Dead of Night

by Michael Stanley

  Crys had no idea what she was going to do. They had assault rifles, and she didn’t even have her .22 target rifle. The best she could do was to pick up one of the stones that formed the border of a flower bed – bigger than a baseball, but smaller than a melon. It was a bit unwieldy for her, but better than nothing.

  She kept looking out for people searching for her, but saw and heard no one. That worried her.

  Was she walking into a trap?

  As she moved closer to the back of the house, she heard shouting. She couldn’t make out the words, only the anger. That was followed by a cry of pain. Then more shouting. More pain. She couldn’t tell who it was.

  Then everything went quiet. Somehow that was more ominous.

  Had they killed someone? She prayed it wasn’t Michael.

  Please, let it not be him.

  Crys looked around, then moved up to the wall of the house, her heart thumping. She’d just reached the front corner, when there was another shout, followed by a string of shots. That had to be the assault rifle.

  There was another shout, followed by what sounded like an argument.

  She slipped around the corner, up to the open living-room window where she’d been before, and peeked around.

  Johannes and Anton were still on the floor, and so was Søren now. Michael’s position hadn’t changed. Crys’s heart constricted.

  Was he still alive?

  There was no way of knowing.

  Dinh’s three men were looking on, guns at the ready. Bongani was close to the window, watching the proceedings, rifle in hand, and Dinh was pointing his automatic rifle at Anton. She was so close she could hear what he was saying. She held her breath.

  ‘I know you have many horns here. You open the safe now or you’ll be very sorry!’

  He kicked Anton in the head. There was no reaction.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Johannes shouted. ‘Our horns are in Phalaborwa, at a bank.’ Dinh turned and kicked him too. Johannes groaned in pain.

  ‘You know nothing!’ Dinh shouted. ‘Your father brought all the horns here for his Portuguese friends. They are all here.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Johannes protested, trying to sit up.

  Dinh pointed his rifle towards Johannes and let off a burst that hit the floor just next to Johannes’s head.

  ‘You keep quiet. Your father must give me the combination of the safe.’

  ‘If you kill him, he won’t be able to tell you.’ It was Søren. ‘And none of us know it.’

  Dinh didn’t say anything for a few moments. ‘Get water. Give it to him,’ he said eventually, pointing at Anton.

  One of his men left the room.

  Then Dinh turned towards Bongani and pointed his rifle at him. Crys jerked her head away from the window, hoping he hadn’t seen her.

  ‘You think I am stupid, hey? I know you work here, and you work for the Portuguese man.’

  Crys heard Bongani’s voice. ‘No, boss. Nobody tells me anything. I let you in because I hoped you would give me a little money. My family has no food. But I don’t know where Mr Malan has anything.’

  She felt sick.

  ‘We will see who you work for,’ Dinh said. ‘When the old man wakes up, if he doesn’t tell me, you will shoot his son. If he still doesn’t tell me, you will shoot the other man. That will prove you are my man.’

  She peeked again. Dinh was now looking at one of his men trying to revive Anton. The man poured water over Anton’s head and tried to make him drink. There was no reaction.

  ‘You’ve killed him, you bastard!’ Johannes shouted and started to stand up.

  Dinh sprayed another burst next to him. ‘Lie down, or I will shoot you.’

  Johannes collapsed.

  Crys pulled back again, desperately trying to think what she could do. Her stone was no use at all – she needed a gun. She had no idea where the Malans kept theirs, and the gun cabinet was probably locked anyway.

  Could she lure one of the men outside and disarm him? Not a good idea – the chances of success were close to zero.

  Should she just wait for Mabula and his men? Wait and hope?

  That was the safe way, but almost certainly was going to be too late for the men in the house. Maybe for Michael, it was already too late. She choked back a sob.

  Then it struck her that Bongani wasn’t with Dinh and his men. He’d helped them, but from what Dinh had said, he was dispensable. And she could see from his body language that he was upset after what Dinh had said to him. She realised then that Bongani was her only chance – it was a huge risk, but better than nothing. But how could she get his attention?

  She could distract Dinh and his men by throwing her rock through the window of another room. But then they’d know someone was outside. She had no chance against assault rifles. She needed a firearm herself. Perhaps she could use fire again – as she had in Vietnam. But she’d have the same problem if she set a chalet on fire. Or one of their vehicles. She’d be dead meat without a weapon.

  Her best bet seemed to be to try to attract Bongani’s attention from the window. Bongani was the closest to it, so maybe she could whisper to him or tap lightly on the windowpane. She wondered which would get the message across that it was her outside, but cause the least reaction inside.

  She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. And a few more. Then she moved forwards.

  She peered around the window. Everyone was watching the man trying to revive Anton. She tapped the window lightly. No reaction from Bongani. She tapped again, a bit harder, hoping he’d hear. Still nothing. Now she was worried that one of the others would hear. She tapped again, harder still.

  This time Bongani looked around.

  She moved so he could see her face and put her finger to her lips. Then pulled back.

  Will he raise the alarm?

  She held her breath, half expecting Dinh’s men to come running outside. She didn’t hear anything.

