They came to rest in a small hollow. The firing had stopped. Alex whispered into Sarah's ear. "Don't move. Stay quiet." Then cautiously she raised her head and looked around. Nothing but white mist and black rock. Her heart seemed to pound as loudly as the falls, and her knee throbbed like hell. She wiped the spray from her face and tried to shield her eyes with a hand. Now she could make out Paul's still form sprawled on the rock.
"You okay?" Sarah whispered.
"Yeah. You?"
"I'm all right. The cast protected my arm. See anything?"
Alex shifted a bit so that Sarah was no longer under her. "Paul's body is lying over there. But there was more than one gunman. Down!" A shadowy silhouette had emerged from the spray and stood looking down at Paul's body.
He looked around. "Sarah! Alex! It's John Cattleman. It's okay. It's safe now."
"What do you think?" Alex whispered.
"I think John told us the truth—at least as much as he could. We can trust him." They helped each other up as John limped over to them. Blood oozed down the side of his leg.
"You two okay?"
"Better than you, by the look of it," Alex answered, "There were more than two guns."
Cattleman nodded. "Phillips. He's over there. Na-tana got him. He's dead." Sarah put her head against Alex's shoulder and Alex gave her a hug before she gave Cattleman first aid.
Chapter 20
Alex and Sarah watched from a distance as Cardale and his group loaded onto a bus to take them to the airport. It had been a traumatic twenty-four hours. They got up early to watch the plain wood coffin carrying the body of James Phillips loaded on the train bound to South Africa. From there, it would be transported to his final resting place in England. After years of faithful service, he had taken one last gamble and lost.
Cattleman was the last to board Cardale's bus. He was favouring his wounded leg. "It looks like Cardale won't make a deal on this trip," Sarah observed. "Cattleman is sticking to him like glue."
"I'm not too sure. Cattleman might cut a deal for the Kenyan government after all. Cardale would be hard-pressed not to agree when he's been caught making deals behind a friendly nation's back. And if Cattleman doesn't get his deal, I'm sure there'll be another time and other people willing to accept Cardale's offer."
"Third World countries are safe battlefields for world powers that escalate local issues to strengthen their own spheres of influence."
Alex gave her a hug. "The world is so interconnected on so many levels now that no country is immune from the impact of events in another. Cardale didn't know he was dealing with terrorists. He thought he was selling weapons to a group wanting to restore a more democratic government to the area. Phillips thought he could work it so that the guns ended up in the hands of the white colonials who want to protect their farms, and Cattleman wanted to cut in to get the guns for his nation. They were all playing into the hands of the fundamentalists who were playing one off another."
The bus pulled away as the women watched. They turned and went into the hotel.
"Alex?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for not giving up on us. Thanks for being here. Thanks for making a home for us."
Alex smiled at the woman she loved. Sarah looked pale and tired, but happy. "I'm the one who owes you the thanks for giving me a second chance. Having you back in my life is going to make all the difference."
* * *
A few days later, Alex boarded a plane on the first leg of her trip back to Canada. Saying good-bye was hell.
Sarah had watched the plane until it was only a tiny speck in the sky, tears rolling down her face. For the next few months, she worked frantically to finish her study. It was a melancholy time. She had come to know the Masai not as people to be studied with scientific objectivity, but as family and friends. Her years with them had taught her a respect for their rich culture and proud traditions. Africa had changed her. There, she had gained the maturity and confidence of an adult. No matter where her life took her, a part of her soul would always belong to Africa. The good-byes were painful, and when went to catch her plane, it was only the thought of her lover waiting in Canada and a research grant approved for her in Yellowknife that prevented her from succumbing to the African disease and staying.
Some months later, Alex crawled between sheets warmed by the woman she loved. "You're cold," said Sarah.
"I've been out feeding the dogs. We have a heavy frost this morning."
"Come here, let me warm you up." Alex snuggled close and leaned over to kiss her partner softly. "I love you, Sarah."
