An Ordinary Day

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An Ordinary Day Page 9

by Trevor Corbett


  ‘Please don’t tell him I’ve spoken to you.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘I just want our lives to be normal again, Kevin.’

  ‘I understand. I promise I’ll do what I can.’

  Shezi was back at work the next day. He looked terrible. His ear was swollen and his eyes bloodshot. A bruise could clearly be seen around his neck. Durant called him into an empty office near the conference room as they waited for Masondo to arrive for the briefing.

  ‘Are you okay, broer?’ Durant asked briskly.

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘You told Thandi you fell off a ladder?’

  ‘Yebo.’

  ‘You didn’t fall off a ladder.’

  Shezi shook his head.

  ‘Are you alright, though?’

  ‘I owed some guys money. I took a few punches. They still don’t have their money, so it was worth it.’

  ‘How much do you need, Mike? Don’t do this, man, you’ll get yourself killed some day. Guys like that don’t mess around. If you need help, just ask. We’ll send a damn hat around if we need to.’

  Shezi shook his head.

  ‘I can’t accept your help now. Sorry, Kevin, it’s a cultural thing. It’s my problem and I have to sort it out myself, with my family. I promise, when I really need help, I’ll call you. I promise.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll be there for you, man.’

  Shezi shook Durant’s hand, pulled him in close and hugged him. When he spoke, his voice trembled. ‘I know you’re here for me, and it means a lot.’

  ‘Are you ready for this briefing?’

  ‘I spent the day in bed yesterday. I had plenty of time to prepare.’

  Masondo, Durant and Amina took notes vigorously as Shezi spoke. They tried to ignore his swollen face.

  ‘Ali, I believe, is involved in smuggling something specific for the Libyans. He has a reputation for being a smuggler of all sorts of contraband, as we know. We know he’s very well connected overseas and uses his shipping containers to transport illicit goods all over the show. We’ve identified a company that he’s been e-mailing in Malta: it’s a Libyan industrial investment company which is probably fronting for Miss Elhasomi. The e-mails just talk about general commodities and methods of payment. Now it seems like Ali is doing some business with the Libyans, using Elhasomi as a go-between. The parcel that was given to Ali in the dead drop at the parcel counter was either money or a list of commodities required, or both.’

  Masondo raised his hand as if in a classroom, and without waiting said: ‘What’s he buying from the Libyans?’

  ‘Not buying, chief, I think he’s selling. I think the Libyans are buying something from him.’

  Durant stood up and tried to ignore the smell of sour milk on his shirt. It had been too late to change after baby had thrown up on him as he was leaving for work.

  ‘It’s probably WMD. Why else go through such a complicated procedure? It’s not unusual for embargoed states to use intermediaries to buy on their behalf. Hey, South Africa did it. That’s the only way you’re going to acquire nuclear or biological weapons.’

  ‘Don’t speculate, Durant,’ Masondo said.

  ‘We know Libya wants them, chief. They’ve been trying for years. We’re the perfect country for diversion. We’ve got first-world communication systems, banking systems, transport systems. And we’ve got deeply ingrained organised crime structures with a lot of money. Look at Ali – driven by money. For their part, Libya has plenty of petro dollars, especially to spend on Gaddafi’s desire to be the leader of Africa.’

  Amina nodded. ‘If he can get his hands on some nukes, he’ll unquestionably be the dominant power in Africa. Then we all need to worry. Who’s going to argue? The au? He already thinks he’s the founder of the au anyway.’

  ‘Leave the politics for a minute, Amina,’ Masondo said sharply. ‘Tell me what we must do, Durant.’

  ‘We must do what we set out to do in the first place. We must catch Ali doing something wrong. We’ve never been able to do that.’

  Amina concurred. ‘We just need an opportunity, that’s all. Something that we can tell the police so they can go and arrest him.’

  Shezi shook his head. ‘Ali’s a small player compared to Elhasomi. He’s just a legman; she’s the facilitator. I think we need to shift our focus to Elhasomi.’

  Masondo spoke loudly. ‘What have we got on Ali, anyway? He picked up a parcel from the counter. We can’t ask the police to arrest him for that.’

