‘What happened to him?’
‘He had a stroke in court in the middle of the trial. The case was closed. He died a few weeks later …’
‘Do you believe in destiny, Mr Rogan?’
‘Oh yes. Do you?’
‘You have to ask? How else can we explain this fascinating encounter? Here, right now. You and me. We are instruments of fate …’
Jack looked at Macbeth intently. ‘Then please answer this for me: Are you Siegfried Van Der Hooven?’ he asked.
‘What do you think? You must have given this a lot of thought,’ said Macbeth.
‘I have. Maybe I should ask another question first before I give you my answer. It’s a question I’ve wrestled with for quite some time. I believe it’s a question only Siegfried would know how to answer.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘How did the crystal skull end up with Lady Elms, and why?’
‘Let’s see … There are a number of possibilities. Perhaps the most plausible answer is this: her young lover gave it to her as a token of his love and devotion. It was his most treasured possession and he wanted her to have it.’
‘Yes, that makes sense. It answers the why, but not the when,’ said Jack.
‘Does that really matter?’
‘I think it does.’
‘All right. According to your notes, the young lovers run away. The jilted husband is in hot pursuit, determined to get his wife back. He finds them hiding in a native village somewhere in the bush. The young man is caught and terribly beaten. The distraught young woman is convinced her husband has killed her lover in a fit of jealous rage and returns with her husband to England,’ said Macbeth.
‘So?’
‘What if her lover isn’t dead? What if he has somehow survived and later sends her a signal, a message only she would understand? Something personal and totally unique?’
‘Interesting; go on,’ said Jack.
‘He sends her the crystal skull as proof that he’s alive and asks her to join him.’
‘Not bad,’ said Jack. ‘But we know she didn’t.’
‘Not every story is a fairytale with a happy ending,’ said Macbeth, the bitterness in his voice obvious.
‘I understand this is all hypothetical,’ said Jack, playing along. ‘But it doesn’t end there, does it? Allow me to continue the story. Hypothetically, of course.’
‘Go ahead.’
Here it comes, thought Jack, taking a deep breath. I wonder how he’ll take this. ‘The young woman returns to England with her angry, estranged husband. She soon discovers she’s with child – her lover’s child!’ Jack paused, letting the bombshell find its mark.
‘This is nonsense!’ blustered Macbeth, almost shouting.
‘Hypothetical, perhaps, but not nonsense. Please hear me out. Her husband knows the child isn’t his, but a divorce is out of the question in their circles. To avoid a scandal, they pretend the child is theirs and go on living separate lives.’
‘What about the crystal skull?’ asked Macbeth. ‘The message?’
‘I’m coming to that. When the young mother receives the crystal skull, she’s both overjoyed and devastated. It tells her that the father of her child is alive, but she knows she cannot leave and join him. She has a child and a very powerful husband who will stop at nothing to save face. He has done so once before. She hides the skull and tries to forget—’
‘She doesn’t tell the father about the child?’ interrupted Macbeth, raising his voice again.
‘No. She cannot.’
‘Because she doesn’t love him anymore?’
‘No … because she does!’
‘Is this still hypothetical, or do you have some proof? I have to know!’ demanded Macbeth.
‘If you kill me, you’ll never know.’
‘A clever ploy to stay alive?’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
Jack glanced at his watch again. Two minutes, he thought.
‘You keep looking at your watch,’ said Macbeth. ‘Why? Is time running out, you think?’
‘Perhaps it is,’ said Jack. ‘But not necessarily for me.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Let me show you something,’ said Jack.
‘Go ahead.’
‘It’s outside.’
‘All right.’ Macbeth turned his chair around and wheeled himself to the open door. ‘What is it?’
‘Do you see that boat over there?’ said Jack, pointing to AK-47.
‘What of it?’
‘Let’s call it a vessel of destiny. In exactly two minutes, the rocket launchers and mortars behind those fishing nets will attack your ship.’
Macbeth paled. ‘You’re bluffing,’ he said. He pressed the button on his wheelchair, pulled a gun out of a side pocket and pointed it at Jack.
‘We’ll see soon enough,’ said Jack.
