She waited a few more minutes, then put the assault rifle to her shoulder, braced herself, and pulled the trigger, spraying one of the vehicles with bullets. Immediately she ducked behind the tree, waiting for return fire. There was none. Perhaps Dinh wasn’t as smart as she’d thought.
Crys waited a moment, then started moving to a position where she could give the second vehicle a going over. She could see no one and heard nothing.
She’d only taken a couple of steps, when a figure stepped out in front of her.
‘Drop your guns.’ Crys could see the man’s assault rifle pointed straight at her chest. She froze. She had no option. She dropped both rifles.
‘Hands on head. Dinh looking forward to seeing you again.’
He jabbed her in the back and started pushing her towards the front door.
‘Dinh, I have her,’ the man shouted in Vietnamese. ‘Open the door.’
Crys cursed herself for being so stupid.
‘Move,’ the man said, pushing his gun hard into her back. There wasn’t much she could do. She took a small step forwards.
‘Quick. Move.’
Another push.
Crys thought what Dinh might do to her and stopped. She wasn’t going to make this easy.
‘Move,’ the man screamed. He jammed his rifle into her kidneys, making her gasp with pain.
‘Walk.’ Another brutal jab.
She heard someone running towards them. The rifle left her back in the direction of the footsteps and let off a burst. Then, even through her partial deafness from the firing, she heard a crack followed by a cry of agony.
She turned around to see the figure drop what looked like a tyre lever and jerk the rifle from the man’s hand and put him in a headlock. The two fell to the ground, each trying to gain an edge. The Vietnamese man was pulling desperately at the arm around his neck; the figure was clinging on for dear life.
As Crys grabbed the man’s rifle, she realised who the figure was. Bongani! He must have only been lightly injured when they shot him.
She pushed the rifle into the man’s side. Hard. It was payback time.
‘Stop!’ she shouted. ‘Put your hands on your head.’
The man continued to struggle. She jabbed the rifle even harder.
‘Stop!’
He moaned and slowly did as she’d told him.
Bongani let go of the man’s neck and tried to stand up, but groaned and collapsed.
‘Where are you hurt?’ Crys asked not taking her eyes off the other man.
He groaned and pointed to his left shoulder.
She had to get him out of sight of the house.
She jabbed the rifle into the Vietnamese man’s neck. ‘If you move, I’ll kill you,’ she told him in Vietnamese. He looked startled.
‘Understand?’
He nodded.
She tried to lift Bongani to his feet, but he was too heavy.
‘Bongani, grab my hand and I’ll pull. Try to stand. You need to get out of here.’
Keeping her eye on the man on the ground, she stuck out a hand and Bongani grasped it. Crys pulled as hard as she could as he tried to stand. Not quite enough. She had to put down the gun and pull with both hands. This time they made it, and Bongani was on his feet.
He grunted something and pointed at the house.
The Vietnamese man was running towards the front door. ‘Open the door,’ he shouted.
Quickly Crys picked up the rifle, aimed, and fired a short burst, but missed. The recoil pushed her backwards. She pulled the trigger again. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. It was out of bullets.
‘Come,’ she said, helping Bongani away from the house to safety behind the vehicles.
‘Wait there.’ She ran to where she thought she’d dropped her rifles. Her instincts were good, and she found them quickly. Then she returned to Bongani.
‘Can you walk by yourself?’
He nodded.
She handed him the .303. ‘Take this. I think there’s only one bullet left. I hope you don’t have to use it. Now walk as far as you can away from the house. Then lie down. Mabula will be here soon. Hopefully he can put an end to this quickly. Now go.’
As soon as he was out of sight, Crys paid attention to the house again. The man she’d had on the ground was nowhere to be seen – Dinh must have let him in.
Then the front door opened and the porch lights came on. She dropped into a crouch. First out of the door was Søren. One of Dinh’s men had an arm around his neck and what looked like a handgun pointed at his head. His rifle was slung over his shoulder.
They were taking hostages.
Then came Johannes. This time it was Dinh himself, holding him in the same way.
‘You try anything,’ Dinh shouted. ‘We kill your friends.’
Crys hadn’t banked on this.
Then the third man came out dragging something heavy. Crys looked carefully – it had to be Michael. A wave of relief washed over her – they wouldn’t be taking him if he was dead. The man left the body next to the vehicle and ran back inside. A few moments later, he reappeared carrying something over his shoulder.
Was it Anton? No, it wasn’t big enough for him. It had to be his stash of rhino horns.
A few moments later, she heard something being dumped into the first vehicle. It sounded hard. The man ran back inside the house again, only to reappear a few seconds later, again with something over his shoulder. He dropped the bag in the vehicle.
Two large bags. That was a lot of horns. Worth millions on the street.
The man went back a third time and repeated the process.
So much for Anton telling everyone that the horns were in a bank vault in Phalaborwa. They were in the house all along. But why?
Dinh’s two men picked Michael up and dumped him in the back with the rhino horns. She stifled a cry as she saw his slack body. Then Søren and Johannes were pushed into the back seats of the vehicle. One of the men jumped in next to them, handgun at the ready. Dinh climbed into the passenger seat and called for the third man to get in and drive. The man jumped in, started the engine, and moved off in a sharp right turn to get back on the road that took them off the farm.
