Jack Higgins – Wrath of the Lion 1964 The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God. WILLIAM BLAKE

She frowned slightly, as if finding difficulty in taking in. what he had said. “But you’ve only got a handful of men. You can’t possibly hope to defeat such a large group.”

“Solicitude for my welfare at this stage, Mrs. Hume? You’re slipping.” He got to his feet and buckled on his re-volver. “Don’t worry, we have our ways.” He crossed to the door, opened it and turned. “Stay here, and this time I mean it.”

Mary Hume opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came, and suddenly she was afraid. Afraid of this terrible young man. There was nothing she could do, nothing to prevent the tragedy that was taking place. Out of some strange, inner knowledge she knew that Neil Mallory, in the process of destroying the evil that he hated, was also de-stroying himself. The most surprising thing of all was that she cared.

Mallory moved across to the jetty and paused beside the two men who squatted behind the heavy machine-gun. Another was positioned on top of a small hill fifty yards away and between them they covered the river with an arc of fire.

At the end of the jetty Tewak waited with the rest of the men. Two of them crouched behind the narrow wall, the heavy tanks of their flame-throwers bulging obscenely.

The rain rushed into the river with a heavy, sibilant whis-pering, and Mallory was aware of a strange, aching sadness. It was as if he had done all this before in another time, another place. As if life were a circle turning endlessly. Everything that had happened during the previous few hours lacked definition, like a dream only half remembered.

And then Tewak grunted. There was the slapping of water against a keel, a sensation of an even darker mass moving through the darkness, and Mallory tapped Tewak lightly on the shoulder.

The little sergeant picked up a portable spot and switched it on. The white beam lanced through the night, picking out two large fishing boats as they slipped downstream, side by side, sails furled, a man in each stern working a sweep.

There was a cry of alarm and the first boat half lifted out of the water as it collided with the ferry hawser which Tewak and his men had suspended across the river an hour earlier.

The boat spun round, crashing into its fellow, and there was another cry, followed by a burst of small-arms fire di-rected towards the jetty.

Mallory called out and the men with the flame-throwers stood up. Liquid fire arched through the night, splashing across the two boats. Immediately their superstructure and sails started to burn and men poured on to their decks from below.

The two heavy machine-guns opened up, raking the decks, chopping down the guerrillas as soon as they ap-peared. Tewak dropped the spot, picked up his sub-machine-gun and joined in with the rest of the men.

It was over within a few minutes. A handful jumped from the blazing inferno and struck out desperately for safety, but the flame-throwers searched them out, the fire licking hungrily across the surface of the water, catching them one by one.

By this time the river and the village were brilliantly il-luminated and Mallory stood there watching, taking no part in what was happening. He glanced at his watch. It was just after 2 a.m. and he wondered how Harrison was getting on.

He turned and found Mary Hume standing a few yardsaway. When he walked towards her he saw that she was crying.

“You butcher,” she said. “You butcher. I’ll see you hang for this night’s work.”

Tm sure you will, Mrs. Hume,” he said calmly and went past her along the jetty.

Twenty-four hours left now till that plane arrived, that was all, but it was enough. If he moved fast along the river bank to meet up with Harrison and his men coming south they’d be certain to sweep up any survivors of the clash at the rubber estate. Another twenty-four hours and after that…

As he went up the bank towards the command post the first fishing boat sank beneath the surface with a hiss of steam.

CHAPTER TEN AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR

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