The radio crackled, ‘The nuisance at fifteen kilometres is making rapid departure, mi amigo. Your job is done, return to base and we shall prepare for breaking camp and evacuating site tomorrow. You must hurry, mi amigo, daylight will be gone soon.’
At Pelops’ command, the Unimog turned without sign of deceleration and sped over the harsh ground, scything through the snake-infested and sinewy savannah grass towards base, bathed in a shade of red by the mercifully less withering glare of the late afternoon sun.
*
The sombre sound of a harmonica ringing out an indiscernible tune on a distinctly twelve-bar blues theme drifted across the deck of the Adelene and echoed in the quayside warehouse.
‘Be Jee-zus, Joseph and Mother Mary, Skipper, if Weeny gets an earful of that wind machine waili
