"About four. Are you going to take me to low tea?"
Alex laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Me, Alex Aubin, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, having low tea at the Victoria Falls Hotel. Who'd have thought it? You know, I was voted to be the kid most likely to be in jail for crimes against humanity."
"And I bet you were proud of it."
"Hey, attitude was everything in my old neighbourhood. Are we going to have watercress and cucumber sandwiches and cups of Indian tea to wash them down with?"
"I hope not. They usually serve smoked salmon, cream cheese with herbs, and a duck pate on sandwich fingers, and of course, a great assortment of pastries and petit fours. It comes on a three-tiered china serving plate."
"Oh, boy, this sounds good. Where are my crutches? Don't stand between me and my petit fours, whatever they are."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Small, fancy, iced cakes."
"I knew that," Alex said as she struggled to her feet and went to freshen up.
"Sure you did."
"Okay, show-off, why is it called a low tea if it was for the upper class, then? I bet you don't know that," Alex shouted from the bathroom.
Sarah leaned on the door frame. "Am I not an anthropologist? Do I not study cultures? In the Victorian Age, the rich had low tea at four because it was served at a coffee table—a low table. Around eight or nine, they would have their meal. The poor couldn't afford the luxury of an afternoon snack. They had a simple high tea or dinner at around five or six o'clock. It was a high tea because it was served at a dinner table—a high table."
Alex limped over and took the toothbrush out of her mouth. She gave Sarah a minty peck on the lips. "My partner is a genius."
"Your partner is hungry, so hurry up." Sarah sat on their veranda while Alex finished getting ready.
* * *
A half hour later found them on the wonderful Victorian terrace overlooking the gardens, sipping tea and enjoying the pretty, delectable sandwich fingers. Alex picked up the pot to pour their tea. "Why do we put milk in tea?"
"I don't. But the custom comes from colonial times. When the British lost their hold of the colonies in the Far East, they were no longer able to import the mild Chinese teas of which they were very fond. They had to use Indian tea instead, which was much darker and stronger. It was then that the practice of putting a spot of milk in the tea to give it a milder taste came into use."
"Leave it to you to know. I'll catch you on something, though."
"No, you won't." Sarah ran her fingers through her hair nervously. "Listen, this is going to sound really nutty but... Nah, never mind."
"What?"
"I thought I saw James Phillips. I mean this man's hair was dark, and he was dressed like a tourist, and I only really saw him for a second as he walked away..." Sarah's voice faded as she realized how incredible her information sounded.
Alex rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "He had to have gone somewhere. He couldn't have easily taken an international flight without being noticed, but it would be much easier to move from one African country to another on local flights. This would be a pretty nice place to hang out until the heat was off. Then he could slip into South Africa and from there travel almost anywhere."
"So you don't think I am crazy?"
"Oh, you're crazy, all right. Look who you hang out with."
Sarah pulled a face at her.
"It's likely you made a mistake in thinking it was Phillips, but you might not have. It wouldn't hurt to be on guard and keep a lookout." Alex took a sip of tea and continued. "While I was in hospital, I asked the investigating officials a lot of questions and got no answers. Was it Phillips who set up the terrorist attack, or was he used by Cattleman? For that matter, were they working together?"
Sarah played with her napkin absently as she considered. "It was general knowledge that Phillips had or was working for Intelligence. I guess I figured since he had asked me to carry the binocular case that he was a traitor who had gone over to the other side."
"That was my initial reaction, too, but now I'm not so sure. Where is Cattleman, and why wouldn't anyone answer my questions about him? If Phillips has been with Intelligence all these years, why would he sell out now? And why is no one talking? Why were we told to keep our mouths shut? Someone tries to blow an American senator to bits, and it doesn't even make the news. What the hell is going on?"
"I think if we knew why our room was searched and who sent us that warning, we'd be able to fit the pieces together."
"The sooner you're out of here, the better. I hate like hell the thoughts of going back to Canada without you. Somehow, you've managed to get caught up in some very nasty business."
"Phillips or someone used me as a mule to carry that bomb. My usefulness as a sucker is over. I'm safe enough."
Chapter 17
Over the next few days, Sarah and Alex relaxed and recovered in the luxury of the fine old hotel. Alex bought a cane elaborately carved with African animals and if she wore a brace on her knee, she was able to walk about a bit without her crutches. Their lovemaking was a little restricted by their injuries, but no less passionate.
It was on their fourth day that Sarah once again caught sight of Phillips. They had taken a taxi to the little tourist town. Alex was manoeuvring herself out of the back seat of the old Toyota when Sarah grabbed her with her good arm. "Over there," she said, rolling her eyes in the direction she wanted Alex to look.
