The hose was undamaged, safe in its niche.
The grating was immovably in place.
He could hear a few concerned shouts coming from below. Well, there was nothing they could do now. The underground chamber, together with their fate, was sealed.
Steyn hurried up the passage as he heard the zama zamas’ screams begin. He had expected that he would be pleased and relieved that this part of the job was done, and he would never have to come back here again.
But somewhere deep inside, he was screaming, too.
Chapter 20
Joey and Isobel arrived at the coordinates exactly as the car clock flashed over to 6:01.
“Is this the right place?” Isobel asked uncertainly. The headlights cut the gathering darkness, showing that they were stopped on a large, barren piece of ground between the dirt track they’d been traveling on and a sand road that Joey guessed would eventually lead to the highway some distance away.
There was nobody else there. The rain had stopped, leaving the evening cool and clear. The setting sun was buried in a mass of clouds, and the first stars were shining overhead. Joey heard crickets chirping nearby and, from somewhere in the distance, the sound of frogs.
“This is definitely correct,” Joey said. “I guess it’s a rendezvous point, for who knows what. Out of the way, and leading to nothing but an abandoned site.”
“Do you think we’re too late?” Isobel gazed at the darkening landscape surrounding them.
“What time did the records state the trucks arrived?”
“Most often at six precisely—occasionally a minute or two later. They stopped for about a quarter of an hour, and then left again.”
Joey wondered what that implied. Probably a swift transfer of goods, done in the shortest possible time frame. Although six p.m. always made him think of shift changes, of guards coming and going from their posts on site.
“The storm might have caused delays. Let’s wait a few minutes and see what happens,” he said. On this flat piece of land, they’d be able to spot an oncoming vehicle from far away. But the driver would be able to see them, too. Joey decided it would be better to find cover. He wanted to be very careful, especially since the gunman who’d followed them earlier might not have given up. The chances were slim that the man knew where the back roads led, but Joey wasn’t going to risk getting in his sights a second time.
He drove in a large circle, looking carefully at the surrounding landscape. There was little in the way of shelter, but he saw some small trees in the distance behind a ROAD CLOSED sign.
“Shall we park behind those bushes?” Isobel was obviously thinking the same way he was.
“If we can get there.”
Driving closer, he saw there was a gap next to the sign. In fact, it looked as if somebody had driven through it very recently. There were fresh tire tracks in the muddy ground. Isobel saw them, too, and tensed.
“You think someone’s there?”
“I can see two sets of tracks. More likely a car came and went.” All the same, he put a hand on his holstered pistol, checking that he’d be able to draw it quickly if he needed to.
“Is there anything down this road?”
“It leads to a closed mine shaft, part of the Egoli East mine. It’s one of the places I worked with, although we accessed the site from the main entrance on the other side of the mine, where the roads are better.” Carefully, Joey drove round the sign before stopping.
“Why was it closed?”
“It became too dangerous to mine from the current access points. The rock above the reef is weak and riddled with fault lines. There were three tunnel collapses, each resulting in miners being trapped underground for days. They were lucky there were no fatalities. So they decided to close it until a safer tunnel could be constructed.”
“Do you think it’s being mined illegally?”
“I do. Unfortunately a lot of people know how rich it is, so it’s an obvious target. When Private Johannesburg had the contract, we posted two guards on duty here at all times. They patrolled the whole area, guarding the main and side entrances, which were both sealed.”
He looked at his watch, then down at the tracks again. “It’s ten past six now. We’re outside your rendezvous time frame.”
“So we missed our chance. That gunman must have known where we were heading and warned them not to come.” Isobel’s voice was heavy with disappointment.
“These tire tracks might provide another clue, or at least a chance to find new information. If they continue all the way to the mine’s entrance, that tells us something. We can check whether the access is still sealed, or if someone has tried to break in.”
He stopped the SUV behind the trees and killed the lights. Treading carefully in the near-darkness, they set off along the path.
Chapter 21
Joey and Isobel approached the mine entrance—the concrete building that marked it was no more than a black outline against the darkening sky. In the quietness of the evening, the scrunch of their feet over the gravel path sounded very loud. Joey’s instincts were prickling. “I think we’re headed for trouble,” he told Isobel.
“I’m worried,” she said softly.
He wanted to take her hand, or to put his arm around her; to offer her physical comfort and security. But that wouldn’t be right, he decided. Better to support her with words alone.
“We’re only going to look,” he said, glancing down at a sandy channel where he could see the faint indentations of footprints. “If we see anything wrong, we call the police.”
“I agree we should do that, but that’s not why I’m worried. I think…well, it’s a big coincidence that my coordinates brought us here. Why do the truck stops all occur so close to this supposedly closed mine? What if Brogan’s involved in this illegal mining, and he’s transporting the gold?”
“It would suggest a connection. But, logically, if a transport truck was collecting large quantities of ore from the mine, it would be heavier after leaving, not lighter. And if they were processing the gold on site, then the weight difference would be negligible, since it takes tons of ore to create only a few ounces of gold. But even so, let’s not rule it out, if you suspect it. You have good instincts.” In fact, Joey realized, in the short time they’d known each other, he had developed the utmost respect for Isobel’s guts, her judgment, and her intelligence. It bothered him that her husband didn’t seem to appreciate these qualities as much as he should.