Sarah pulled her closer still. "Show me just how much for the rest of our lives."
Outside, the first soft, fluffy snowflake drifted to the ground below, melted, and ran down onto the multi-coloured lichen that clung to the rocks. More followed. Life moved on.
SOUTH AFRICA
Chapter 1
Danielle Agia stood at the arrival gate of the Cape Town, South Africa airport as she waited for Laurie Allen to step back into her life. Danny struggled to decide what to wear. In the end, she'd opted for a khaki-coloured rough cotton safari pantsuit. Under the tailored jacket, she wore a silk shirt hand-painted in swirling blues and muted greens. On her feet were well-used but highly-polished trail boots. She looked at the overhead arrival display. Laurie's plane had touched down five minutes ago after its flight from Johannesburg. Laurie would be exhausted. She had left Toronto yesterday and flown for five hours to make a plane connection in London. Then it was a twelve-hour, nonstop flight to Johannesburg and a two-hour commuter flight to Cape Town.
What would it be like to meet her again after a dozen years? Her father's farm had bordered theirs. Laurie and Danny had known each other most of their lives. Their fathers had a grudging admiration for each other, despite the fact they came from very different backgrounds. Hans Agia was a Boer. His great-greatgrandfather had been part of the Great Trek over the Four Passes to escape English rule, and his great grandfather had fought against the British in the Boer War. Sir John Allen was an English diplomat turned farmer, who had bought a vineyard near Stellenbosch on which to raise his family.
Hans Agia spoke Afrikaans and English; Sir John spoke English, French, and German. Hans Agia was an elder in the Dutch Reform Church and believed strongly in the need for apartheid. Sir John did not go to church, although he'd been raised Anglican. He was outspoken against the government's racist views and fought for the end of apartheid.
Yet the two men had agreed to disagree. Both widowers with daughters to raise, they'd found common ground in their children and in their love for their vineyards. It had been Hans Agia's considerable power that had forestalled the inevitable, but in the
end, even Hans could not protect his controversial friend. When Laurie was fourteen, Sir John Allen and his family had been put under house arrest and boycotted by their neighbours. Two years later, Allen had accepted his first and only defeat in life: selling his farm to Hans and emigrating to Canada.
Those last two years had been hell. Even though Laurie had been four years younger than Danny, they had been as close as sisters. As they got older, Danny would have liked to have been a lot closer than that. By eighteen, she knew that she loved Laurie. But lesbianism was a sin, and Laurie was just a fourteen-year-old kid. Danny had never crossed that line, even though she defied the government ban and snuck into the Allen's house to visit most nights. The two girls had been heartbroken when Sir John Allen had taken his sixteen-year-old daughter and emigrated.
For a long time, they'd kept in touch. Danny knew about Laurie's school friends, first loves, successes, and heartaches. She had offered support, guidance, and love—right up until the letter had come from Laurie announcing her marriage. Danny had sent flowers and appropriate gifts, and then had never written again. It was too painful to do so. Gradually, Laurie's letters had become less frequent until there was just a yearly Christmas card.
But two months ago, a letter had arrived. Laurie was coming back to tour her old homeland to write a series of articles for a big newspaper. She had asked Danny to join her as her friend and guide. There was no mention of a husband. Danny had accepted. Now, as she waited, Danny was having second thoughts. She knew she still harboured feelings that could never be acted on.
"Danny?"
She looked up to see Laurie standing in front of her, looking as beautiful as ever; more so really, for the years had matured her into a stunning woman.
"Laurie." Danny managed a weak, nervous smile as she felt the heat of embarrassment creep up her neck. Then Laurie was in her arms, and Danny wrapped her close, burying her face in Laurie's golden locks. Laurie's hair still carried the haunting scent of sun-dried herbs on a late summer's day. Danny's senses were flooded with memories, and she had to blink back tears. "Welcome back to South Africa."
