Dark Intent by Brian Reeve Page A

then left their spot, finally going over the path to the bottom of the valley below the road. Neither one spoke, each with his private thoughts. For a while they followed the narrow stream, occasionally driving speckled partridges from their nests in the bank and exciting a lone steel-blue kingfisher that flew up and down its domain.
    ‘Up here,’ said Krige at last, stepping agilely through the shallow waters and making for the kopje between them and the house. They positioned themselves amongst the rocks, close to where Ngubane had rested the previous night.
    ‘This is too close,’ said Dalton. ‘We might as well sit in his house.’
    ‘I told you this is where we’ d come,’ said Krige, unsheathing the rifle and laying it on the bag. ‘When their master dies at their feet they’ll be dumbstruck. We’ll be in the next valley before they start looking.’
    ‘ Very clever Major,’ said Dalton. ‘And when is he supposed to appear?’
    ‘His men spend hours around the pot every evening ,’ said Krige, getting annoyed at Dalton’s constant sarcasm and beginning to wish he was alone. ‘If he’s there he’ll join them.’
    ‘ Thanks for telling me,’ said Dalton. ‘I thought you were pushing your luck, hoping to get a shot at him. You knew all the time that he eats with his guard. You’re not one for sharing information. I suppose you know precisely how you’re going to kill the guerillas. What if they’re not there? We’ll be left standing in the dirt with our dicks in our hands.’
    If ever he had been close to annihilating someone physically, Krige knew it was now and the person was Dalton. He remembered the acrimony he had felt towards Richter and Koch on the Cartwright job and he wondered if the group could ever find men of class, the breed needed for this type of operation. His training in the police had taught him the importance of staying calm and not reacting to puerile comments however much they fuelled his native instincts. But sometimes he failed and he wondered if this was going to be one such failure. He was so close.
    ‘ The guerillas have been there for a month,’ said Krige. ‘It would be too much of a coincidence if they’ve gone when we’re about to strike.’ He checked the mount underneath the scope, fighting his impulse. ‘You sound as it you’re about to crack,’ he said. ‘You can leave. I told you I can do this job alone.’
    ‘Like hell you can, not all of them,’ said Dalton. ‘I’m interested in seeing a full score. It makes sense to keep me informed.’
    ‘For what reason? I’m doing the work,’ said Krige. ‘Perhaps you think I’ll get killed. Do you really think you can go it alone?’
    ‘ Yes,’ said Dalton, annoyed at Krige’s superior intelligence.
    ‘And now you know everything,’ said Krige coolly. ‘It’s as much as I do. There’s no certainty in this game until the corpses are at your feet in a line, going hard.’
    Krige turned then suddenly bent lower. ‘Get down. The place is coming to life.’ He held the binoculars on the yard between the house and the quarters. ‘There’re twelve of them and no sign of Shozi.’ He gave the glasses to Dalton and took the magazine from a pocket in the bag. He inserted it into the rifle and, rotating the bolt, shunted one of the cartridges into the breech. Making himself comfortable, he poked the weapon through a V in the rocks and placed his eye to the lens.
    For over an hour they silently watched the activities in the yard and long shadows were beginning to disfigure the valley when Krige inched his trigger finger forwards. ‘Our man’s arrived,’ he said in a monotone. ‘He’s just come out of the house with someone else.’
    Dalton lifted himself carefully. ‘Which one is he?’
    ‘I showed you his picture.’ Krige stabbed at the safety catch with his thumb. ‘He’s the one on the left. Do you still want him to die? He hates the ANC.’
    ‘He’ s a kaffir,’ said Darlton