Phillips came to where they were. "Get back into the car. We need to talk."
"I don't think so," Alex said, looking for a way to escape if they should need to.
"The bar, then. I'll buy you a drink. Let's just get off the main street," Phillips said. "This is all very awkward. I shouldn't be talking to you. Why you've ended up here, I have no idea. Unless... Just come on." Phillips turned on his heel and hurried across the road to an open air bar under an old gum tree.
Sarah spoke first. "It seems safe enough so long as we watch our drinks. I want to hear what the bastard has to say."
Phillips had ordered three beers and a glass of tomato juice. He stood when Alex and Sarah arrived. "I think this conversation will go a lot smoother and quicker if you just hear me out."
"All right, but you'd better talk quickly and have some damn good answers, because Alex and I are really looking forward to seeing you behind bars."
Sarah poured tomato juice in Alex's and her beers. Phillips took a sip of his own malt.
"Why do the English drink their beer warm?" Alex's off-topic question caused Phillips to blink in surprise.
Sarah, however, didn't even look up from stirring her beer and tomato with a teaspoon. "It's a different brewing process. North Americans prefer lagers, which are beers that are fermented from the bottom. This produces a more flavourful beer when chilled. In Europe, ales are preferred. With ale, the fermenting takes place at the top. The result is a beer that tastes better when it's served at cellar temperature. That's three out of three," she said to Alex, "not that I'm keeping score." She looked Phillips in the eye. Now, James, we'd really like to know why you tried to kill us." She hoped Phillips's answer would be sufficient to keep Alex from battering him with her cane.
"I didn't, although I'll admit that I tried to use you. You were to pass the case you were carrying to Margaret. That was the signal. The senator would then ask to see the binoculars and remove the cheque. I was asked for my assistance in a certain operation, you see. The senator is here to try and peddle used military equipment to organizations which other government agencies might not want to get those weapons. I was hired to make sure the guns got to the right people rather than the wrong ones."
"Sure," Alex said. Sarah saw her grip tightening on her cane. "That was an awfully careless 'operation.' It damn near killed us both."
"The case, when I packed it, contained a pair of binoculars and a certified cheque for two hundred thousand American dollars. A down payment on a shipment of guns, grenades, and ammunition that the senator was to use his influence to obtain."
Alex leaned across the table. "Well, it didn't bounce—it exploded."
Sarah put her hand on Alex's leg to calm her down. She was having trouble swallowing this story, too, but she wanted to keep Phillips talking. The more he talked, the greater the chance of seeing a mistake in his account and maybe getting some real answers. "So what went wrong?"
"I don't know. A double-double-cross, I suppose. The group I represent had managed to convince the senator's people that we were the group he needed to deal with. I delivered the case to the camp the night before your flight. I can only assume whoever sent you the letter of warning knew of our plans to make a deal with the American and booby-trapped the case."
"Why? If they wanted to make a deal with the senator, why blow him up, and why jeopardize the operation by warning me off?"
"The plan had been compromised. If the senator talked, their organization might suddenly find themselves in a difficult situation. If the senator died, he couldn't talk. If he lived, he'd be less inclined to talk if he knew the possible consequences. Why were you warned? Because it's Cattleman, Sarah, and he has a soft spot for you."
Sarah felt Alex's muscles tighten under her hand. Alex's voice was raspy with anger. "You've got a smooth answer for everything, haven't you?
"I'm being unusually open. I'm a desperate man. I need leads to who needs the weapons and why. I might be running out of time. I want those guns going to the group I represent."
"Don't expect us to help you. Damn it, James, I trusted you, called you a friend, and you almost got us killed. Alex only survived by luck. If..." Sarah's voice broke. Her lips were thin and pale. She had been scared as hell when they were hoisting Alex back into the basket. She pushed her glass away in disgust and stood. "We won't help you." Alex struggled to her feet beside her.
Phillips stood and backed up a few steps. He smiled, almost sadly. "But you might already have. He or one of his comrades might have seen us talking and now believes that we're conspiring against him. That will force his hand."
"You're a bastard, Phillips." Alex could barely contain her rage.
The man chuckled. "No, no, just a chap who would like to retire comfortably, at all costs." Phillips turned and hurried away. The women watched him threading his way up the dusty street until he disappeared around a corner of a grimy stucco building.
"What now?" Alex finally asked.
"I don't think he told us the whole truth, if any. We just go on with our original plan and refuse to play their game. There isn't much else we can do. It sounds like the senator was here to make an arms deal with one group, then Phillips's bunch somehow managed to cut in on that deal. The senator must have thought he was still dealing with the first organization. I wonder how many groups are after those guns and why they want them. I think somehow we got ourselves involved in a very nasty business. "
"Look, Sarah, let me buy you a ticket to Canada. We could be on the next plane out."
