General China slowly went down on one knee and reverently lifted the assembled launcher out of its foam nest. His staff watched in awe as he settled the clumsy weapon on his shoulder.
The missile tube extended behind him and the console with its antenna, looking as mundane as a plastic milk crate, almost totally obscured General China's features. He peered studiously into the aiming screen of the console and gripped the triggered pistol stock.
He aimed the Stinger skyward, and his staff uttered small sounds of encouragement and admiration.
"Let the Frelimo hen shaw come now," China boasted. "We will see them burn." And he began to make helicopter and machine gun noises like a small boy at play, pointing the missile at flocks of imaginary Hind gunships that circled overhead.
"Pow! Pow!" he cried. "Vroom! Swish! Boom!"
"Kapow!" With a straight face, Sean joined in, and the general's staff howled with delight and tried to outdo each other with the sounds of exploding and crashing helicopters.
Somebody began to sing and they all picked up the refrain, clapping their hands to the rhythm of the Renamo, battle anthem, swaying and stamping their feet. Now there were two hundred men singing, their voices blending and rising into the beautiful melodious sound of Africa that made the goose pimples rise on Sean's forearms and the hair on the back of his neck prickle. General China stood in the midst of them with the missile on his shoulders, leading the chorus. His voice soared above the rest, amazing Sean with its range and clarity, a magnificent tenor that would not have disgraced any of the world's great opera houses.
The song ended with a great shout of defiance, "Renamo!" and the men's dark faces were lit by a fierce patriotic ardor.
4"In this mood, they'll be hard men to beat," Sean thought.
General China handed the launcher to one of his men and came to shake Sean's hand. "Congratulations, Colonel." He was earnest and happy at the same time. "I think you have saved the cause. I am grateful."
"That's fine, China. f9 Sean was ironic. "But don't just tell me how grateful, show me."
"Of course. Forgive me." China put on a little show of repentance. "In the excitement I almost forgot. There is somebody very anxious to see you."
Sean felt his breathing shorten and his chest constrict. "Where is she?"
"in my bunker, Colonel." General China indicated the carefully concealed entrance to the dugout among the trees.
Sean elbowed his way roughly through the ranks of excited soldiers. When he reached the entrance to the bunker, he could restrain himself no longer, and he went down the rough stop three at a time.
Claudia was in the radio dugout, sitting on a bench along the far wall with her two war dresses flanking her. He spoke her name when he saw her and she came to her feet slowly, staring at him, white-faced with disbelief. The bones of her cheeks threatened to burst through the almost translucent skin, and her eyes were huge and dark as midnight.
As he crossed to her, Sean saw the marks on her wrists, livid weals crusted with fresh scab, and his anger matched his joy. He swept her into his arms, and she was as thin and frail as a child.
For a moment she stood quiescent in his embrace, then fiercely she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He was surprised by her strength, and she shivered in convulsive spasms as she pressed her face into the hollow of his neck.
They stood locked together, neither moving nor speaking for a long time, until Sean felt the wetness soaking through his shirt front.
"Please don't cry, my darling."
Gently he lifted her face between his hands and with his thumbs wiped the tears away.
"It Is just that I'm so happy now." She smiled through the last of her tears. "Nothing else matters anymore, now that you're back."
He took her hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the broken, scabbed skin on her wrists.
"They can't hurt me anymore, not now," she said. Sean turned his head and looked at the two uniformed war dresses who still sat on the bench. "Your mothers rutted with the stinking dung-eating hyena," he said softly in Shangane, and they flinched at the insult.
"Get out! Go! Before I ri out your ovaries and feed them to the p vultures!"
They glowered apd hung their heads until Sean dropped his hand onto the butfof his pistol. Then they moved with alacrity, jumping up from the bench and sidling to the dugout steps.
Sean turned back to Claudia and for the first time kissed her mouth. That kiss lasted a long time, and when they drew unwillingly apart Claudia whispered, "When they took off the handcuffs and let me wash, I knew you were coming back."
pict of the degradation and brutal Her words conjured up a ure ity she had come through, and Sean's reply was bitter.
"The bastard. Somehow I'm going to make him suffer for what he has done to you. I swear that to you."
"No, Scan. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. We're together again. That's all that matters."
They had only a few more minutes alone before General China came bustling into the radio dugout at the head of his staff, still smiling and elated. He ushered Sean and Claudia through into his private office and seemed not to notice that they both treated his affable hospitality with icy reserve. They sat close together in front of his desk, quietly holding hands, not responding to his pleasantries.
"I have prepared quarters for you," General China told them.