  She peeked around the window again. Bongani had moved closer, blocking Dinh’s view.

  It was all the indication she needed.

  ‘Bongani,’ she whispered, ‘nod your head if you can hear me.’

  Bongani barely moved his head, but it was a nod. She was sure.

  ‘I’m going to throw a rock through the kitchen window.’ She saw his head move again, almost imperceptibly.

  ‘Run to investigate, then try to escape through the front door. I’ll wait there. Bring the rifle.’

  Another tiny movement of his head.

  ‘I’m going.’

  Another nod.

  Crys slid along the walls of the house to the back, where the kitchen was, and picked up another rock. Her heart was pounding, her body tense. This was it.

  She took a few paces back and threw one rock as hard as she could at the biggest pane of glass.

  There was a crash and the sound of falling shards.

  As Crys ran around the house to the front door, she could hear shouts from inside. As she reached the porch, the front door opened and Bongani started to run out.

  There was a burst of automatic fire, and Bongani crashed to the ground. His rifle slid from his hand. Crys grabbed it and ran into the darkness. As soon as she reached one of the trees, she hid behind it and looked back.

  No one was following. Yet.

  She’d got Bongani killed.

  She started to sob. He was her friend and trusted her and now he was dead.

  What else could she have done?

  She wiped the tears from her face and then checked the rifle. It was the same as she’d been given on the poacher hunt. A .303 bolt action. She checked that the safety was off and tried to remember how many bullets it held. Was it four in total, or four in the magazine and one in the breech? Damn! She couldn’t remember. Better to assume four in total. Not enough … Now what should she do?

  She took a few deep breaths to try to calm herself and assessed the situation. Dinh now knew there was someone outside. He could find out who by coercing
Johannes. She wondered what his reaction would be when he found out it was her. If he was a typical, traditional Vietnamese man, he’d probably discount her abilities. That was good. It gave her an advantage. Almost certainly, he’d send one of his men to find her. And she was pretty certain he’d enjoy hurting her. Maybe that would stop his men from just killing her if they found her. Also good. Another advantage.

  He had also probably written off Bongani. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t go looking for the rifle. If he did, though, he’d know she was armed. She wanted to go and help Bongani, to see if he was alive. But she didn’t dare do that if she wanted any chance of rescuing the others – of saving Michael. She just had to hope Bongani would survive.

  Mabula was probably still forty minutes or so away, so he wasn’t going to be of any help. And she didn’t know where the Malans’ emergency network was to alert the neighbours. So, no help there.

  What was Dinh going to do to his hostages? If Anton didn’t recover, she was sure he’d kill them all and leave. But even if Anton opened the safe and gave him the horns – if there actually were some – Dinh would take them and then still kill everyone. He was in too deep to leave any witnesses.

  So, her first priority had to be Dinh. If she took him out, there was a chance the others would run. Hopefully. That was a lot easier to think about than to actually achieve.

  As she was trying to decide what to do, she glanced back at the house. There were no lights on now. Dinh wasn’t taking any chances of her picking him off from the outside. He wanted her to go into the house, where he would have a huge advantage.

  She definitely wasn’t doing that. She’d wait and see what happened…

  For what seemed like an hour, but probably was no longer than five or ten minutes, Crys did nothing other than peek around the tree.

  She’d heard nothing from the house and seen no one moving outside it. She was sure, though, that Dinh had stationed someone in a strategic position to spot her if she tried to get close. Could she flush that man out and take care of him without exposing herself? Running anywhere was out of the question because of the firepower he would have. It didn’t take a marksman to neutralise someone when using an assault rifle.

  She had to tempt him out of hiding so she could see him and not the other way around. Then Crys remembered what Mabula had said: Climb a tree – searchers never look up. If she could lure him close to her tree, maybe she could shoot him before he shot her.

  She looked up. The tree was reasonably big, but it had a lot of leaves, which would make seeing him difficult. She took a breath and moved to the next tree, keeping low to the ground. This tree was much better. The leaves were thick, but started higher up. And it looked as though she could climb to the lower branches quite easily.

  Now to get the man’s attention.

  She was about to reveal her position. Crys hesitated. She’d been in real peril these last few days, but usually by accident. Now she was calling danger to her.

  Was she mad? she thought. And immediately the image of Michael came to her, the blood around his head. And she knew why she was doing this.

  Again, she was tempted to follow Mabula’s instructions. But finally, she steeled herself, squared her shoulders and took a big breath of African night air.

  ‘Throw down your gun,’ she shouted. ‘You are surrounded. You’ll die if you don’t.’

  As she hoped, the answer was a burst of firing in her general direction. She aimed where she thought the man was and fired a single shot.

  Three bullets left. Was he aware that she was alone?

  Another burst of fire answered her shot.

  She climbed the tree until she was about five metres up. It was harder than she’d expected because of her injured hand, and her sore shoulder didn’t help. But once she was up, she could see the ground in all directions for about thirty metres. If he came into the circle…

  ‘You okay, Lee?’ The shout came from the direction of the house.

  ‘No problem,’ came the response. Then silence.