Sarah shook her head. "I've put in three years here. I'm not throwing that time away by not finishing my study properly. And I am not going to let the likes of Phillips scare me off."
Alex took Sarah's arm. "Sarah, this is a very dangerous game. Don't be so stubborn. You could end up moulding in an African prison for a crime you didn't do, or worse, you might end up dead. I can't go back to Canada and leave you in such danger."
Sarah pulled her arm free of Alex's hold. "Don't try to run my life, Alex."
They spent the rest of the afternoon doing the stores in the town. The tourist shops sold everything from crudely carved wooden animals to elaborate reproductions of ancient spirit masks, delicately carved ostrich eggs, crocodile skin shoes and purses, and amazing jewellery of semi precious stones, or more expensive pieces of gold, diamonds, and emeralds. Gradually, their interest in the exotic and beautiful African wares lessened the tension between them. At one of the larger government tourist stores, Alex bought a number of carved masks.
"How are you going to get this all home?" Sarah asked.
Alex looked up from signing a traveller's cheque. "They're going to ship it for me. I want our home to reflect just as much your interests as mine."
Sarah gave Alex a big hug. "You're one in a million."
Sarah looked up into Alex's eyes. They looked almost a light grey in the store light. "I'm sorry I bit your head off back at the bar. I know you were only worried about me. Thanks for caring."
Alex gave Sarah's back a reassuring rub. "I was getting all controlling again. You know the situation here a lot better than I do. I trust your judgement. All I ask is that you be very careful."
They hailed a taxi for the short distance back to the hotel. Alex's knee was throbbing, and she told Sarah that she was looking forward to washing the dust off and putting her leg up for a while. Sarah found her cast hot and uncomfortable and had every intention of sharing both the shower and the bed for an afternoon nap.
Chapter 18
A long lazy afternoon settled into evening. Sarah kissed Alex's lips, tasting their lovemaking. "I love you."
Alex idly combed her fingers through the curls of Sarah's sex. "Love you, too."
Sarah snuggled down close. "Try not to worry. I'll be back in Canada in a few months. Everything is going to be all right here and with us."
Alex nodded, but there was no conviction in her eyes. "1 don't have much time left. The thought of leaving you behind hurts like hell."
"I know, love. We were meant to be together. We always have been."
Alex took Sarah's hand and kissed her fingers. "What did you think of what Phillips had to say?"
Sarah flopped back onto her pillow. "Some things struck me as unusual. First, it doesn't seem logical that the senator would be making an arms deal without the consent of the government. So if we assume that the government sent Cardale, then Phillips has to be working for someone—or some government—that doesn't want those guns sold to the legitimate buyer."
Alex propped herself up on one elbow. "So what do you think?"
"World powers are fair-weather friends. Kenya is an old British colony. The terrorist attacks against the American embassies indicate sympathy towards some extremist causes by groups working in Kenya. The US might want to supply weapons to organizations opposed to such extremism, where Britain might see that as a threat to the stability of the region."
"That would explain why the bomb on the hot air balloon was kept quiet and why no one would answer our questions. Quiet subversive activities are one thing, an open disagreement between
world powers is quite another. Especially when those powers are supposed to be showing a united front against terrorism," Alex said.
"Of course, it could be another group entirely. Phillips might be telling the truth, but he might not. I plan just to stay out of it."
"What if Cattleman does show up?"
"I still plan to stay out of it," Sarah said. "Come on, lover, get dressed. I need food."
* * *
Several days went by with no sight of either Phillips or Cattleman. The women, caught up in enjoying their time together, tried to put the whole unpleasant incident behind them and focus on the time they had left before they needed to part again.
One morning Sarah slammed into their room looking worried and upset. "Shit!"
"What's up?" Alex asked.
Sarah flopped down onto the couch. "I just saw the Cardale group arriving while I was down buying a paper. And guess who was with them?"
Alex limped out of the bathroom. "Phillips?"
"Nope, Cattleman."
"Cattleman!"
"All dressed up in a suit and looking very serious and conservative. Alex, he looked right at me and walked on as if I wasn't there."
"Are you sure it was him? Did you get a really good look?"
"It was him, all right. Damn. Now what?"
Alex came over and lowered herself onto the couch. "Now nothing. We stay out of it. Agreed?"
Sarah kissed Alex's cheek. "Agreed."
It wasn't five minutes later when the phone rang. Sarah answered it. "Hello."
