175 wds.
_ _ for italics.



Aza smiled. “Two hundred cattle, Koko, well done.”

“The numbers strengthen the disguise.”

“Indeed. We only want Chief Dembe; don't kill anyone.”

“They are Bantu tribe. _Filth_.”

“News of this will be international, it must be positive.”

“Your wish-- Look, the train has stopped.” Cattle lumbered past the front of the towering, thrumming machine; Bantu guards jumped from open cars.

Koko flung his robe aside. Adrenaline charged his form; muscle gleamed like onyx. Sun flashed along his baton and two Bantu guards collapsed.

Aza's forty men shed the guise of shepherd and swarmed the elephantine locomotive. Sand skittered down Saharan dunes.

Aza cast streams of Mace at Bantu faces. “Dembe is in the second car!”

Koko lifted Aza into the wide rail car. The metal floor felt wet; the rough coffin rested on slabs of melting ice. “Chief Dembe, killed in prison by a senseless regime. They would put his body on public display.” She stood, calm. “I won't allow the sight of my mentor to be perverted. We take him home today... to Mali.”

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