That morning, Angel had brought him the news he’d been waiting for. Jose and a couple of the Chinese sailors from the Peng Cheng had arrived in Vilanculos and the crewmen had gone shopping. Jose, he knew, would be heading to the airport to wait for Chan, just as George Penfold had predicted.
Angel missed nothing of what went on in town, particularly near the small port where she plied her trade, and she had advised him when Jose had ferried Kevin, Heinrich, Henri and Kufa to the mainland, and of their departure on the Pelican Airways flight to South Africa.
It was time for him to strike. The island and its arsenal would be unguarded.
Mitch steered his way through the gap in the coral reef and lowered the dhow’s ragged, patched sail. When the keel shushed home on the sandy beach he jumpe
