Read Online Vortex by Larry Bond - Free Book Online Page B

stood near the bed, clad only in a delicate lace bra and panties. Slowly, provocatively, she swiveled to face him, her arms held out.
    “Well, what do you think?”
    Ian felt a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he stepped forward and took her in his arms. Her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest.
    “I think that we aren’t going to make it to the mountain today.

    ”

    She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
    “Oh, good. I hoped you would say that.”
    He sank back, pulling her gently onto the bed.
    “You know,” he said teasingly, “for a good Afrikaner girl, you’re becoming incredibly forward. I must be corrupting you. ”
    Emily shook her head slightly and Ian felt his skin tingle as her hair brushed against his face.
    “That isn’t true, my darling. I am what I have really always been. Here in Cape Town I can be free, more my true self.”
    He heard the small sadness in her words as she continued, “It is only when I am at home that I must act as nothing more than my father’s daughter.”
    Ian rolled over, carrying her with him, still locked in his arms. He looked down into her shining, deep blue eyes.
    “Then I’m very glad that you’re here with me instead.”
    She arched her back and kissed him again, more fiercely this time.
    Neither felt any further need to speak.
    JUNE 3- NYANGA BLACK TOWNSHIP , NEAR CAPE TOWN , SOUTH AFRICA
    Andrew Sebe stood quietly in line among his restless, uneasy neighbors, waiting for his turn to pass through the roadblock ahead. He felt his legs starting to tremble and fought for control. He couldn’t afford to show fear. Policemen could smell fear.
    The line inched forward as a few more people were waved past the pair of open-topped Hippo armored personnel carriers blocking the road. Squads of policemen lounged to either side of the Hippos, eyes watchful beneath peaked caps. Some carried tear gas guns, others fondled long-handled whips, and several cradled shotguns. Helmeted crewmen stood ready behind water cannon mounted on the wheeled APCs.
    Hundreds of men and women, a few in wrinkled suits or dresses, others in faded and stained coveralls, jammed the narrow streets running between
    Nyanga Township’s ramshackle houses. All had missed their morning buses to Cape Town while policemen at the roadblock painstakingly checked identity cards and work permits. Now they were late for work and many would find their meager pay docked by
    inconvenienced and irate employers. But they were all careful to conceal their anger. No matter which way the winds of reform blew in Pretoria and
    Cape Town, the police still dealt harshly with suspected troublemakers.
    The line inched forward again.
    “You! Come here. ” One of the officers checking papers waved Andrew Sebe over.
    Heart thudding, Sebe shuffled forward and handed the man his well-thumbed passbook and the forged work authorization he’d kept hidden for just this occasion.
    He heard pages turning as the policeman flicked through his documents.
    “You’re going to the du Plessis winery? Up in the Hex Rivierberge?”
    “Yes, baas.” Sebe kept his eyes fixed on the ground and forced himself to speak in the respectful, almost worshipful tone he’d always despised.
    “It’s past the harvest season. Why do they want you?”
    Despite the cold early-morning air, Sebe felt sweat starting to soak his shirt. Oh, God. Could they know what he really was? He risked a quick glance at his interrogator and began to relax. The man didn’t seem suspicious, just curious.
    “I don’t know for sure, baas. The Labour Exchange people just said they wanted a digger, that’s all.”
    The policeman nodded abruptly and tossed his papers back.
    “Right. Then you’d better get on your way, hadn’t you?”
    Sebe folded his documents carefully and walked on, his mumbled thanks unheard as a South African Airways jumbo jet thundered low overhead on final approach to the airport barely a mile away.
    The policeman watched through