  Durant raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I know. It’s frustrating. We know he’s bad, we know he’s a big player, but knowing isn’t the same as proving. We’ll watch him. Whatever he’s going to do, we must catch him doing it.’

  Amina frowned. ‘The only problem is the authorisation for the telephone tap expires next week. Do we have enough to reapply?’

  Masondo smiled wryly. ‘Tell the judge the target’s picking up other people’s parcels at supermarkets.’ He stood up, and his authoritative voice echoed around the small conference room. ‘Whatever you’re looking for, you need to find it before that authority dries up.’

  Shezi raised his hand. ‘What about plan B?’

  Durant provided the answer. ‘Plan b’s a long shot. We were incredibly lucky once. We dangled our man and forced Uptown Girl to get close to him. We’re only halfway there. The second half is the hard part. We can’t force Uptown to make contact with him again, but if she does use the apartment we’ve dangled, and if we can rig it in time and if whoever stays there is actually involved in anything, then plan b will save us all. At this point, the source hasn’t heard from her.’

  Shezi folded his arms. ‘It’s been less than a week. We need to hold thumbs. In the meantime, I think we need to reconsider deploying permanent surveillance on Ali. I’m scared if he’s tipped off he’ll drop everything.’

  Durant shrugged. ‘Or we’ll catch him in a criminal act.’

  Masondo walked towards the door. ‘Whatever you need. But I want a success after all of this. We’ve spent a lot of time and money on this guy – I don’t want him to beat us.’

  ‘We’ve got the element of surprise, hopefully,’ Durant said.

  ‘Exactly. He doesn’t know he’s a target. That should give us the edge. Now get to work. Except you, Durant. You go home. Your wife’s phoned me about ten times already and chastised me for working you so hard.’

  On his way home, Durant convinced himself not to raise the issue of Stephanie phoning his boss. The issue was like a kryton, as small as a cellphone, yet the trigger which could detonate a nuclear bomb. He arrived home, still angry, but composed.

  Stephanie was in the lounge watching a soap opera when Durant walked in. She didn’t say anything when Durant kissed her. ‘It sounds like Alexis is having a good sleep,’ he said.

  ‘Probably,’ Stephanie retorted tersely without taking her eyes off the TV. ‘She’s with my mother.’

  Durant dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter. He felt his shoulders tense up and all the veins in his head seemed to constrict, blurring his vision.

  ‘Why?’ He managed the single word.

  ‘Because you’re never here.’ She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the TV screen.

  Durant sat on the kitchen stool and folded his arms. The composure he had clung to on the drive home was crumbling. Beads of perspiration trickled down the inside of his shirt.

  ‘You let your Mom take her?’

  ‘I didn’t “let my Mom take her” … She didn’t kidnap the child. I asked her to take her. I couldn’t cope.’

  Durant wiped his face with his palm. ‘You seem to be coping okay now. I mean, you’re …’

  ‘Don’t lecture me on coping. You’ve got no idea, no idea what I’ve been through these last few days.’

  ‘Babe, I know it’s been tough.’

  ‘But you don’t know, do you? For you, nothing’s changed. You still wake up in the morning, go to work, spend the whole day t
rying to save the world, and then come home at five o’clock.’

  ‘I’ve tried to be here as much as I can. I’ve tried to split myself in two, but that hasn’t worked. I’ve spent every night with Alexis, holding her, loving her, feeding her, changing her nappies. I don’t see it as a sacrifice; I do it gladly. I’ve rushed home from the office as soon as I can to be with you and Alex.’

  ‘Wow, you’re a real hero.’

  ‘I’ve tried to delegate as much as I can to Mike and Amina, and they’ve gladly accommodated me. But you …’ His voice trailed away almost to a whisper. ‘I’m really trying … I know it’s not perfect. I wanted so much to take leave and just be at home all the time. But this … this project – it’s all coming to a head – something I’ve waited for, for years.’

  Stephanie didn’t respond for a moment, to Durant’s surprise. Then, eyes still on the tv, she said, ‘I took baby to my mother because I needed to see the doctor.’

  Durant came over to where Stephanie was sitting. ‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?’