Carlotta appeared almost instantly. ‘Get Johannes; quickly!’ barked Macbeth. ‘Now!’
‘Straight away,’ said Carlotta and hurried out of the cabin.
‘A little concerned?’ said Jack.
‘Not really.’
‘You should be,’ said Jack, laughing, and kicked the gun out of Macbeth’s hand. The gun went off, the bullet missed. Moments later, the first grenade hit the wheelhouse. A steel door flew off its hinges and all the windows exploded, sending a shower of glass raining into the sea below. The second grenade punched a large hole into the portside of the ship just above the waterline, and started a fire in the kitchen.
The two girls in the corridor outside Jack’s cabin were ready. As soon as they heard the first explosion, they went into action. One of them began to scream and turned over her trolley in front of the guard. The second hit the surprised guard over the head with a steel pipe from behind and then quickly unlocked the door to Jack’s cabin. The girls pulled the unconscious guard inside and closed the door.
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Jack had just picked up Macbeth’s gun when Johannes burst into the cabin with one of his men. Jack pointed the gun at Macbeth and walked over to the wheelchair. ‘Gentlemen, drop your weapons and kick them over here,’ he said calmly, holding the gun at Macbeth’s head. ‘Now listen carefully.’
‘Do as he says,’ hissed Macbeth.
‘There are two boats out there with enough firepower aimed at this ship to sink it. You’ve already had a little taste of what they can do. If you look outside, you’ll see that a boarding party is on its way and will reach the ship at any moment now.’ Jack looked at Johannes, who was obviously in charge. ‘Order your men to assemble on deck, unarmed, and with their hands in the air. Clear?’ he said.
Taken completely by surprise, Johannes looked bewildered and uncertain.
‘Now lie face down on the floor and put your hands on the back of your heads where I can see them,’ continued Jack. His time in Afghanistan as a war correspondent had taught Jack how to deal with tense situations involving firearms, and dangerous men.
Macbeth had assessed the situation much faster than Johannes. He understood the seriousness of the predicament he was in. He also understood that to get out of it, he had to keep calm and negotiate. This required diplomacy, not force. ‘Do it!’ he bellowed. This would never have happened with Jan in charge, he thought. Too late.
Out of earshot, Johannes spoke quickly in Afrikaans into the microphone around his neck. All of his men on the ship were radio-connected and could be reached at all times. As the enormity of what was happening began to sink in, Johannes realised that having to surrender to a bunch of ignorant kaffers one hundred metres from the shore and just a short distance from the HAU HQ would mean the end of his career. He would become the laughing stock of his comrades. He was determined to do everything in his power to prevent this from happening, even if it meant going against his orders. This had suddenly become a matter of self-preservation and honour, which went far beyond protecting his employer and following his wishes. His reputation was on the line,
and for a man like Johannes, reputation was everything.
Johannes knew he could rely on his men. Their loyalty was beyond question. As the senior mercenary on board with a fierce reputation and many years of combat experience behind him, the men looked up to him. Instead of telling them to do what Jack had asked, he ordered them to take out the boarding party as soon as they set foot on the ship. He also told the captain to prepare the Calypso for sailing and have the helicopter ready for immediate take-off. Johannes wasn’t going to let a bunch of fucking kaffer pirates take over the ship on his watch. He was preparing for battle, not surrender.
‘What now, Mr Rogan?’ asked Macbeth.
‘Call Carlotta and tell her to bring Dr Rosen and the man in my cabin up here at once. Unharmed, or … and not a word about any of this; clear?’
Macbeth did as he was told.
‘Now please call Dr Rosen. I want to talk to her.’
‘Here,’ said Macbeth, and handed the receiver to Jack.
Jack spoke briefly to Dr Rosen and put down the phone without taking his eyes off the men on the floor.
‘What do we do now?’ asked Macbeth.
‘We wait,’ said Jack cheerfully.
Carlotta knew something was wrong the moment she turned into the corridor leading to Jack’s cabin. The guard wasn’t there! She hurried to the cabin and was about to try the door, when it opened from the inside. A tall black man stood in the doorway, pointing a gun at her. ‘In here, quickly,’ said Kobo.