"Oh, Danny, it's so wonderful to be here and to see you again! I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you." Danny stepped back. "You must be tired. I've booked a suite for us near the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront complex. I think you'll like it very much."
They collected Laurie's bags and walked to Danny's car. Laurie was traveling light with one large piece of luggage on wheels and a small carry-on shoulder bag. Practical and efficient; Danny appreciated that.
* * *
As they walked to the car, Laurie looked at everything around her. She took a little skip to catch up to Danny's long strides and glanced at her childhood friend. Danny slowed her pace.
Danny had been told that she had been practical, brave and adventurous as a child. She hoped she'd retained those traits, even if they were tempered with the responsibilities she now had. Yet she also knew there was a social innocence about her that tended to get her in awkward situations. She took people at face value and didn't understand how to play the social games of adults. She wondered if Laurie had changed. Had she learned to play those games? Or would she still be the honest, open person she remembered?
Danny noted right off that Laurie wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Laurie had married and had a son. Danny wished now that she hadn't stopped writing Laurie. If she hadn't, she'd know more about her. Not that Danny had been very good at writing letters. They'd been short lists of things she was doing and little bits of information about mutual friends crammed on a single page.
Danny felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she walked beside Laurie again after all these years. It was weird to be with someone whom she loved dearly, but who was a complete stranger.
Danny deactivated the alarm system before unlocking the doors of her Land Rover. Laurie waited on her side, reading the warning written in both Afrikaans and English on a sticker on the window: This car is protected with motion sensors and alarms. Do not come near! Alarms will sound and flame jets will activate if this car is tampered with.
Danny lifted Laurie's bags into the boot and opened the passenger door. Laurie seemed deep in thought as she buckled her seatbelt and waited for Danny to walk around and get in. Danny was barely settled in the car before the question came.
"Flame throwers?" Laurie asked.
"Flame jets."
In a few minutes, they were out of the airport parking lot and heading for Cape Town.
"Is carjacking a problem?" Laurie asked.
"Eighty percent of South Africa's black population lives in poverty. Poor people are desperate, angry people. With apartheid gone, there's less fear in acting on their desperation or showing their anger. You'll need to show caution. Generally, South Africa is safe, stable, and progressive, but I'd be lying if I didn't warn you that attacks and thefts are frequent."
Laurie lapsed into silence. Danny drove, trying to see South Africa as Laurie might see it. She noted the hideous contrast between the townships where many of the black population lived and the middle class and wealthy suburbs of Cape Town. The townships consisted of shacks, mostly put together piecemeal by blacks who had lived for generations in the area or had immigrated from the countryside looking for work. Electric power, sewers, and water systems were often lacking. The area around was hard-baked dirt, dotted with scrap paper and plastic bags. The townships had no garbage pickup, and the lighter material blew from the waste heaps and littered the countryside.
In contrast, the suburbs were neat, well-kept homes reflecting both English and Dutch styles of architecture. Shade trees and privacy hedges marked off property lines, but behind each was the inevitable high stone wall, topped with broken glass or barbed wire. Bright orange or yellow signs posted on the walls warned of security systems within. This was South Africa; a land of extremes. Would Laurie be able to understand that?
Danny had booked them into the beautiful five-star Table Bay Hotel that overlooked the harbour. She felt awkward being in the room together with Laurie, and excused herself, going down to buy a newspaper while Laurie freshened up and had a brief nap after her exhausting flight.
Danny sat on the balcony and filled in time until Laurie woke. When they had been kids, there had never been any embarrassment between them. They would sneak down to the Agia pool at night and swim naked in the moonlight. They dressed in front of each other and treated each other's cuts and bruises.
She knew there was something wrong with her. She was one of those humans who had been born abnormal, or perhaps it was the
result of having been raised by her father and never knowing her mother. The cause didn't matter. Danny had had to accept long ago, to her shame, that she was attracted to women and not to men.
