by Tony Park
Liesl didn’t believe him, but she did know she needed to stay alive as long as possible if she was going to have any chance of escaping. She decided she would die trying to get out of this hellhole. Mutale told Hess to ease her down as he used leather straps with buckles to secure first her left and then her right wrists to the security bars. Liesl quietly tested the bonds.
Hess closed the heavy door to the container then turned on an overhead light, forcing Liesl to blink. ‘I used to be a professional hunter. Taxidermy was my hobby.’ He set the scalpel down on the side trolley and pulled a pair of rubber gloves from a packet. He snapped them on, then took up the surgical blade again. He moved to her face and Liesl turned away. ‘Hold her, Aston, please.’
Aston grabbed her hair and rotated her head so she was looking up into Hess’s cold blue eyes. The light haloed him like an angel of death. Hess sliced through the cord that held her gag in place, and then removed the saliva-soaked handkerchief and tossed it on the floor. She coughed. He laid the flat of the scalpel blade on her forehead, stilling her.
‘Please . . .’ she croaked.
‘Shush. There will be time for begging later. First, let me tell you what’s going to happen to you.’ Hess turned the blade so that the blunt rear edge rested between her eyes. ‘You’re going to tell me who knows of my identity, and what you know of my time here in Rwanda.’
‘Fokoff.’
‘Ah, it’s been too long since I heard Afrikaans. I think I need to go back down south.’ Hess dragged the point of the scalpel on to Liesl’s lips and let it rest there. ‘But quiet for now. As I said, you’re going to tell me what I want to know, and then I’m going to hurt you, a little, just to make sure you’re not lying. If I believe you, I’m going to let you go, as long as you promise not to report me to the police, OK?’
He lifted the scalpel. Liesl licked her lips. ‘I . . . I don’t believe you. You’re not going to let me go.’
He smiled down at her. ‘Smart girl. No, I’m not going to let you go. You’re going to die here, Liesl. But I am going to give you a choice in how that happens. My Zambian friend here is a traditional healer, of the very bad kind; a man who believes his human muti needs to be harvested from a living, screaming victim. I’m curious to see how that might happen, but I’m not a monster. If you tell me what I want to know, then I’m prepared to deny Aston his pleasure by killing you quickly. The choice is yours.’
Liesl screwed her eyes shut. She felt the point of the scalpel trailing down over her chin and along her neck. She felt the metal lifted from her sternum, between her breasts, as he began slicing open her T-shirt. A tear squeezed from her eyes.
‘I’ll tell you everything,’ she said in a whisper.
‘I always knew you would.’
29
Theron was talking on his car’s hands-free phone, trying to organise a police team to meet them at Letsitele, when Richard got through to Lourens van der Merwe at the Kruger National Park. It seemed like months rather than days since he’d been shot at in his home, fearing it was Lourens, the jealous husband, come to get him.
‘Doc, howzit?’ Lourens said, as though he didn’t really care for the answer.
Rapidly, and hopefully coherently, Richard explained that armed poachers were about to break into a farm at Letsitele, near Phalaborwa, kill the inhabitants and capture twelve wild dogs. ‘Lourens, are you there?’ Richard asked, hearing no reply from the man.
‘I’m thinking. This farm is out of our jurisdiction, technically, but those dogs probably came from the Kruger Park originally, yes?’
Richard had no idea where the dogs were from. ‘Undoubtedly. Can you help us, Lourens? I’m with a Captain Fanie Theron of the endangered species unit. He’s trying to get the local cops to respond but I’m worried they won’t make it, and they’ll be outgunned.’
‘Outgunned, you say? You expecting a big fight?’
‘Lourens, I’m not exaggerating when I say the guys we’re dealing with are killers.’ Richard wondered whether he’d just talked Lourens out of risking the lives of himself and his men.
‘In that case, we’re in. Are you driving now? Where are you?’
‘Just passing Benoni, heading east.’
‘Benoni? Why are you heading east? You’d be quicker taking the N1 north and turning off at Polokwane.’
‘I know,’ Richard said, ‘but there’s been a major accident between a taxi and a truck on the N1 northbound and it’s closed.’
