Hyena Dawn Read Free Page B

black. Maybe a Russian or a Cuban. If he was Russian it would be a rare capture; the Russians usually only took high-command positions in the cities.
    The terr opened his eyes and smiled at them.
    ‘ I’ve made it.’
     
    The words had hardly left Rayne’s mouth when he received a savage blow across the face. He muttered his name and regiment as the blood trickled down from his mouth.
    ‘ Captain Rayne Gallagher. Selous Scouts. Get Major Martin Long. He’ll know me.’
    They tied him to a tree and left two men to guard him, not taking any chances. The rest disappeared into the bush.
    He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want to antagonise them. They thought he was lying to save his skin. He kept his eyes closed.
    The time began to drag. He wondered if they had just gone off to fetch more supplies. Perhaps they were just trying to faze him before they started the interrogation. He shook his head at the thought; he knew about interrogations; he’d conducted many himself.
    After about two hours the commanding officer returned. He walked up to him. Rayne looked him square in the face.
    Lieutenant Roy Brown RLI examined his captive closely. He had just spoken to Major Long of the Selous Scouts on the radio, and now he had to check out the visual description he had been given. He didn’t like the look in the penetrating blue eyes that were staring at him. It was the look of a killer.
    He pulled the man’s hair back and saw that the roots were blond beneath the dye and the muck. The face was covered by a thick, dark beard. He felt the line of the man’s jaw - firm and hardset. The eyes were positioned well back behind the eyebrows. Everything about the face projected strength. The neck was made up of cords of hard muscle and sat squarely on powerful shoulders. The body was superb. Well over six foot, he thought. He tore open the battle smock to reveal rippling stomach muscles. Only a diagonal scar going right across the belly-button marred an otherwise perfect torso. The skin was dark and deeply tanned. When Brown slammed his fist hard into the man’s stomach, it was like hitting a wet sand-bag. The man didn’t even register the blow, just looked at him.
    ‘ Welcome home, Captain Gallagh - ’
    He didn’t get to complete the sentence. The man’s good leg shot out and hit him hard in the pit of the stomach. He collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.
    ‘ Untie me, you bastards.’
    The two guards quickly released Rayne from the tree he was haltered to. He staggered towards the prostrate form of Lieutenant Roy Brown, then he blacked out.
     
    Once again he felt the early morning sunlight on his face. He didn’t know where he was, but he remembered all too vividly the faces of the terrs who had nearly killed him. He tried to strike out with his left arm but got nowhere because it was strapped firmly to his side.
    ‘ Oh fuck.’
    ‘ Easy there, Captain Gallagher. You’re going to be all right. You were given a shot of morphine to put you out. Lieutenant Roy Brown has two broken ribs which’ll teach him not to throw his weight around in future. A helicopter should be here any moment. Please relax. You’ll be back in Salisbury soon. You’ll be OK. I’ve checked your leg, the bullet will come out easy. There’s no infection. Bloody miracle you didn’t lose it.’
    The man was interrupted by a shadow falling across them both. The helicopter roared down from the sky, a dirty green K-car bristling with armaments, a troop-carrier that struck fear into the heart of every terrorist. Rayne was securely strapped on a metal stretcher and then hoisted carefully into the K-car. He saw Lieutenant Roy Brown follow him into the hold. He felt no remorse; the man should never have hit him in the stomach. The helicopter began to rise above the thick green bush that lay like a giant mat across the Thrasher operational area.
    Rayne smelt something familiar - a perfume that roused him from the morphine-induced stupor that