  Crys sat and waited. At first, she felt like the cat, patiently waiting for the mouse to come and play. But as the minutes ticked by, she started feeling more like the mouse. Where was he? Was he watching this tree? Was it safe to get down? Could he see her?

  Then she heard a scuffle. Barely a noise in the night, but definitely human. Her heart beat faster, but her senses sharpened and her fear evaporated. She became totally focused. She heard the noise again. She sensed it came from her left. Better than the right for shooting. Crys shifted the rifle close to her shoulder. And waited. Calm. Ready.

  She had to do something, because if Mabula didn’t arrived soon, it would be all over. She could never match their firepower.

  Somehow, she had to get the man to show himself without giving herself away, halfway up the tree.

  She took her shoes off and lifted the rifle into shooting position. She could only hope he would react with a spray of bullets when she dropped them.

  She took a breath and threw them out of the tree. She heard them hit the ground. Almost immediately there was a burst of fire from a tree nearby. She aimed at the muzzle flashes and fired.

  The firing stopped. All she could hear were groans.

  She’d hit him. But how badly?

  Crys slipped down the tree as quietly as she could and moved away, keeping her tree between her and the man. She hoped there were no thorns on the ground.

  ‘You okay, Lee?’ The same shout from the house. This time there was no reply.

  ‘Lee, you okay?’

  She guessed it would take them a few minutes to decide what to do. She made use of that time by making a wide arc, ending up behind the tree where the man had been. He was still groaning.

  When Crys reached the tree, she could just make out the shape of someone on the ground on the other side. She thought she saw the rifle lying a few metres away. Or was it a branch? She wasn’t sure.

  She had to find out. And she hoped she didn’t have to use another bullet.

  ‘Throw your gun away and roll onto your stomach,’ she said from behind the tree.

  No gunfire, but no response. Only groaning.

  She stepped out, pointing her rifle at the body on the ground. It was curled in a ball, still groaning. She picked up his rifle and found her shoes. One down, but there were still three heavily armed men in the house.

  Crys took a deep breath and started to think about what to do next.

  Chapter 36

  Crys looked back at the house. Now there was light in one window – upstairs. She thought it was the one where she’d overheard Anton talking about some deal the previous morning.

  She had to assume that one of Dinh’s men was either outside, lying in wait for her to show herself, or was covering the entrances to the house. As far as she could remember there were three of those: the front door – the one Bongani had tried to come out of; the kitchen door, next to the window she’d broken; and a side door off the sitting room onto the porch. Her guess was that they were all locked, and the kitchen and side doors barricaded. That left only one door to guard. It was the most likely scenario since the two vehicles were parked close to the front of the house.

  Crys took a look at the rifle she’d grabbed. How did it work?

  She assumed that when she pulled the trigger, it would shoot for as long as she kept it pulled. She had no idea what the recoil was like. Was it strong? Would it push her back? Would she be able to control it? Would the gun even hold its aim or just spray bullets in the general direction it was pointed?

  Were there even any bullets left in the magazine?

  The man had fired three bursts, but she didn’t know what that meant. If she decided to use it, she would have to be ready for it to be empty. There were so many variables. But she’d come this far. She wouldn’t back out now.

  She crept closer to the house, hugging the trees wherever possible. She stopped when she was close enough to see in the upstairs window – about for
ty or fifty metres away. There was nothing to see, but she could hear voices. Angry voices. She was too far away to hear what they were saying.

  She wondered if that’s where Anton had his horns and money – in the upstairs room. Maybe there was a safe up there, and Dinh was trying to get Anton to open it – if Anton was alive that was.

  Crys longed to turn on her phone to see how much longer it was likely to be before Mabula arrived, but she didn’t dare. Any glimmer of light would be enough to attract the attention of anyone hidden outside the house. Maybe even from inside the house – someone looking through a darkened window. She couldn’t give up the slightest advantage. She just had to hope Mabula was getting close.

  Until he arrived, her best option was to keep shaking things up, keep distracting Dinh and his men, as she had already. If she could keep their focus on her, perhaps Michael and the others might – just might – be able to escape.

  She leaned the .303 against the tree and moved slowly about fifteen or twenty metres away. Then she placed the stock of the assault rifle firmly against her shoulder, just as she would her little .22 back home. She aimed it at the lighted window and pulled the trigger for about one second. Crys was deafened and thrown backwards. She immediately dropped to the ground and scuttled back to her tree. There was no response. No return fire. She looked up. She had no idea whether she’d hit the window, but the light was now off.

  She waited a few minutes, then moved back, away from the house. When she heard and saw nothing, she moved slowly around the house towards Dinh’s two vehicles. If she could make Dinh think she was disabling his vehicles, perhaps she could draw his men out of the house.

  Eventually, Crys was behind a tree and had the two vehicles between her and the building. She assumed Dinh would have put a guard on them since he needed them to make his getaway. She watched carefully for several minutes, but saw nobody. But since it was still pretty dark, she couldn’t be sure she was right.

  She picked up a stone and threw it as far as she could away from her. She heard it hit the ground. No response. But maybe they were getting smart and were waiting for her to show herself. She didn’t like that thought one bit.