She was raised in the Dutch Reform Church. Her father had been an elder. She knew that what she felt was a sin, and she had never given in to the temptation. She had tried to force herself to enjoy the attention of men—tried to pretend that she was pleased to have boyfriends. But she couldn't make herself enter into a serious relationship. She felt dirty and hypocritical pretending to love someone when she really felt nothing. Once her father died, she stopped dating and accepted a celibate life style. In the long run, it was easier.
Now Laurie was back, and the old feelings she had buried so deeply were racing through her system. Danny tightened her jaw. No matter what, she was not going to sin and humiliate herself by admitting to Laurie how she felt. God was testing her, and she didn't mean to fail. Besides, she didn't think she could handle it if she lost Laurie's respect.
Chapter 2
Laurie was confused at first as to where she was. A soft, cool ocean breeze drifted through the open French doors. South Africa. She had returned to her homeland. She watched Danny reading a newspaper on the balcony. Her strong, suntanned hands folded the pages with neat efficiency. My Danny. Danny had always been methodically neat, organized, and efficient. She, on the other hand, had been spontaneous and random.
Laurie looked more carefully at Danny. My God, she's beautiful! A twinge of jealousy twisted inside Laurie. Did Danny have someone in her life? Although Danny had never talked about boyfriends, Laurie knew from their fathers' correspondence that Danny had played the field. A heartbreaker, Hans Agia had complained. He had written bitterly that his only disappointment with his wonderful daughter was that she wouldn't settle down and provide him with grandchildren.
Laurie tried to imagine what it would be like to be in bed with Danny. An involuntary contraction shot through her lower extremities, and she could feel herself grow wet with need. This was not good. If she started with this nonsense, she'd never be successful in her goals. With a sigh, she threw back the covers and padded out to stand on the balcony.
"Hi."
"Hi," Danny responded. Laurie noted that Danny's eyes involuntarily followed the lines of her body under her nightdress as it was highlighted by the sun. Danny swallowed hard and quickly got to her feet. "Are you hungry? There are some nice restaurants along the waterfront complex."
"That would be good." Laurie gave Danny a hug before heading back into the room. "I'm so happy to be here with you, Danny."
Laurie noticed that Danny seemed embarrassed by the hug. She stripped off her nightdress and watched Danny out the corner of her eye as she fished in her bag for fresh clothes.
Danny cleared her throat. "It is nice to meet again." Danny turned and saw Laurie standing naked as she sorted through her luggage.
"What did you say?" Laurie asked.
Danny looked out over the balcony. "It is good to see... to visit with you after all these years. You sometimes wonder what happens to old childhood friends."
Laurie looked at Danny's back. Danny had never been embarrassed or nervous. She wondered what had brought on this change in her bold and dynamic friend.
The Victoria and Alfred docks were working docks that had been incorporated into a trendy waterfront area of boutiques, restaurants, and boardwalks. They wandered from level to level, and Laurie enjoyed the mix of designer European clothes, beautifully tailored raw cotton or silk safari wear, arts and crafts stores, and the exotic wares unique to Africa.
South Africans and tourists laughed and talked as they wove in and out of the popular area. Laurie noted that some of the well-dressed South Africans were black. Perhaps apartheid had disappeared in the new South Africa. Her cynicism returned, however, when she saw security personnel ushering two black youths out of the area and when she read a sign on one store door that read: "Only people the owners feel are dressed and acting appropriately will be allowed to enter."
"What does that mean?" Laurie asked. "Why do I think if you're black, you'll be found wanting?"
"It means exactly what it says. In Canada, do they allow people into stores who are acting inappropriately or who are dressed in a manner that doesn't meet a basic dress code?"
"Of course not, but I'm not sure that's the intent here. What about those black teens we saw security removing from the boardwalk?"