In the middle of the turn, one of the back doors opened, and Søren fell out.
There were a couple of shots from the car, and Crys let off a burst, but aimed high. She didn’t want to hit Michael or Johannes by mistake.
Dinh sprayed a burst in her direction, but nothing came close, and a few seconds later the vehicle was out of sight.
‘Søren,’ she shouted. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ came the choked reply. ‘Had the wind knocked out of me.’
‘Get over here.’
A few moments later, Søren limped into view.
Crys pulled her phone from her pocket, turned it on and handed it to Søren. ‘Mabula is the last person I called. See if you can reach him. Tell him that Dinh just left here in a vehicle with the rhino horn. Johannes and Michael are hostages, and they are heavily armed. Then see if you can find Bongani. Don’t worry, he’s on our side. I’ll explain later. He headed off in that direction.’ She pointed. ‘He’s armed, so make sure you identify yourself. He was shot earlier, but I don’t think it’s too serious.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Søren didn’t look too happy.
‘See if Anton is still alive.’
Without waiting for his reply, she headed for the house, rifle at the ready, just in case.
When Crys reached the front door, she hesitated, then ran in, checking left and right.
Nobody.
She dashed into the living room and then took the stairs to the second floor. She moved quickly and quietly, her mind completely focused.
She heard no sound. Not knowing where Anton would be, she ran into the first room she came to. The light was on. That’s where he was, lying on the floor face down, oozing blood onto the floor from a nasty head wound. One hand was tucked under him; the ot
her hand was missing all of its fingers. She gasped and took a small step back.
Dinh had been determined to find the horns.
She knelt next to Anton and felt for a pulse. There was a very weak one. She ran out of the room to find a blanket and grabbed one from the bed next door. She came back and covered him with it. If he wasn’t in shock already, he soon would be.
Crys took a quick look around and saw a desk pushed aside and an open safe behind. It was large, certainly big enough to store three bags of horns.
She sped down the stairs. Søren was on the front porch. He was still on the phone.
‘Is that Mabula?’ she asked.
He nodded.
‘Tell him we need medical help urgently. Anton is still alive, but only just. All I can do is keep him warm and try to stop the bleeding.’
Søren relayed the message, then hung up.
‘He’s only a few kilometres from here. They’ve set up a roadblock for Dinh, if he goes that way.’
‘I think there’s only one way out of here, so they should be in the right place. Did you tell him they were heavily armed?’
‘I did. Twice.’
‘Okay. Let’s find Bongani and get him inside and see what we can do for him.’
Crys was sure there were no other men here now, so the two of them headed off in the direction Bongani had gone.
‘Bongani, where are you?’ she shouted.
No reply.
‘He’s probably passed out, but we should be able to see him soon. The sky is getting lighter.’ She pointed upwards.
‘Bongani, where are you?’ she called again.
This time they heard a weak response. ‘Over here…’
They followed the sound and soon found him lying on the ground, clutching his shoulder. His shirt was drenched in blood.
They slowly headed back to the house with Søren supporting Bongani. When they reached the living room, he helped Bongani onto a sofa and made him lie down. Crys fetched a glass of water and another blanket.
‘Take it easy, Bongani,’ she said. ‘A doctor is on the way.’
Finally, she went for two more glasses of water, and handed one to Søren.
Crys sat down, took a deep drink, and started shaking uncontrollably.
Chapter 37
‘Crys, I can hear automatic weapon fire,’ Søren called out. He’d gone out onto the porch.
Crys checked on Bongani and then joined him there. She also heard distant gunfire. She very much hoped it was Mabula taking down Dinh and his men.
Please, dear God, keep Michael safe. And Johannes.
As if on cue, her phone rang. It was the colonel.
‘Crys?’ he said, surprising her by using her first name. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘What’s happening? Have you got Michael?’
‘We’ve stopped them at the road block,’ Mabula continued, ‘but it’s a standoff. I don’t want to risk Malan or Davidson. Update me on what’s happening there.’
‘Anton Malan’s in trouble. I don’t think he’ll last long without medical attention. Bongani Chikosi has also been shot, but is not as bad. He has a bullet in his shoulder. I think he’s lost a lot of blood. Søren and I are okay.’
‘Are you certain that there’s no threat there? That they didn’t leave anyone behind?’
‘Just the man I shot, but he’s probably dead by now. I’m sure there’s no one else.’
Mabula was silent for a moment. ‘You shot someone? How did you do that? No, never mind, I’ll find out later. There’s a civilian medivac helicopter nearly there. But I can’t let them land if there’s any danger.’
‘It’s fine. No danger. We’ve everything under control.’
‘Okay. I hope you’re right. I’ll call you back when they get there.’
Crys and Søren stood on the porch and watched the dawn spread over the sky. They didn’t say a word to each other. What was there to say?
About ten minutes later, they heard a chopper approaching. At the same moment, Crys’s phone rang.
It was Mabula again. ‘Crys. All clear?’
‘Yes. And there’s a helicopter pad here. It’s on the north side of the house.’
