128 Sudan Slaughter by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

12

The survivors stole a truck and retreated to a temporary place of safety. Their luck held as they escaped into the poor areas of town without being spotted.

A doctor was, hurriedly summoned to attend to Fitzgerald. The bullet had dug deep into his intestines, but fortunately hadn't done as much damage as the huge amounts of blood indicated. Working with crude instruments outside a hospital environment, the doctor and two nurses labored over the task of sewing Fitzgerald together.

At the end of the operation the doctor was optimistic but cautious. "I got the bullet out and stopped the bleeding," the medical man said with a shrug. "But down here... If he survives the possibility of infections and sepsis, he'll have a good chance. But he really needs a hospital."

Bolan shook his head. "No hospitals." There was no way Fitzgerald's identity could be hidden if he was hospitalized. The diplomat would have to take his chances.

"I've done the best I can. He will survive if it is the will of God," the doctor said as he left.

Fitzgerald was out of the action for a long time to come. Maybe permanently. Bolan and the others discussed this disaster and how to follow up.

Mut pulled a creased photograph from his back pocket. "As we escaped through the warehouse I searched an officer that you had eliminated. I found this."

He held a photograph of Ishag.

"This explains a lot," Bolan concluded. He sat, regaining his strength. The long night of battle, combined with donating a pint of blood for Fitzgerald had worn down the soldier's energy.

Juba nodded emphatically. "I feel partly to blame. I placed him in charge of the security arrangements for the meeting, to try to mend the wall between us. He was highly intelligent and could have been very useful in the new government. Before the discussions started I asked him why security seemed to be so lax compared to the prior meetings. Re answered that he was afraid a lot of guards would attract attention. And besides, who would know we were in some abandoned warehouse?"

"That made it pretty easy for him to bring in the troops," Bolan said.

"Yes. The photograph was to make sure that he wasn't accidentally shot by the people he was planning to help. But never understand why he would betray us."

No one answered the rhetorical question. Bolan suspected that it came down to his having received a better offer from the other side. Principles were often only loosely rooted and would wash away quickly in a moderate stream of green and gold.

Bolan didn't care about the traitor's motives. Right now he was concerned with minimizing the damage. If he found Ishag in his gun sights he wouldn't bother psychoanalyzing the man.

"What harm can he do?" he asked Juba.

"It depends on how much he's said." The leader shrugged. "He knows the plans for the coup, but not the dates. Many of the people we were counting on for assistance are known to him, although not all. But

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