"It has to do with security not racism. There's much poverty yet in South Africa, partly due to years of apartheid, and partly due to the international boycott that, until recently, was used against this
country. Crime is high. This is a big shopping and tourist area. It will only remain so if people feel safe from pickpockets and bullies."
Laurie looked Danny straight in the eye. "The justifications slip smoothly from your mouth, Danny."
"Your cynicism seems second nature. Is that part of your reporter persona, or is that the way you've become?"
They stood toe to toe in a silent battle of wills. Laurie broke the deadlock. "I spent two years of my teens under house arrest because my father and I spoke out against the South African government's policies. Yes, I'm a bit cynical about the new South Africa. Racism is a disease not easily cured."
Danny stared across the harbour to where freighters were being loaded with cargo. "I won't lie to you. Many still believe apartheid is good and that blacks aren't fit to rule this land. But those attitudes are changing. The new laws allow everyone, black, mixed heritage, or white, an equal opportunity to prosper. Blacks have every chance now to make something of themselves and this nation. The future looks good for us."
"I don't know if I share your optimism," Laurie admitted.
"Perhaps that's because you're the racist, Laurie."
"What?"
"You think blacks can't make a place for themselves in this country. That they would allow themselves to continue to be treated as second-class citizens. You carry the white man's burden that you have to fight the social battles for the poor, childlike black. Bull! The South African black is intelligent, hardworking, and ambitious. I believe South Africa will be a strong, competitive nation. They don't need bleeding hearts to fight their battles for them."
"Bleeding hearts! You sound like your grandfather. It was world pressure that finally forced the release of Nelson Mandela and brought about true reciprocity in South Africa," Laurie said.
"Yes, world opinion and the boycott did have an influence, but it was the changing attitude among the whites in South Africa and the growing social influence of the middle class and professional blacks that really brought about the change. Do you think me a racist, Laurie, because I'm a South African white?"
Laurie's aggressive body language softened. "The Danny I knew as a child was never a racist. I can't imagine that you've changed."
"No, I'm not a racist and never have been. There are many white South Africans like me. Please don't judge us all by the ugly scar on our history. You know, the South African government officials visited Canada when they first established apartheid and modeled the system after the Canadian Indian reserve concept."
"I know, and that doesn't make me feel very good. But it was a concept and system taken to extremes in South Africa. Oh, hell. How did we get on to this? I don't want to fight with you, Danny. I'm sorry."
Danny rubbed Laurie's back like she used to years ago when Laurie was upset. Then, blushing, she pulled her hand away.
"You're here to write about South Africa. Naturally, you need to ask the tough questions. Just please leave yourself open to all viewpoints, okay?"
"Okay."
They continued their stroll along the boardwalk.
Danny chose an intimate restaurant for dinner. They had an entree of smoked salmon, followed by a dinner of roasted ostrich, baked potatoes, and vegetables. They lingered over a dessert of fresh apple pie.
They talked and laughed over childhood adventures, but finally, Danny asked the question that had been hanging over them since Laurie arrived. "Your husband didn't wish to accompany you on this trip?"
It took Laurie a moment to answer. "Richard and I were married for two-and-a-half years. I was six months pregnant when he found someone else and left me. That was five years ago, and I haven't seen him since. We're divorced."
Danny's voice was controlled and measured when she spoke. "I'm very sorry, Laurie. The man was a fool to give you up. So you have a child?"
A smiled spread across Laurie's face. "A boy. Daniel. He's named after you."
"Me?"
"Richard wasn't the least bit interested in being a father. I wanted Dan to be able to identify with someone I admired, and that was you. He knows all about his Aunt Danny in South Africa. He has a picture of you in his room. He was really upset when I told him he was still too young to come out here with me."
Danny's mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but no sound came out.
"I can see you're thrilled to learn that you're an aunt."
"Daniel. He's really named after me? He thinks I'm his aunt? I've got to know his birth date so I can send him stuff. You didn't tell him that dumb story about me getting chased by the warthog, did you?"