‘I’ll let them know.’
When she heard the chopper coming in to land, Crys realised with a shock that it’d been less than a month since she had flown in one from there into the Kruger Park.
So much had happened since then.
The chopper touched down, and two men jumped out and ran towards the house, looking from side to side. Mabula had clearly warned them to be careful.
Just as well they weren’t there an hour ago. There’d be more casualties.
‘Where’s the injured man?’ one called as they approached.
‘There are two. In the house. You’ll need a stretcher for one. I think the other can walk, if you help him.’
They followed her into the house, and they went straight upstairs to Anton. The men gasped when they saw him.
‘What happened here? Who did this to him?’
‘The men Colonel Mabula is fighting right now. Is he still alive?’
‘He is right now. But we need to check him.’
They applied a soft tourniquet above the wrist of his mutilated hand. Then checked his neck and other limbs. ‘He’s badly bruised, and he’s lost some teeth, but I think we can move him safely,’ one paramedic said. ‘But I don’t know about internal injuries. With bruising like that, it could be bad.’
The other nodded. ‘Let’s get him out of here. He needs to be in hospital.’
They started strapping him onto a stretcher.
‘Can you take all four of us?’ Crys asked.
He shook his head. ‘Not more than two. You’ll have to wait for the police.’
She followed them as they carefully manoeuvred the stretcher down the stairs, then went to look for Bongani. He wasn’t in the living room, where she’d left him.
Now what?
‘He’s in the kitchen,’ Søren said. ‘He refuses to go with them.’
She found Bongani slumped on the kitchen chair. They’d tried to bandage his shoulder with a torn-up sheet, but now it was dripping blood again.
‘I can’t go with them, Crys,’ he said. ‘They’ll say I helped the attackers. And I did. I thought they were just here for the horn. That Mr Malan would give it to them, and then they’d go. But they’re not the ones who work with my people … the poachers…’ He gasped, and his breath rasped. Maybe his injury was worse than she’d thought.
‘I couldn’t stop working for them, Crys. If I did, they’d kill my family.’
‘And if you die, your family will have nothing.’
He shook his head. ‘The head man will look after them. That’s the way it works.’
‘Bongani, you saved my life and everyone’s here. We’ll make a plan.’
He shook his head again. ‘No, Crys. This is how it is. Will you please help me? I’ll hide in the bush until I’m stronger.’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Bongani. You won’t survive without medical attention.’
‘If that is what God wills…’ He collapsed forwards in the chair. Crys had to grab him to prevent him falling.
‘Bring another stretcher,’ she screamed. ‘Hurry.’
A few moments later the medivac men ran in. They lifted Bongani onto the stretcher and strapped him down.
‘Quick,’ she cried. ‘He’s been shot. It’s worse than I thought…’
They hurried to the helicopter and secured the stretcher next to Anton’s. They put an oxygen mask over Bongani’s face. Then they put him on a drip.
‘Will they live?’ Crys asked.
‘Not if we waste time here,’ the one paramedic snapped. ‘Let’s go,’ he said to the pilot.
A few seconds later, they were airborne. She just had to hope they would both make it.
Once the helicopter left, she called Mabula.
‘They’re on their way to the hos
pital in Giyani,’ she said. ‘What’s happening there?’ And she held her breath, her pulse racing even though she was sitting down.
‘We’ve pinned them down and disabled their vehicle, but we can’t rush them or they’ll kill Malan and Davidson. We’ve got one of our choppers on the way, and more vehicles. Once they get here, it’ll all be over. It’s light now; they won’t be able to hide in the bush. We’ll pick them off. I have to go. Just wait there.’
As though they had any choice.
She wondered how far away Dinh’s men were, and whether they might try to get back to the house. Turning to Søren, she said, ‘Mabula says he has them pinned down, but I think they might double back. We should keep a look out. Take one of the rifles and watch for anyone coming from the front gate.’
‘But I’ve never fired a gun,’ Søren said, nervously. ‘And I don’t think I could shoot anyone.’
‘If someone’s going to shoot you, make sure you shoot first.’
‘But—’
‘Just do it, dammit. I’m going upstairs. The safe is open there, and I want to take a look before the police get here. Shout if you see anything.’
Crys headed back upstairs to the room where she’d found Anton and the safe. There was no money or horns left in it, just stacks of papers and documents. She knew she shouldn’t be going through his personal stuff, but she was past caring. She was sure Anton was to blame for this mess, and now she wanted some answers.
She pulled out the folders and flipped through them. Accounts, letters, title documents. Nothing of interest. Then she found a diary. She flipped through it. It seemed mainly blank with a few appointments filled in. She tossed it back into the safe.
But why would he keep a diary in a safe? It was inconvenient. She wondered…
Quickly she retrieved it and started looking through it more carefully. Most days were blank, but she found a couple of entries that just said ‘D’Oliviera’. Below them were two numbers. One was around twenty, the other much higher – over a million. Crys started to understand. She smoothed her hair as she thought about weight in kilograms and money in South African rands. Anton was getting nothing like the street price of rhino horn, but it was a lot of money all the same.
Dead of Night Page 31
