Guests of Death (eBook)

A South African Hero's Struggle in the French Foreign Legion, Book 17

Meiring Fouche, Pieter Haasbroek (Autoren)

Pieter Haasbroek (Herausgeber)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
100 Seiten
Pieter Haasbroek (Verlag)
978-0-00-077727-0 (ISBN)

Infos

They were sent into the heart of an enemy fortress with a secret to sell.

But when the gates slam shut, the deadliest threat is a cruel queen who never forgets a face.

Sahara desert, 1940-1960. Sergeant Teuns Stegmann and his four elite Legionnaires are the French Foreign Legion's last hope. Their mission. Go undercover, disguised as Arab arms smugglers, to penetrate the impregnable fortress-city of Doetra. They must expose a massive army gathering in secret, an army poised to sweep across the Sahara and slaughter every soldier in its path.

Their only passport is a revolutionary new rifle they must offer to the Doelaks' ruthless sovereign, the beautiful and cunning Madame Brigitte Bonnet. But she is a woman whose memory is as sharp as her executioner's sword. One wrong word, one slip in their disguise, means a torture worse than death as their unsuspecting comrades will then be wiped from the desert sands forever.

Fusing relentless action with knife-edge suspense, this epic Sahara thriller is a must-read for fans of Alistair MacLean, Wilbur Smith, and the pulse-pounding espionage of Jack Higgins.

Step into this unforgettable seventeenth Sahara adventure now!

Textauszug

17. GUESTS OF DEATH

Chapter 1

DANGEROUS MISSION

Fritz Mundt, the big German from the French Foreign Legion, turned onto his back, once again exposing his stomach to the setting Sahara sun. To him, it felt as if the sun had already burned the skin clean off his back. Here on the high ramparts of the fortress in Dini Salam, the Legion’s forward garrison town, it felt as hot as perdition itself. Fritz glared at the guard who walked past him, glancing his way somewhat mockingly.

“I wish I knew what foolishness this is, making us lie here in the consuming sun every blessed day, and without a stitch on at that,” Fritz protested. He closed his eyes against the sun and scratched at his long and luxuriant red beard. “I’ve just about had enough of this nonsense,” Fritz announced.

Beside him, the small Petacci, the little Italian, rolled onto his stomach. “I’ll tell you, old Big One,” said Petacci. “They probably want to send us to the French Riviera so the people there can see what splendid specimens of manhood and physical prowess exist in the Foreign Legion.”

“No, I’ll tell you,” announced Jack Ritchie, the Englishman, from the side. “They probably want to send us to Hollywood to act in some film or other.”

Teuns Stegmann, the tall, blond South African with his bushy beard, turned onto his side and looked at the ludicrous scene beside him, at his few mates all lying here on the planks of the ramparts with not a stitch of clothing on. “I’ll tell you what the plan is,” said Teuns. “The film people are probably looking for a new Tarzan, so they’re letting us tan here in the sun to see which of us will look best.”

“Whatever the purpose may be,” murmured Podolski, the Pole, “I wish to heaven they would tell us what it is now. Lying in this sun, we’ll all get sunstroke. And I feel as if I’m already cooked through.”

“The old Big One has tanned nicely,” teased Teuns, gesturing towards Fritz. “He looks just like a wine cask painted light brown.”

Fritz Mundt merely snorted his disapproval. “It’s a foolish, mad, and senseless affair,” he said. “Why can’t they tell us what they have in mind for us?”

“Perhaps it’s a major military secret, old Big One,” said Petacci. “Perhaps they want to use us to conquer the entire Arab world. From here all the way to Colonel Nasser’s republic.”

“Yes,” affirmed Jack Ritchie. “They wouldn’t expose us to the Sahara sun if they didn’t have a grand purpose for us.”

“Perhaps we’re cut out to change history, old Big One,” said Teuns from the side. “Who knows, perhaps we can strike a blow for the Western nations.”

“Your chatter makes me sick,” said Fritz, rolling the plug of tobacco in his cheek.

“You look just like an Arab sheikh already, old Big One,” announced Podolski, peering sideways at the big German. “If they dyed your beard black now, you’d be a ready-made Arab sheikh.”

“How romantic,” piped up Petacci in his high-pitched voice. “Perhaps you could even snag one of those beautiful Arab delicacies here in one of the cafes.”

Fritz Mundt lay perfectly still, pretending not to hear them. And just as they were about to tease him further, the orderly appeared beside them on the platform. “Men Stegmann, Mundt, Podolski, Petacci, and Ritchie,” said the orderly, looking as though he could barely contain his laughter, “the colonel wants to see you immediately.”

“Thank you for the joyful tidings,” said Fritz quickly, and the next moment he was on his feet.

The five tanned men, who for quite some time now had been forced to lie stark naked here on the ramparts for a while each day, just as if they were sunbathing on a beach, gratefully trotted down the stairs, quickly got dressed in the barracks, and then hurried to the office of Colonel Le Clerq, commander of the garrison post, Dini Salam.