‘Shit, man. You’ll be over five hours to Letsitele if you take the N4. I’ll meet you at the Alzu Services – halfway to Kruger. Shouldn’t take you more than two hours. You know the place?’
‘Yes. See you there.’ Richard had stopped off at the motorway service station a few times and knew where it was. Richard told Theron the new plan, and the fact that the policeman didn’t object told him he’d had little luck marshalling the local police.
‘There was a double murder in a shebeen on the outskirts of Phalaborwa. Somebody opened up with a nine mil and three people were wounded as well. Half the local police service is there and the other half is out. They’re going to send a car to check on the farm when they can.’
Richard nodded. It felt good to be doing something. To a large extent, Liesl, Carmel and her French friend were on their own, and they’d made their choice to go after Hess. Liesl’s parents, however, were bystanders in all of this, and their lives were threatened by association with the rest of them. ‘Do you have a spare gun?’
Theron glanced at him. ‘Do you think you’re going to go in all guns blazing? You’re a doctor, man. You’re probably better off staying with the girl. Pardon me, miss,’ he said, looking back at Collette. She waved away his concern.
‘I was an officer in the parachute regiment for five years. I know how to handle firearms.’
Theron shook his head. ‘Eish. Check the glove compartment.’
Richard opened the glove box and under the vehicle’s papers he found a snub-nosed .38 revolver. It was underpowered by South African standards, but it was better than nothing. He checked the cylinder and saw six rounds were loaded.
‘There’s a speed loader in there as well, with another six shots. You’d better take it.’
Richard felt as though he was going to war, which was ironic as the other conflicts he’d gone into, in Rwanda and later Kosovo, had been pretty much over by the time he’d arrived. He’d been in the business of cleaning up the bloody pieces of other people’s battles, always arriving too late. If they were lucky, they might just get to Letsitele before the killing began, for a change.
Traffic mostly yielded to Theron’s high-speed run, but when he came up behind a dozy driver who hadn’t noticed his flashing light he had to sound his horn. Richard braced himself for impact with a futile hand on the dashboard, then breathed a sigh of relief as the startled driver pulled over to the left into the yellow lane.
The phone rang and the captain answered it on speaker phone. ‘Captain Theron.’
‘Ja, Captain, howzit,’ said a slow-talking African voice.
‘Fine. What have you got for me, hey?’
‘Captain, it’s Warrant Officer Manzini here from Phalaborwa. We managed to get to the Nels’ place earlier than expected. I’m at their farmhouse now, and they seem fine. Can we go back to the station or must we wait here for you, sir?’
Theron looked at Richard, who shook his head. ‘Shit. Liesl’s SMS said her folks were staying with friends. If they’re at home, then that means Liesl definitely didn’t send that message at all. It was worrying enough with her saying how much she loved me – she wouldn’t have even joked about that. This confirms what we feared. The Nels are at home and they don’t know what’s about to hit them.’ Liesl’s phone was obviously in someone else’s hands and he feared for her safety. He had tried calling Carmel, but his call could not be connected. Hopefully they could save Liesl’s parents, but what of her?
‘They have to leave the farm,’ Theron said.
>
Richard knew that was the sensible thing, but he shook his head. ‘Old man Nel’s a stubborn guy. He won’t leave his staff in danger, and he won’t want whoever’s after them to know that their plan’s been compromised. I think he wants a showdown, even if it places his life and his wife’s life in jeopardy.’
‘Afrikaners,’ Theron sighed. ‘Manzini?’
‘Here, sir.’
‘Stay there with the Nels, in the house with them. Make sure the old man’s armed and call for back-up as well. You’re going to get hit with a farm invasion just now.’
‘Serious?’
‘Ja, my friend. Very serious.’
*
Jan Venter guided the helicopter in by radio, reeling off landmarks for the pilot to spot in the dark. When he heard the chopper approaching the big kopje he switched on his high-powered torch and started flashing it.
‘Ja, OK, I see your light, over,’ the pilot said.
‘There’s a clearing in front of me. You’re safe to put down, over,’ Jan replied.