  ‘Thanks for finally noticing. This baby thing has been too overwhelming for me. I had to see a psychologist. I had to talk to her about what I’m going through.’

  Durant sat beside her on the sofa. ‘Why don’t you talk to me? Can’t you trust me with your feelings and emotions? You know I’ve always been here for you.’

  ‘You know, Kevin, I’m not so sure any more. I always thought that, I always hoped that, but it seems like maybe it’s not true.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘I know you’re always there for Mr Masondo and Mike Shezi and Amina … They just have to call and you jump, but me … I’m not so sure.’

  Durant nodded. He knew he couldn’t argue with her. His loyalty to his work had, at some point, overtaken his loyalty to Stephanie. While she had been busying herself with her career and her ambitions, he too had been sucked into a totally dependent relationship with his career.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly, and put his hand on hers. ‘I know I take my work very seriously, but so were you a few weeks ago. I think we both lost sight of our priorities at some point. Baby’s reminded us of what’s really important.’

  Stephanie looked at Durant, her eyes reflecting a sadness he hadn’t seen in years. ‘It’s called “post-natal depression”,’ she said simply. ‘That’s what the psychologist called it. I’ve heard of it, I’ve read about it and I’ve spoken to women who have had it. Now I’ve got it.’

  Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘I’m really sorry. If it was my fault in any way …’

  ‘It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just something that’s always been inside me – and baby’s brought it out.’ ‘But we’ll work through it. You’ll be fine soon, and you’ll look back and think how silly the whole thing was.’

  ‘The psychologist wasn’t so optimistic. She said it could take a while.’

  ‘A while? Really?’

  ‘I’ve got to see her again tomorrow. I really want to try and get better and maybe she can help me.’

  Durant looked at Stephanie’s drawn face and dishevelled hair and he hardly recognised her.

  ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to get you better,’ he said, and embraced her softly.

  The kryton had engaged and he feared that this was only the start of the nuclear winter.

  5

  Scott handed Baker a CD, which he slid into the computer on his desk.

  ‘It’s a translated copy of the original CD which Ali gave to Vitoli yesterday. Ali got the original in a parcel which he picked up from a parcel counter.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘No, a supermarket in Durban.’

  ‘Does he know who left the parcel there?’

  ‘No, boss, no idea. Got the voucher in the post. Instructions to take it to the parcel counter at that store after three. The parcel was there, he handed in the disc and, voila, the CD.’

  Baker rubbed his chin in thought. ‘It’s tradecraft 101, a simple dead letter box.’

  ‘Yeah, but also pretty elegant.’

  ‘You gotta give it to the Libyans. They got style. There’s password protection on this file.’

  ‘Try Salem. S-A-L-E-M.’

  Baker punched in the word on his keyboard. ‘I assume that wasn’t just a lucky guess.’

  ‘The password was in the instructions. Ali gave it to us.’

  ‘Salem. What’s it mean?’

  ‘It could be a name, or just a word. I think it means ‘peace’ as in Jerusalem. But when you look at the document, I’m sure the irony won’t be lost on you.’

  Baker glanced down the list of items. ‘Fermenter, 1000 litres, made of non-corrodible material (borosilicate glass, polished stainless steel or polished aluminium) with double-sealing joints within the steam containment area, capable of in situ sterilisation in a closed state. Centrifugal separator with a flow of at least 300 litres per hour. Cross-flow filtration equipment, P2 containment housing, independently ventilated protective full suits. Equipment for the micro-encapsulation of live micro-organisms …’

  Baker looked up from his monitor. ‘This is a nightmare scenario. This list is, what? Six pages long?’

  Scott nodded. ‘Check the end, boss.’

  Baker paged down to the last paragraph.

  ‘Stated use: pharmaceutical production of tuberculosis antibiotics for South African market. Supplier: Industrial Reactors Ltd, Canada. Payment: 9 million US dollars. Export address: Durban harbour. No installation or technical assistance necessary. High confidentiality advised – South African government playing down TB incidence rate as it reflects on HIV infection rate.’

  Scott motioned towards Baker’s computer. ‘I think it’s pretty clear what they want, boss. A fermenter’s legitimately used for the manufacture of antibiotics. But also for biological agents for use in weapons of mass destruction.’