"The warthog story is one of his favourites because you risked your own safety to save me. He knows everything about you. He loves stories about Africa. He wants to come visit his Aunt Danny in Africa and have you take him on safari."
"Yeah? Well, maybe we could do that some day when he's older."
"Ms. Allen, I thought I recognized you. It's nice to see you again."
They had been so involved in each other they failed to see the tough looking man who had walked over to their table until he spoke.
Laurie offered her hand. "Rod Gillery. What a pleasure. I didn't think I'd see you until we met in Kruger.
"Small world," Gillery said, and then turned to look at Danny. "Hello, Danielle Agia. It's been a long time."
"Not long enough."
"Danny!" Laurie made no attempt to hide her dismay at her friend's rudeness.
Gillery laughed. "Danielle must not have told you we were an item at one time. She broke my heart."
"You don't have a heart, Gillery" Danny said. "How do you know Laurie?"
"Danny, I really think—" Laurie said.
"It's okay, Ms. Allen," Gillery said. "Danielle Agia is a legend in South Africa, but she's not known for her manners. Are you aware that Miss Agia is one of the best shots and trackers in South Africa? When there's a problem with poachers, it's her they call. How many have you killed now, Danielle?"
Laurie stared at Danny.
Danny patted her lips with her napkin and dropped it on the table. She stood, and her eyes were cold as glacial ice. "I've killed one less than I need to. It would be a good idea if you left now, Rodney."
Gillery took a step back. "Sure, sure, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll be seeing you in Kruger, Ms. Allen."
"Yes, of course," Laurie said.
Cillery walked off.
Danny sat down and picked up her fork. "You are not to have anything to do with him," she said.
"My paper has arranged for me to interview him while I'm here. He's a big name in game hunting."
"He's a poacher, and you will stay away from him."
"You obviously didn't," Laurie said.
"We were engaged briefly. I was young and didn't know any better. My father warned me, but I was attracted to his bad boy image. I was fortunate to learn what he was really like before I made a big mistake."
Laurie looked down and then met Danny's eyes. "What did he mean about how many you've killed?"
"In South Africa, capital punishment doesn't exist any more. But the rules for big game poachers are different. If they resist arrest, they're shot and buried where they fall without markers."
"You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not. I've killed three." Danny pushed back from the table. "Are you ready to leave?"
They left and returned to the hotel.
Chapter 3
Several hours later, Rod Gillery entered a bar. Someone on the other side of the room saw him and watched his every move. In atmosphere and interior design, the bar was far removed from the rarified atmosphere of the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront Complex. It was a large local bar catering to the black population of Cape Town. The walls were cinder block, stained and chipped. The floor was cement, smoothed by a thousand feet and bearing the marks of unpleasant events. Patrons, their eyes filled with resentment, focussed on Gillery as he surveyed the room. They said nothing, did nothing. Gillery was known and tolerated.
Gillery wended his way through the coarse wooden benches and thick tables that were bolted to the floor to prevent them being used as weapons in a bar fight. He moved to a far corner and slid in beside the handsome, young black man so that his back, too, was against the wall. Three men were at the table; Gillery made four.
"What are you drinking?" Gillery asked, tossing some bills on the table.
"Beer," the man responded, nodding to one of the others. Hector Abute scooped up Gillery's money and went to the bar. Gillery leaned back, bracing his broad shoulders against the rough wall. Abute returned with a grimy glass and a large pitcher of beer. They all watched him pour.
Abute took a long swig and then spoke. "So, is all going according to plan?"
"Yes, I saw them tonight," Gillery responded.
"I would like to rape her before we kill her," Abute bragged. "All my life I have watched that bitch and wanted to fuck her. She is hot."
"She is also very, very dangerous. You don't toy with a rogue elephant. You put it down quickly. We kill her as fast as we can. What you do with her body after, I don't care or want to know about," Gillery said.
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