Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

The sky was darkening overhead. The mis was closer, covering the sea, ready to swallow up the shore. It had an eerie, menacing look about it as it rolled toward them, but Jamie thought exultantly, It’s going to save us!

A voice suddenly called out, “Hey! You two! What the hell are you doin’ there?”

Jamie and Banda turned. At the top of a dune about a hundred yards away was a uniformed guard carrying a rifle. Jamie looked back at the shore. The mis was closing in fast.

“You! You two! Come here,” the guard yelled. He lifted his rifle.

Jamie raised his hands. “I twisted my foot,” he called out. “I can’t walk.”

“Stay where you are,” the guard ordered. “I’m comin’ to get you.” He lowered his rifle and started moving toward them. A quick look back showed that the mis had reached the edge of the shore, and was coming in swiftly.

“Run!” Jamie whispered. He turned and raced toward the beach, Banda running close behind him.

“Stop!”

A second later they heard the sharp crack of a rifle, and the sand ahead of them exploded. They kept running, racing to meet the great dark wall of the fog. There was another rifle shot, closer this time, and another, and the next moment the two men were in total darkness. The sea mis licked at them, chilling them, smothering them. It was like being buried in cotton. It was impossible to see anything.

The voices were muffled now and distant, bouncing off the mis and coming from all directions. They could hear other voices calling to one another.

“Kruger!…It’s Brent…Can you hear me?”

“I hear you, Kruger…”

“There’re two of them,” the first voice yelled. “A white man and a black. They’re on the beach. Spread your men out. Skiet hom! Shoot to kill.”

“Hang on to me,” Jamie whispered.

Banda gripped his arm. “Where are you going?”

“We’re getting out of here.”

Jamie brought his compass up to his face. He could barely see it. He turned until the compass was pointing east. “This way…”

“Wait! We can’t walk. Even if we don’t bump into a guard or a dog, we’re going to set off a land mine.”

“You said there are a hundred yards before the mines start. Let’s get away from the beach.”

They started moving toward the desert, slowly and unsteadily, blind men in an unknown land. Jamie paced off the yards. Whenever they stumbled in the soft sand, they picked themselves up and kept moving. Jamie stopped to check the compass every few feet. When he estimated they had traveled almost a hundred yards, he stopped.

“This should be about where the land mines start. Is there any pattern to the way they’re placed? Anything you can think of that could help us?”

“Prayer,” Banda answered. “Nobody’s ever gotten past those land mines, Jamie. They’re scattered all over the field, buried about six inches down. We’re going to have to stay here until the mis lifts and give ourselves up.”

Jamie listened to the cotton-wrapped voices ricocheting around them.

“Kruger! Keep in voice contact…”

“Right, Brent…”

“Kruger…”

“Brent…”

Disembodied voices calling to each other in the blinding fog. Jamie’s mind was racing, desperately exploring every possible avenue of escape. If they stayed where they were, they would be killed the instant the mis lifted. If they tried moving through the field of mines, they would be blown to bits.

“Have you ever seen the land mines?” Jamie whispered.

“I helped bury some of them.”

“What sets them off?”

“A man’s weight. Anything over eighty pounds will explode them. That way they don’t kill the dogs.”

Jamie took a deep breath. “Banda, I may have a way for us to get out of here. It might not work. Do you want to gamble with me?”

“What have you got in mind?”

“We’re going to cross the mine fields on our bellies. That way we’ll distribute our weight across the sand.”

“Oh, Jesus!”

“What do you think?”

“I think I was crazy for ever leaving Cape Town.”

“Are you with me?” He could barely make out Banda’s face next to him.

“You don’t leave a man a lot of choice, do you?”

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