The guard, still unconscious, was lying on the bed, his hands and feet tied to the posts with bed sheets. The two girls had done an excellent job. Kobo had instructed them to stay in the cabin, lock the door and keep an eye on him. ‘Any trouble, use the pipe,’ he said, and followed Carlotta and Dr Rosen outside.
Macbeth’s stateroom was on the upper deck, which was strictly off limits to the crew and unauthorised personnel. It only took them moments to reach it. While chaos and confusion reigned below after the surprise attack, the upper deck was deserted. Carlotta opened the door and entered, followed by Kobo, his gun at the ready.
‘Sharif will be pleased when you tell him about this,’ Jack said to Kobo and pointed his gun to the two men lying on the floor. ‘Mr Macbeth here will enjoy meeting him. They’ll have much to talk about, don’t you think?’
‘I doubt it,’ said Macbeth.
‘Oh, but you will,’ Jack contradicted Macbeth.
‘What on earth about?’
‘His father. I believe he died right here on this very ship not that long ago … part of your medical experiments.’
Kobo picked up the guns from the floor in front of Macbeth’s wheelchair and handed one to Dr Rosen. ‘I know you can use this,’ he said, a broad grin on his face, ‘but watch these bastards like a hawk.’ Then he reached for his phone and called Sharif.
Sharif’s men jumped into the zodiac and were about to push off, when Lola jumped in after them. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said to Sharif.
‘Not a good idea,’ said Sharif, holding up his AK-47. ‘You have to know how to use one of these … Better stay here with the boy.’
‘I’ve been using guns on our farm back home since I was five,’ scoffed Lola, ‘and I can do hand-to-hand combat like a US Marine. Can you see that helicopter over there?’ Lola pointed to the Calypso. ‘That’s a Robinson R44 on the landing pad. Can you or one of your men fly it?’
‘Of course not.’
‘But I can. Think about it.’
‘All right; hop in. And better take this.’ Sharif handed Lola his handgun, a Glock. ‘And keep your head down!’
‘If she’s going, I’m coming too,’ shouted Tristan, excitedly waving his hands.
‘No way, buster!’ said Lola. ‘You are staying right here with Baashi, and that’s final! Let’s go and kick some ass, Sharif!’
The boarding party from AK-47-2 reached the Calypso first. The men ran up the temporary gangway suspended by steel cables from above, their assault rifles at the ready. As soon as they set foot on deck, they came under fire from all sides. Two of the men were killed instantly. Another dived overboard and two of his comrades managed to take cover and return fire.
As Sharif’s zodiac approached the Calypso, they could hear gunfire coming from above. Sharif knew at once something was wrong. This wasn’t the reception he had expected.
‘Let’s go,’ said Sharif. He checked the grenades dangling from his belt and jumped onto the swaying gangway. ‘You stay behind us,’ he said to Lola, ‘until we clear the deck.’
‘Okay.’
The firefight on deck was fierce. Sharif’s men, all experienced raiders, spread out and took cover. They knew exactly what to do. Two of the men climbed along the side of the ship just below the deck towards the bow. They would try to outflank the enemy and attack from behind. Sharif rolled one of his grenades across the deck to flush out the fighters. The grenade exploded with a bang so loud that it almost split the eardrums. Sharif could see movement near a doorway and fired. One of Johannes’ men was hit in the chest and collapsed on deck. Another man tried to pull him inside and was shot in the shoulder. Two down, thought Sharif, and lobbed another grenade towards the door.
The fire in the kitchen was spreading. The cook and his assistants desperately tried to douse the flames, but failed. The heat was becoming unbearable and they had to retreat. When two large tins of cooking oil caught fire, the flames became unstoppable and raced towards a gas cylinder attached to one of the large stoves. The cylinder exploded.
The force of the explosion was so powerful it enlarged the hole in the side of the ship, forcing the steel plates below the waterline apart. Water gushed into the ship, flooded the floor of the kitchen and cascaded down into the engine room. With fire spreading rapidly above and tonnes of water rushing in below, Calypso was doomed.