Less than ten minutes later, the five men stood stiffly at attention before the greyish man behind the gleaming desk.

“At ease, mes amis,” said the colonel. The men immediately stood at ease. And then they all looked with interest at the peculiar, oblong, pale yellow wooden box on Colonel Le Clerq’s desk. He noticed it, but said nothing. He let them look at that box for quite some time before speaking again. Beside him sat Captain D’Arlan. Both officers looked at the five men before them with a smile of interest and apparent satisfaction.

Le Clerq leaned back in his swivel chair. Then he thoughtfully tugged at the ends of his moustache for a moment. “Aha,” said the colonel, “I see the five men have tanned splendidly. Just as we wanted it. Excellent! Excellent, mes amis.”

And then suddenly, the garrison physician appeared as if from nowhere in the office. He was a small, sallow little man with a bald head and two fiery little eyes. He saluted briskly and then also looked at the five standing in a row before the desk.

“Mes amis,” said Colonel Le Clerq, “I regret this, but I must ask you to undress. You must take everything off. I want to see you stark naked.”

For a moment, the men stared, completely taken aback, at the commanding officer. Then they looked at Captain D’Arlan, who sat there expressionlessly, and then uncertainly at each other. But the next moment they hesitantly began removing their clothes, and when Colonel Le Clerq urged them to hurry, they wasted no further time. In an instant, the five stood stark naked there in the commanding officer’s office.

“What do you think, Dr. Bretan?” asked Colonel Le Clerq.

Dr. Bretan looked attentively at the five. Examined them up and down. Even walked around them, scrutinizing and observing them from head to toe. Even lifted their arms and looked underneath. Examined the insides of their legs.

“Excellent,” said Bretan when he had finished his strange examination. “They have tanned excellently. Actually, they are more black than brown, and that is what we want, is it not, mon Colonel?”

“Precisely,” answered D’Arlan from the side. “That is exactly what we want.”

“The hair and beards are nothing,” said Bretan. “Those I will dye as they should be. Dyeing hair and beards jet black, there’s nothing to it.”

“Splendid,” exclaimed Le Clerq. Then he motioned for the men to get dressed again.

Completely bewildered, they dressed again, and while wondering what on earth was going on, they kept stealing glances at that oblong yellow wooden box on the desk. What strange task did Le Clerq have up his sleeve for them now?

Le Clerq had risen from his chair and walked to the wall where the large map of the Sahara territories hung unrolled against the wall. He stood there with his hands behind his back, looking intently at the map. Then he stood balancing his body on his toes, then touched his cheek, then traced a direction on the map with his forefinger, and then began pacing aimlessly through the room.

Afterwards, the colonel returned to sit in his swivel chair. “Bretan,” he addressed the doctor, “are you absolutely certain you can dye these men’s hair and beards, and even their eyelashes, satisfactorily? Can you do it so that there isn’t the slightest doubt?”

“I am quite certain of it, mon Colonel,” said Bretan.

“What... what about these two with the blue eyes?” asked Le Clerq, gesturing towards Teuns Stegmann and Fritz Mundt.

“Blue eyes make no difference,” said Bretan. “I have seen many Arabs with the clearest blue eyes one can imagine. You need not worry about that, mon Colonel. I will even dye the hair under their arms. Nothing will be overlooked, mon officier. We will keep the slightest details in mind.”

“Merci, Bretan,” said the colonel, “that will be all for now.” Bretan saluted and then walked out of the office.

Le Clerq looked at the five men before him. Then he reached out his hands, took that oblong box, and pulled it closer towards him.

But he did not open it. Instead of opening the wooden box, he made a gesture with his hand towards D’Arlan. “Capitaine,” Le Clerq said to D’Arlan, “would you be so good as to explain to these legionnaires what is going on?”

D’Arlan stood up and took a turn around the office. Then he came to stand by the men and looked at them intently. D’Arlan had a very strong feeling for these five men. They had endured many dangers together, and more times than he could remember, they had tasted death together. Therefore, there was a sensitive expression in the captain’s eyes when he spoke. “Mes amis,” he addressed them. “You must surely have wondered greatly in recent times why you are being subjected to the ordeal of lying in the Sahara sun to tan. We understand that it was not an easy task for you. No man willingly exposes himself to the Sahara sun. You must also be wondering about the little scene that just played out here when Dr. Bretan examined you so. When he spoke of dyeing your hair and your beards. Now the time has come for us to inform you about what is happening and what our intentions are for you.”

D’Arlan looked at Le Clerq, and it was then that Le Clerq opened that box.

And when he pulled back that lid, it was as if the five men there gasped with astonishment and excitement.

In that oblong, pale yellow wooden box lay the most beautiful and striking weapon they had probably ever beheld. It gleamed menacingly where it lay, and compared to the Lebel rifles they were accustomed to, and even to the modern light machine guns they sometimes handled, this little weapon with its short muzzle looked like an infant among...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 25.8.2025
• Übersetzer: Pieter Haasbroek, Ai
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-077727-7 / 0000777277
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-077727-0 / 9780000777270