Vortex

And why not? Muller thought. Our sparring doesn’t threaten his hold on power, and it prevents either of us from gaining too much control over the security services. His respect for Vorster’s shrewdness climbed another notch-as did his carefully concealed dislike for the older man.

Vorster turned to the foreign minister, a gaunt, sallow man. Rumor said he was fighting some form of deadly cancer. It was a fight he seemed to be losing.

“And what of the world’s other nations, Jaap? Have we anything to fear from them?”

The foreign minister shook his head.

“Nothing more than words, Mr.

President. The Western powers have already done their worst. Their sanctions can scarcely be made stricter. And the Russians haven’t the resources left to threaten us. They’re too busy watching their empire crumble to be concerned with what happens ten thousand kilometers from

Moscow.”

Vorster nodded approvingly.

“True. Very true.

He looked around the table again.

“Very well, gentlemen. Any last comments?”

The silence dragged on for several seconds.

At last, one of the junior cabinet ministers raised a reluctant hand.

“One thing still troubles me, sir.”

“Go on. ” Vorster’s temper seemed more in check than it had earlier.

“The Western intelligence services and spy satellites are bound to spot signs of our mobilization for Nimrod. Since it’s essential that we obtain tactical and strategic surprise for this campaign, shouldn’t we have some kind of cover story to explain our troop movements?”

Vorster smiled grimly.

“A very good point, young Ritter. And one that has already been taken into consideration.”

He nodded toward Fredrik Pienaar, the minister of information.

“Fredrik and I have already begun to lay the groundwork. Tomorrow, I shall speak to our most loyal supporters from the Transvaal. And when the interfering democracies hear what I have to say, they’ll be quite convinced that our soldiers are going to be used only for cracking kaffir heads inside this country. Little “Namibia’ will be the furthest thing from their minds.”

The men around the conference table nodded in understanding and agreement.

“Good. That’s settled, then.” Vorster turned to the minister of defense.

“Very well, Constand. Notify all commands. Operation Nimrod proceeds as planned.”

South Africa was on its way to war.

AUGUST 4-ABC”S NIGHT LINE

The reporter stood at the corner of C and Twenty-third streets in downtown

Washington, D.C. The gray government building behind her provided a neutral background for her carefully coiffed hair and green summer dress.

More importantly, the sign saying STATE DEPARTMENT told her viewers where she was and that great events were afoot. Bright white TV lights lit the sky.

“If congressional Democrats can agree on anything these days, it’s that the administration’s response to recent developments in South Africa has been halting, confused, and wholly inadequate. And as Pretoria’s violent crackdown on dissent continues, congressional demands for further economic sanctions seem likely to intensify. All this at a time when administration officials are already working late into the night-trying desperately to restructure a South Africa policy thrown badly out of whack.”

The camera pulled back slightly, showing a lit row of windows at the top of the State Department.

“And something else seems certain. South African state

president Karl Vorster’s latest public harangue will do absolutely nothing to douse the sanctions furor building up on Capitol Hill. If anything, his rhetoric appears calculated to send apartheid opponents around the world into fits.”

She disappeared from the screen, replaced by footage showing Vorster standing on a flag-draped dais. The bloodred, three-armed-swastika banners of the Afrikaner Weerstandbeweging mingled with South African blue-, white-, and orange-striped national flags.

Vorster’s clipped accent made his words seem even harsher.

“We have given the blacks of our country every chance to participate in a peaceful exchange of ideas. Every chance to work toward a sharing of power and increased prosperity, for them and for all South Africans.”

He paused dramatically.

“But they have shown themselves to be unworthy!

Their answer to reform is murder! They reply to reason with violence!

They are incapable of peaceful conduct, much less of participating in the government. They have had their chance, and they will not have another.

Never again! That I promise you, never again.”

A roar of approval surged through the hall and the camera panned around, showing a sea of arm-waving, cheering white faces.

As the thunderous applause faded, the camera cut back to the reporter standing on the State Department steps.