The helicopter loomed out of the darkness, blotting out the stars. The only illumination on the aircraft was the winking red light above the engine housing. Jan played his beam on the ground to assist the pilot. As soon as the skids touched the ground the veterinarian jumped out, a backpack over his shoulder and a dart gun in his right hand. Immediately, the pilot took off again, powering up into the night.
‘Why the rush?’ the vet asked when the whine of the engine had receded.
‘Shit’s happening somewhere else. And you’re late. I’ll be glad when it’s done, so I can get off this hill.’
The vet wrinkled his nose. ‘Ja man, you’re foofy. You’ve been up here too long without a bath.’
‘Keep the noise down,’ Jan said. He led off, holding his R5 assault rifle at the ready. He’d fitted an Mkonto silencer to the end of the barrel, in preparation for the assault that was to take place on the farm, once they had bagged the wild dogs.
‘Don’t move!’
Jan froze and closed one eye as the beam of a powerful torch picked out the vet, who immediately dropped his dart gun and raised his hands. Jan raised the R5 to his shoulder, took aim at the light and fired. The silencer reduced the noise of the round to a dull bang. The light fell to the ground.
Jan ran forward at a crouch, his weapon still up in the ready position. A white man in a khaki uniform coughed and writhed in the dirt. ‘Sorry, China,’ Jan said. He pointed the barrel of the R5 between the man’s eyes and fired again.
‘Jesus Christ, you killed him!’
Jan turned to see the vet standing over him, empty-handed. ‘Go get your fokken weapon. What did you think we’d be doing here?’
‘Darting some painted dogs and putting them on the helicopter. Bloody hell. Aston never said anything about cold-blooded murder. I’m out of here.’
Jan turned and pointed his rifle at the man. ‘I’ve got orders to leave no witnesses tonight. If you want to go, then technically you’re no longer one of us. You’re a witness.’
The vet looked down at the dead ranger. He coughed, and then started to retch. He vomited in the dirt beside the body.
Jan walked off and retrieved the Dan Inject dart gun. When he returned the vet was wiping drool from his mouth. He held out the gun. ‘Here, take it.’ The vet just stared at him.
‘My fok, man. Take the bloody gun before I kill you.’ The vet slowly reached for it.
‘Come on, let’s go.’ He grabbed the vet by the arm and dragged him. ‘We need to get to the enclosure. This oke probably wasn’t alone, and if he heard the helo then others would have as well.’
They moved at a jog through the mopane forest that blanketed this part of the farm, soft butterfly-shaped leaves brushing their faces. Jan had reconnoitred the area and knew his way cross-country to the pen where the dogs were kept. They passed Tokkie Nel’s sable antelope breeding enclosure on the left, and Jan knew there were white rhino about five hundred metres off to the right. The rhino on this part of the farm were watched over twenty-four hours a day, but from what Jan had seen there were no permanent guards on the dogs. Why would there be? Unlike the rhinos, the dogs’ value was their rarity, not their price as a commodity. Technically, the Nels didn’t even own them. If it all went well this evening, and the killing was done quickly and cleanly, Jan thought he might see if he could convince the vet and the helicopter pilot to wait while he shot a couple of rhino – and their guards if need be. It would give them all a healthy bonus.
‘Up ahead,’ he said to the vet. He heard high-pitched yapping as the dogs, sensing their approach, started calling.
They reached the gate and the alpha male, who wore a reflective orange collar, climbed onto a low termite mound to get a look at them. Jan thought it ironic that the orange collar with the silver reflective strips was so visible. Out in the wider world it was meant to allow the dog to be seen by motorists from a long way off, but in here it provided them with a perfect aiming mark. Jan felt for the dogs a little. He loved his country’s wildlife and was more troubled at the prospect of killing a rhino, later in the night, than he had been killing the ranger. But this was business, and it was just a shame that animals sometimes had to die. He consoled himself with the knowledge that these dogs would be far better protected and cared for in some rich sheik’s private zoo in Dubai than they would be if they were let loose to run through the surrounding farmlands.
