Daniel clambered upwards, hand over hand, agile as an ape on the narrow steel rungs, and reached the flat roof of the truck. The fan housing was in the centre of the roof and a low grab-rail ran the length of the hull, fore and aft. On hands and knees Daniel worked his way forward, falling flat on his belly and clinging grimly to the rail when the centrifugal force of the truck through the bends threatened to throw him from the roof.
It took him fully five minutes to get forward above the articulated driver's cab. He was pretty certain that Gomo had not seen him come aboard. The bulk of the cargo hold would have blocked his rear view.
By now he must be fairly confident that he had discouraged the driver of the Landcruiser, for its headlights were no longer visible on the empty road behind the truck.
Daniel worked his way gingerly across to the passenger side of the cab and peered over. There was a running-board below the passenger door, and the sturdy wing mirror standing out from the side of the cab would give him a secure handhold. It only remained to find out if Gomo had taken the precaution of locking the passenger door. There was no reason why he should, Daniel comforted himself, as he looked ahead down the beams of the truck's powerful headlights.
He waited until the road turned left. The pull would hold him against the side of the cab, rather than throwing him clear.
He slid over the side and clutched at the wing mirror. For a moment his feet were kicking in air, then they hit the wide steel running-board andfound a hold. He was facing inwards, hanging on to the mirror and peering in through the side window of the cab.
Gomo turned a startled face towards him and shouted something. He tried to reach across to the locking handle of the door, but the full width of the passenger seat separated him from it and the truck slewed wildly and nearly left the road, for Gomo to grab the wheel again.
Daniel jerked open the side door and threw himself into the cab, sprawling half across the seat. gomo punched at-his face.
The fist caught Daniel under the left eye and stunned him for only a moment, then Daniel seized the handle of the vacuum brake control and heaved it full on.
All the gigantic wheels of the truck locked simultaneously and, in a shrieking billow of blue smoke and scorching rubber, the truck skidded and swayed down the highway. Gomo was hurled forward out of his seat.
The steering-wheel caught him in the chest and his forehead cracked against the windshield with enough force to star the glass.
Then the next wild swing of the vehicle flung him back, only semi-conscious, into his seat. Daniel reached across him and seized the steering-wheel. He held the truck straight until it came to a halt, half off the highway, with its offside wheels in the drainage ditch.
Daniel switched off the ignition and reached across gomo to open the driver's door. He grabbed gomo's shoulder and shoved him roughly out of the cab. Gomo fell the six feet to the ground and ended up on his knees.
There was a lump the size and colour of a ripe fig in the centre of his forehead where he had hit the windscreen.
Daniel jumped down and stooped to catch hold of the collar of his uniform tunic. All right. He twisted the collar like a garotte. You killed Johnny Nzou and his family. gomo's. face was swelling and turning purple black in the vague light reflected from the truck's headlamps. Please, Doctor, I don't understand. Why are you doing this?
His voice was a breathless whine as Daniel choked him. You lying bastard, you are as guilty-Gama reached under the hem of his tunic. He wore a skinning knife in a leather sheath on his belt. Daniel heard the snap of the buckle as he released the retaining strap and caught the glint of the blade as it came free of the sheath.
Daniel released his collar and jumped back as gomo slashed upwards.
He was only just quick enough, for the blade caught in a loose fold of his shirt and sliced it like a razor. He felt the sting of it as it nicked his skin and left a shallow graze. up across his lower ribs.
Gama came to his feet, holding the knife in a low underhand grip. I kill you, he warned, shaking his head to clear it, weaving the glittering blade in the typical knife-fighter's on-guard stance, aiming the point at Daniel's belly. I kill you, you white shit-eater.
He feinted and cut in a sidearm slash and Daniel jumped back as the blade hissed an inch from his stomach.
Yah! Gomo chuckled thickly. Jump, you white baboon.
Run, you little white monkey. He cut again, forcing Daniel to give ground, and then rushed at him in a furious prolonged attack that forced Daniel to scramble and dance to keep clear of the darting blade.
Gama changed the angle of his thrusts, going lower, trying to cut Daniel's thighs and cripple him, but always keeping the knife well covered so that Daniel could not grab at his wrist.
Moving backwards, Daniel pretended to stumble on the rough footing.
He dropped on one knee and put his left hand to the ground to regain his balance. Yah! Gomo thought he saw his opportunity and came in to finish it, but Daniel had snatched up a handful of gravel and now he pushed off and used his momentum to hurt the handful into gomo's face.
It was an old knife-fighter's trick, but gomo fell for it. The gravel slashed his eyes, and deflected his thrust.
Instinctively he threw up his hands to cover his face, and Daniel seized his knife-hand and wrenched it over.
They were chest to chest now, the knife held above their heads at the full stretch of their arms. Daniel snapped his head forward, butting for Gomo's face, and caught him with the top of his forehead across the bridge of his nose. Gomo gasped and reeled backwards; and Daniel brought up his right knee into Gama's crotch, catching him squarely, crushing his genitals.
This time gomo screamed and his right arm lost its force.
Daniel swung it down and slammed the knuckles of the clenched knife-hand against the steel side of the truck. The knife spun from gomo's nerveless fingers, and Daniel hooked him behind the heels with one foot, and heaved him backwards so that he tripped and went sprawling into the drainage ditch beside the highway.
Before Gomo could recover his balance and rise, Daniel had snatched up the knife and was standing over him. He placed the point of the blade under gomo's chin and pricked the soft skin of his throat so that a single droplet of blood welled out on to the silver steel like a bright cabochon ruby. Keep still, he grated, or I'll cut your gizzard out, you murdering bastard. it took a few seconds for him to recover his breath. All right.
Now get up, slowly. Gama came to his feet, clutching his injured genitals. Daniel forced him back against the side of the truck, the knife still pressed to his throat. You've got the ivory in the truck, he accused.
Let's have a look at it, my friend. No, Gomo whispered. No ivory.
I don't know what you want. You are mad, man. Where are the keys to the hold? Daniel demanded, and Gama swivelled his eyes without moving his head. in my pocket. Turn around, slowly, Daniel ordered. Face the side of the truck. gomo obeyed Daniel whipped his arm around his throat in a stranglehold from behind and shoved him forward so that his lumped forehead cracked against the steel hull. Gomo cried out with the pain.
Give me an excuse to do that again, Daniel whispered in his ear. The sound of your pig squeals is sweet music. He pressed the knife into gomo's back at the level of his kidneys, just hard enough to let him feel the point of it through the cloth of his tunic. Get the keys. He pricked him a little harder and Gomo reached into his pocket. The keys tinkled as he brought them out.
Still holding him in a strangler's grip, Daniel frog-marched him to the rear of the truck.