"Hi Sarah. It is John Cattleman. I saw you downstairs. Actually, I had been told that you were staying here. I'd like a chance to talk to you. Can I come up to your room?"
Alex went to Sarah's side. Sarah held the phone so they both could hear. "Let me guess. You want to tell me that Cardale is here to make an important arms deal, and that deal is either to or against your favour. You didn't set the bomb that nearly killed us, and seeing as you're sure there are no hard feelings, perhaps Alex and I
wouldn't mind being the suckers in yet another harebrained scheme."
There was a long silence and then John's voice came through the line again. "Let me guess. You've had a meeting with James Phillips."
"Didn't you already know that?" Sarah asked.
"Yes, I knew. Do you want to hear my version of the truth?"
Sarah answered for them both. "Okay, but not up here, down in the lounge in ten minutes."
"That's rather public."
"There or nowhere."
John sighed in frustration. "Very will, the lounge in ten minutes."
Sarah put the phone down and shivered. Alex pulled her against her chest, wrapping Sarah in a protective embrace. "You sure you want to hear him out?"
Sarah turned in Alex's arms and kissed her. "Equal time, I guess. I'm curious to hear his version. I just don't want to get caught up in anything. It looks like Phillips was right. Our drink with him brought Cattleman here."
"Maybe, maybe not. He might have been coming anyway. He certainly had been warned that the three of us were here. That he came anyway rather indicates he had other business here besides us. Otherwise, why come looking for trouble?"
"Good point. Well come on, Doctor, let's go find out what the other team has to say."
* * *
The main lounge of the Victoria Falls Hotel opened out through a row of French doors onto the terrace overlooking the gardens. It was a large, bright room decorated with over-stuffed chairs and sofas in pastel flower motifs. These were accented by a large fireplace and a wonderful assortment of antique wooden tables.
Cattleman stood as the women entered. "Sarah, Alex, I am relieved to see you looking so well. I've been worried. Please." He indicated three chairs that had been pushed around a small coffee table. "I've ordered tea."
"Did you also order a bomb?" Sarah asked.
"No. I knew a while ago that the secrecy around the arms deal had been compromised and at that time, I called off the transaction and sent a warning to you."
"You sent the warning?"
"Yes. I was aware that Phillips was dogging you, and there had to be a reason for that. I suspected that he was involved in some way with the arms deal, but I didn't know how. I searched your room in Nairobi but couldn't find anything to tie you to Phillips. Still, I felt I couldn't take the chance, so I called off the contact I had planned with the senator and waited for someone to make a move."
"So you ordered the guns from Cardale and planned to use Sarah as an expendable decoy. Then you got cold feet at the last minute and decided to blow up all the evidence, including a friend."
Cattleman waited to answer as the waiter approached and set down a lovely bone china tea set on a silver tray. Once the tea was poured and the waiter had left again, Cattleman looked directly at Alex. "I didn't set the bomb. Nor did 1 originally order the arms. I would really like to know who did, though. I would certainly have liked to cut into that deal and buy those arms to make sure they didn't fall into hands that might use them against the present government."
Sarah flopped back in her chair with annoyance. "Look, one of you set that bomb."
Cattleman looked at Sarah. "I thought it was Phillips. He recently decided to retire, and I was wondering on what. Those in his profession," Cattleman emphasized this word with contempt, "don't usually retire. They make a mistake or are pulled from the field because they can't do the job anymore."
"Why would the British want the arms? That doesn't make sense," Alex said.
Cattleman played with his teaspoon. "I think Phillips was doing some moonlighting, maybe for the local white farmers. They are damn nervous about what they've seen happening in Zimbabwe."
"So Phillips made the arms deal using his government contacts for a private interest group here in Kenya, and when he realized you knew about it, he covered his ass by giving me a bomb to carry instead of a cheque?"
"No, I think it was more complex than that," Cattleman said. Sarah thought he looked less stressed; still she knew he'd be very careful how he handled this. He clearly needed them to cooperate.
"So suppose you tell us what is really going on," Alex said, testily.
"I think a third party is involved. Someone with ties to the fundamentalist movement that's sweeping Northern Africa. Phillips and I were both trying to cut into the action, thinking erroneously that we were playing against each other. All along it was someone else trying to broker a deal. Nor were our efforts secret, except from each other. Someone knew that we were trying to cut in and set us both up for a very nasty and embarrassing political situation."
"Not to mention our deaths," Alex added.
"Why are you telling us all this?" Sarah asked.
"I need a lead. I need to know who else would have known you had booked the balloon flight on the same day as the senator."