  ‘Not on our watch, son.’

  ‘Damn right, boss.’

  Baker stood up and moved around his desk. ‘What else do we know?’

  ‘The Canadian company sells the fermenter and all the other biological equipment to a front company Ali sets up, thinking the end-user is a local company making TB antibiotics.’

  Baker nodded. ‘But the shipment will probably barely touch South African shores. Somewhere between Halifax and Durban, that container’ll be diverted and end up in Tripoli harbour.’

  ‘And – what do you know? – an instant biological warfare factory. All they’ll need are some nice freeze-dried bacterial cultures from some repository in the world. And there’re many of those.’

  ‘I know. I lived close to one for years where you could buy an anthrax culture for under $100.’

  ‘And once you’ve got the starting culture, the rest is easy. You just keep feeding it in your fermenter until you’ve cultivated enough to infect a city, a country or a continent.’

  ‘Nine million dollars?’ Baker asked, looking up through his glasses.

  ‘Payment to Industrial Reactors Ltd. There’ll be more for the shipping and all the arrangements Ali will have to make: setting up a front company, smoothing out the paperwork, customs and so on. I reckon the whole operation could cost double that.’

  ‘Now, has Ali been told how payment will be made?’

  ‘No mention of it. At this stage, he only knows as much as we do. I think.’

  ‘What do you mean, “I think”?’

  ‘Well, Vitoli said Ali’s a smart guy. He’s worried that he’s already got some of the funds as a down payment. But he’s not declaring it.’

  ‘Is he saying we can’t trust Ali?’

  ‘He’s saying we can trust him up to a point. But we need to remember that the guy’s a crook.’

  ‘Yeah, I think there’s no question …’

  ‘He’s used to lying and cheating. He’s also a businessman. To him, this is just a business transaction; he’s got no real loyalty to us. In fact, he’d screw us if he could.’

&n
bsp; ‘So we call in the boys from Virginia, right? How big do we make this thing?’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be big because we’ve got control over the importer. Ali’s the Libyans’ guy. They’re working through him and he’s talking to us. We could inform – what’s it? – Industrial Reactors in Canada and stop the shipment. But we first need to identify other local players: the Libyan diplomats involved in procurement.’

  ‘Do we liaise it?’

  ‘Not yet, boss. We’ve got to identify the money trail. Then we can maybe use this thing to our political advantage – force Gaddafi to adopt a more moderate stance in the Middle East. I mean, Libya’s in total violation of the Biological Weapons Convention, which they’ve ratified.’

  ‘Steady, Paul, don’t get ahead of yourself. Let’s take small steps here. What’s our next move? Do we involve State, the boys at Langley, Interpol, the South Africans, the Canadians?’

  ‘No, boss. I recommend at this stage we just keep it at the operational level. Once we’ve wrapped it up, then we can let the ambassador take it up at political level. Once Langley gets it, they’ll send out twenty agents and an aircraft carrier’ll sail into Durban harbour. We’ve got control over this thing, boss, we can handle it right here. Once we’ve got further details, we can liaise with the FBI boys.’

  ‘And Homeland Security.’

  ‘Yeah, later. You know these guys never let us know about their operations till the last minute.’

  ‘Paul, I’m trusting you ’cos you’ve been here a lot longer than me and you know the ropes. One more meeting with Ali, then we need to know everything: the funding, the contacts, the who, what, where, how. Then we call a briefing and this thing’s wrapped up. I can hold Langley off for another few days maximum. Then I need to tell ’em what’s happening.’

  ‘Boss, our asset’s in place. Joe Vitoli’s our best field agent and he’s getting Ali to talk. We’re all set.’

  Amina looked grim. ‘It’s so frustrating. We know Ali’s busy with something.’

  Durant nodded and glanced at a ship slowly negotiating itself through the harbour entrance, its orange, red and blue containers stacked six-high on the deck. ‘Horizons’ was hardly an apt name for the restaurant; Durban’s humidity usually shrouded the sea’s horizon in a grey veil. But the food was cheap and it had become a kind of refuge from the office. It was easier talking about real-world issues out of the office and in the real world.

 

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