out an order, and his armed men hauled the three prisoners to their feet and draggedthem to a group of trees. They tied each prisoner to one of the trees. Then Ngola pulled his handgun from his holster and stood in front of Adwana, shouting at him and pointing the gun directly at Adwana’s face. Desperately, Adwana pulled at the ropes holding him to the tree trunk, shaking his head and begging. Even without Mitch translating it was obvious that Adwana was denying everything.
Ngola glared at him, and then suddenly turned towards the man tied to the tree next to Adwana, aimed his gun, and fired twice.
14
The sound of the two gunshots echoed through the jungle. The men of Delta Unit watched from their hiding place in angry silence as the villager Ngola had just killed slumped lifeless from the ropes that held him to the tree trunk. Blood dripped down from his body. Ngola’s first shot had taken him in the chest, the second in the head.
Two Moons raised his rifle and aimed it at Ngola, but Nelson put his hand on the barrel and pushed it down, shaking his head.
‘Not yet,’ he whispered.
‘Those people helped us!’ snapped Two Moons.
‘Our mission is to rescue Mwanga,’ Nelson reminded him.
‘We can shoot Ngola right now and rescue him!’ insisted Two Moons.
‘And take unnecessary casualties because the rest of his gang will know we’re here?’ countered Nelson. ‘We can’t fire-fight our way into a defended building like that. Not six against thirty. We’ve got to be clever about it.’
Two Moons scowled, then nodded. He knew Nelson was right, as did the rest of Delta Unit.
Ngola thrust the barrel of his gun into Adwana’s face and shouted angrily at him again. Adwana looked terrified, but he shook his head, his voice desperate and pleading. Ngola smashed the gun into Adwana’s face and blood poured from his nose and on to his torn shirt.
Then Ngola turned on his heel and stomped angrily back to the hotel. The unit didn’t need Mitch’s translation to understand that Ngola had been giving Adwana a warning: tell us what we want to know, or you and the other man will die as well. Two of the guards
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