Sarah stared in disbelief. "You lot are unbelievable. You're not going to get anywhere with this. Anyone at the camp would have known. Paul and the others in Nairobi would know, as would anyone working for the balloon excursion company. It could have been one of hundreds of people. What I will tell you is that Alex and I want to be left alone. We will not help you or anyone else with this mad game."
It seemed to Sarah that the tension left Cattleman's body. Had she unwittingly given him the lead he needed?
"Does anyone know you're here?" Cattleman asked.
"That's common knowledge, too," Sarah replied. "I made the booking through our Nairobi office, of course, and the people at the camp knew. Why?"
Cattleman stood. "I thank you for hearing me out. I hope not to have to bother you again. I would warn you, though, be on your guard. Too many people know you are here. You might not believe this but I am very relieved to see you both recovering so well from your accident."
"It wasn't an accident," Alex corrected. "It was attempted murder."
Cattleman's eyes met hers. "Then heed my warning. Be careful. Good day, ladies."
A shiver ran through both women. Sarah reached for Alex's hand. "Damn, he scared me a lot more than Phillips."
Alex gave Sarah's hand a squeeze. "Yeah, me too, but I think we made it quite clear that we were out of this game."
* * #
Cattleman walked across the inner courtyard and through the main lobby. Once outside, he made his way down the road to the railway station. The Blue Train from South Africa wouldn't arrive for another two hours. Only one man sat reading a news paper in the waiting room. Cattleman went over and sat beside him. Phillips folded his paper and put it down on the empty chair on the other side of him. "Well?"
"I think the ladies have baited the hook. All we need do is wait," Cattleman said.
Phillips stood and shook his pant legs down. "Don't let it bother you, old man. Once it starts to bother you, you only have two choices: the bottle or the bullet."
"Who do you think he'll hit first?"
Phillips eyed Cattleman. He had the intelligence and skills, but he got far too emotionally involved. "He'll go for Sarah first. She's an easy hit, and he has to make sure she doesn't make the connection to him. Once he pops Cardale, he knows he has to go on the run. Still, we'll try to cover all the bases with the people we've got." Cattleman nodded, and the two men went their separate ways.
Chapter 19
"Why do women wear high heels and men don't?" Alex asked as she rubbed suntan lotion into Sarah's back. They had just had a morning swim and were relaxing by the pool, enjoying their time together.
Sarah laughed. "Now that's a scary picture. Fashion is illogical. However, there are patterns. Women's clothes over the ages have kept them in a submissive role. Corsets, tight skirts, and long dresses make us vulnerable and easily controlled. You'll note whenever women's rights come to the forefront, women's styles become more masculine. There is also business manipulation. The shorter tops and skirts of today save manufacturers millions of dollars in fabric. Heels first appeared in Europe in Medieval times. They allowed prostitutes to be seen in the crowded streets. But heels were used at far earlier times in other cultures. For example, in China..."
"Forget it," Alex said. "You win."
"Do you think your knee is strong enough to walk along the falls this afternoon?"
Alex put the top on the lotion and leaned back in her chair. "You bet."
"Victoria Falls is where the mighty Zambezi River spills over into a deep gorge. It's the longest span of waterfalls in the world, at 5,594 feet, and has one of the deepest drops, at 328 feet. At full flood 143 gallons of water per minute crash in a continuous veil to the river below and the spray shoots over 1,500 feet into the air." Alex knew all this from reading the various tourist booklets, but nothing prepared her for the sheer, wild beauty of the location or the incredible power of the falls as they cascaded by her face. Standing soaking wet at Devil's Cataract, the bronze statue of David Livingstone not far up the path, Alex could understand why the explorer had written in his diary: "Scenes so lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight."
"Wow."
Sarah wiped her wet hair back from her face. "It's one of those things you just have to see to believe."
"I'll say." They walked along the sand path that was the only concession to tourism. Victoria Falls remained as natural as it was in 1855 when Livingstone first saw it. There were no guide rails and no sidewalks. When the sand path ran out, they walked on the very edge of the gorge over rock worn flat by time. Only a few hundred feet away, across the other side of the gorge, the falls poured in a solid sheet. Alex raised her voice over the thunder of the water. "This is amazing."
"I knew you'd like it."
Carefully, they made their way along the wet, slippery rocks, glad of the raincoats the hotel had given them. Almost blinded with the spray and deafened by the sound, they were nearly on top of the man before they noticed him.
"Hello Sarah," he called out, blocking their path.
Sarah smiled with delight. "Paul Na-tana! What are you doing here?"
He raised a gun from under his raincoat. "I've come to say good-bye." Alex dived at Sarah, and together they rolled across the rocks and through puddles. The misty world around them cracked and echoed with gunfire.
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