Kalahari (A Soldier of Fortune Adventure #7) by Peter McCurtin

Author:Peter McCurtin [McCurtin, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action adventure, andy mcnab, Chris Ryan, Communists, hero, Mercenaries, Military, Piccadilly Publishing, soldiers of fortune, strikeback
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2023-05-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

THE GATE CLOSED behind us and an MP sergeant told Block to drive across the yard to “new prisoners reception.” He pointed to a sign bolted to the stone above an archway at the end of the main cellblock building. Everything in Windhoek was housed in one four-story stone building with narrow barred windows. The front of the building had a series of fanciful archways, the legacy of some forgotten colonial architect with notions of grandeur. There were signs pointing the way to the governor’s office, infirmary, visitors’ room.

The sergeant followed the truck and he stood there while the mercs were handing me down. Kruger got out of the cab and walked up to the sergeant, who was watching me. Kruger had his gun out. I saw the sergeant’s face jerk and his hand moved toward his holstered pistol before he thought better of it. Kruger was to one side of him, about a foot behind. Kruger reached out and took the sergeant’s pistol, then flapped the holster over again. The sergeant just stood there, sweating and angry and confused.

I was down from the truck. Cliff handed me my gun belt and I buckled it on. Then he gave me the AK-47, which was locked and ready to fire. The truck gave us cover from the two soldiers at the gate, the men in the towers. From where we were I couldn’t see the two towers at the front of the prison. That meant they couldn’t see us.

I put the muzzle of the AK-47 under the sergeant’s chin. The blood, the battered face must have given me a pretty fearsome appearance. The sergeant gulped as the steel dug into his neck. I knew we weren’t going to have any trouble with this guy.

“Call the men at the gate in here,” I told him. “Say one wrong word and I’ll blow your head apart. Nod if you’re ready to cooperate.”

The sergeant nodded as vigorously as the weapon under his chin would allow. I nodded to Kruger, who moved up close behind the sergeant. Kruger would silence him with the knife if he tried to do us dirt.

The sergeant had to make two starts before he got the words out right. “Botha, Anderson, get over here on the double.”

The two privates came running and were disarmed. “Somebody’s coming,” Block said. Two MPs, both corporals, walked out of the building. They were unarmed and they thought about making a run for it until Winner and Dawson stepped up behind them. We were still covered by the truck, but it was getting crowded. So far we had bagged a sergeant, two privates, two corporals.

“Where’s the closest cell?” I said to the sergeant. “An isolated cell with nobody else around to see what’s going on.” The sergeant sweated, still angry and undecided about what he should do. I knew he wanted to do something, poor guy. “These guys go into a cell or they get knifed. Nobody here has to get killed if you do what I tell you.

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