Tristan heard shooting and explosions coming from the Calypso and could see flames leaping through a large hole in the side of the ship just above the waterline.
‘The ship is on fire!’ shouted Tristan, pointing to the burning vessel. The flames appeared to be spreading. The glass in two of the portholes further up exploded and hungry flames shot outside, feasting on the oxygen.
‘We can’t just stay here and watch, Baashi,’ said Tristan. ‘We must do something! I can see things … and feel …’
‘There’s a dingy at the back,’ said Baashi excitedly. He too was disappointed. For him, having to stay behind was torture. He desperately wanted to be part of the action. ‘What the hell; let’s go!’ he said, and quickly lowered the dinghy into the water.
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‘What’s that?’ asked Jack.
‘Fire alarm,’ said Macbeth. ‘They’ve set my ship on fire! Black scum!’ he fumed. ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’
Then a voice boomed through the microphones. ‘Abandon ship; abandon ship!’ repeated the voice with chilling monotony as the siren tone became more urgent.
‘Abandon ship, for Christ’s sake!’ shouted Macbeth, squirming in his wheelchair. ‘Can’t you hear?’
Jack looked at Kobo. ‘I’ll go down and try to make contact with Sharif,’ said Kobo. He checked his gun and hurried out of the cabin.
Johannes realised he had to do something. To lie helplessly on the floor while the ship was on fire and his men were fighting below, putting their lives on the line, was unthinkable. He was prepared to risk his own life to change that.
Inch by inch, he moved towards Dr Rosen standing closest to him until he was within striking distance. The shrill sound of the siren appeared to be distracting everyone. Jack felt the floor tilt ever so slightly to the right and the deck began to shudder and groan under the stress. The ship’s listing, he thought. It must be taking on water! We’re sinking!
Then suddenly, Johannes made his move. He twisted his body to the left, grabbed Dr Rosen’s ankle with his right hand and pulled it towards him. Dr Rosen lost her balance, dropped her gun and fell on top of him. Johannes put his left a
rm around Dr Rosen’s throat in a stranglehold like a wrestler and used her as a shield. Before Jack could react and shoot, Johannes was already moving towards the door. He almost stepped on Dr Rosen’s gun and quickly kicked it towards his comrade lying on the floor. By then, it was too late; Jack couldn’t fire without the risk of hitting Dr Rosen.
Dr Rosen’s gun was now within easy reach of the other man. He rolled to the right and picked it up. Jack saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, turned, and fired. The man’s head exploded in a bloody mess just as Johannes disappeared through the door.
In the corridor outside, everything was quiet. Johannes let go of Dr Rosen’s throat, hit her hard in the chest with his elbow and ran. Dr Rosen fell against the wall, hit her head and slid to the floor, dazed and bleeding.
Jack backed towards the open door to have a look. Dr Rosen was lying on the floor, blood oozing out of a cut above her left ear; otherwise, the corridor was deserted. Jack quickly grabbed her under the arms and pulled her inside without taking his eyes off Macbeth, and shut the door.
‘How are you?’ asked Jack.
‘All right, I think,’ said Dr Rosen, her speech slurred as she tried to sit up.
‘Now it’s just us,’ said Jack, pointing his gun at Macbeth. ‘What a difference a few minutes can make, eh?’
‘Let’s be sensible. Get me out of here and we’ll settle this,’ said Macbeth. ‘Name your price.’
‘I’ll think about it, but first, I want a few answers,’ said Jack.
‘What do you want to know?’ growled Macbeth.
‘I’ll tell you—’
‘I have a question of my own,’ interrupted Dr Rosen.
‘Go ahead,’ said Jack.
‘I visited that dreadful camp of the dying. Terminal cancer patients one and all, receiving the same experimental drug treatment on their way to the cemetery. I saw the records. Tell me, is that how Blackburn Pharmaceuticals conducts drug trials? Causing such suffering to find a way to prevent it?’ Dr Rosen looked Macbeth in the eye. ‘How do you justify it, or is it all just for profit? Anything goes. Is that it? I want to understand. I need to understand.’
The Hidden Genes of Professor K Page 41