The vet was silent, but he was on his knees preparing the tranquillising darts. He laid out a towel and on it was a fishing tackle box with his needles, syringes and drugs, and strips of cloth he’d cut to use as blindfolds for the tranquillised animals. Jan kept watch for other rangers or security guards and periodically checked his watch. ‘You finished yet, man?’
The vet looked up at him and nodded. Jan hoped the man didn’t go to water. Sure as nuts he’d put a bullet in the vet if it even looked like he wanted to make a run for it, or if he slowed him down in any way. ‘OK, get on with it.’
The vet stood and slid the first of the darts into the stock of the dart rifle, then closed the cap on it. He checked the pressure gauge, raised the rifle, took aim and fired at the alpha male. It was an easy shot as the curious animal was standing in plain view. When the dart hit the dog he yelped and jumped, then ran in circles. He reached back with his teeth, trying to rip the dart from his rump. Jan heard the shrieks and yaps of the rest of the pack as they trotted up in response to the male’s calls.
‘Open the gate,’ the vet said.
‘Aren’t you going to dart them all first?’ The other dogs were clustering around their fallen leader.
‘Don’t tell me you’re scared? There’s never been a recorded incident of a wild dog attacking a human.’
Jan licked his lips, wondering if the vet was telling the truth, or perhaps setting him up to be mauled, so he could make his escape.
‘Do you want to take the risk of me hitting them all from here? They’ll lose interest in the male soon, once he doesn’t wake.’
Jan brought the rifle back to his shoulder, aimed at the padlock on the chain securing the gate and fired. The silencer muffled the noise of the shot to that of a loud clap. The dogs started at the noise, but were soon back to sniffing and scratching around the male. The vet had already reloaded and he walked in until he was no more than ten metres from the downed dog, and shot the alpha female, the true leader of the pack, who was also collared. The pups and older dogs scattered, but within seconds were back, prancing and sniffing in confusion. The vet unrolled the towel, into which he’d bundled the remaining darts, and methodically tranquillised each of the dogs. Such was their devotion to their fallen pack members that right to the last dog they held their ground.
‘All right, call in the helicopter. Let’s get out of here,’ said the vet.
‘Not yet. You stay with the dogs. I have some other business to attend to. I’ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.’
‘But what if someone comes?’ th
e vet protested.
Jan shrugged. ‘Tell them you’re clipping their nails. But if you run, know that we’ll find you and kill you.’
*
Theron pulled into the Alzu service station and pointed through the windscreen to the open grazing land behind the restaurant complex. ‘There’s your helicopter.’
Richard got out of the car and saw Lourens van der Merwe and the national parks helicopter pilot, Andre, standing beside the aircraft, smoking cigarettes. Richard waved and Lourens lifted a hand and nodded, then continued smoking.
‘He doesn’t exactly seem overjoyed to see you,’ Theron said.
‘We have some history.’
Theron raised an eyebrow.
‘Let’s go,’ Richard said to Collette.
They made their way down to an electrified fence where a man in a two-tone farmer’s shirt introduced himself as the resident gamekeeper.
‘Game?’ Collette asked.
‘Yes,’ Richard said. ‘They’ve got rhino and buffalo here, and some ostriches and antelope. Tourists stopping here to refuel can look out the windows of the service station area and see their first rhino, even before they get to the park.’
‘They’re over there,’ said the man, pointing for Collette’s benefit.
‘Crazy country,’ she said.
Andre had climbed into the cockpit and now had the engine whining and the rotors starting to turn. Richard, Theron and Collette made their way quickly to the helicopter. After hasty introductions, Lourens took a seat next to the pilot, and Theron, Collette and Richard got in the back. An African field ranger was snoozing in the rear compartment, an FN rifle laid across his knees. He opened his eyes as they climbed in. ‘Ah, Doc. Good to see you again.’
Richard shook hands with the ranger, whose name was Musa, and introduced him to Theron and Collette.
‘The doctor, he saved my friend. He is very brave under fire,’ Musa yelled to Collette over the escalating noise of the helicopter’s engine. Soon they were airborne, the headlights of the N4 disappearing as they cut across darkened farmland and headed northeast towards Phalaborwa and Letsitele.