Then he stopped dead, taking Isobel by the arm. Her skin felt warm and, to his surprise, she grasped his arm in turn.
“What is it?” she breathed.
“It’s broken open.” Joey stared at the concrete building that marked the start of the tunnel. The boards that sealed its entrance had been ripped away, and the door beyond was forced wide.
The zama zamas were back.
Chapter 22
“You think the zama zamas are actually inside?” Isobel whispered, staring at the pitch-black gap leading to the tunnel. She was glad that Joey was beside her. She found he reassured her in a way that went beyond the presence of his muscular and imposing body. He was calm, capable, surprisingly sensitive to her needs, and shrewdly intelligent.
“It’s very likely they may be here,” he replied. “We may be able to hear some activity if we go in, but first, let’s call for backup.”
“Who are you going to call?”
“First, the cops. Secondly, an ambulance.”
“Ambulance?”
“Confrontations between police and zama zamas tend to end violently.”
Isobel waited, watching, while Joey made the calls.
No sign of any vehicle approaching. She was sure now that the truck driver had been warned to avoid the meeting point. If that was so, then perhaps Joey was right, and the evidence they had discovered—the tire tracks and the breached mine entrance—would explain these specially scheduled detours. That would mean her husband’s South African employees had become in
volved in illegal mining.
Her thoughts were in turmoil as she considered how they might have found out she was here. Had Samantha innocently said something to the wrong person?
But then something else caught her attention. It was a strange, faraway sound, only just audible in the quiet of the night.
At first, she thought it might be an approaching truck; it was a low, drumming noise that reminded her of tires over rough ground, only not quite the same.
She turned toward the direction of the road to try to hear it better, but when she did, it faded away.
She moved closer to the concrete entrance, and that was when she heard it again.
Curious, she stepped through the dark mouth of the gateway, and then walked a few more steps. Now the throbbing was resonating through her body, the booming sound punctuated by sharper cracks, and a low babble of what might be voices. Shivers chilled the length of her spine and she felt her neck prickle.
“Joey,” she called.
He was off his phone, and he must have instantly picked up on her fear. In a few giant strides, he was inside.
“What’s wrong?”
“Listen.”
Joey listened, then spoke again, sounding shaken. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on down below, but something is seriously wrong.”
“Why?” Her mouth felt suddenly dry.
“Those aren’t the sounds of mining. They’re drumming on the rock with tools. I think trying to call for help, but it could also cause a structural collapse. People must be trapped down there.” He stared down the pitch-black tunnel. “We have to get them out.”
Chapter 23
Shadrack Mashishi was driving to the drop-off point as fast as he could. He was behind schedule and in a panic about it, because it wasn’t good to arrive late when working for these bosses.
It was only his job to drive. That was why he had a job. Because he drove capably, and because he was prepared to do what he was told without asking questions. He knew he was lucky to have work at all with his criminal record—a six-month conviction for assault and battery after a vicious bar fight some years ago.
At first, he thought the silver BMW coming up behind him was a hijacker because of the speed with which it approached, flashing its lights as it stormed along in his lane. Then the car passed, and Shadrack was just heaving a sigh of relief when the brake lights flashed and it swerved in again.
“Shit!” Clamping his jaw tight, he slammed on the brakes, feeling the truck start to fishtail on the wet road. He prayed it wouldn’t overturn and cause him to lose the official load of coffee beans that he’d freighted from Zambia. As for the unofficial load, hidden behind an inner panel—well, he was sure the twenty men crammed in there would have a few bruises after his evasive maneuver.
He skidded to a stop behind the BMW. After a moment to collect himself, it occurred to Shadrack that this might be one of his employers. Maybe plans had changed. Either way, he needed to stay calm. A tall, thin man unfolded himself from the car and strode over, grinning at him with a lopsided smile that stretched only as far as his cheekbones, leaving his eyes stony cold.
“Shadrack?”
Definitely one of the boss men.
“Yes,” he replied, opening the door and climbing down. He focused on trying to appear willing, not letting his face show the mixture of exhaustion and fear that was seething inside him.
“This is a precautionary stop. There’s a situation to resolve at the site, so we are delaying delivery of the cargo.”
“Ah,” Shadrack said. He wondered how long the wait would be. He had his own deadlines to meet. When border officials were routinely bribed so that a search meant opening the truck’s back door and glancing inside—well, a man ended up doing favors for friends. And branching out into additional enterprises to cover expenses. There were some pills stashed in the door compartment, and a couple of underage pornographic DVDs he’d obtained to sell on. That particular market wasn’t his taste, but it sure paid well for material.
“Did you know the rear-access door of your truck is loose?” the cold-eyed man asked him, and something in his tone made Shadrack’s stomach lurch. “You could be fired for that. Get round the back, check your cargo, and close it properly.”
“Will do.” Shadrack pulled himself up straighter. Suddenly it was like this guy had planted a ramrod in his spine. He marched round to the back of the truck and stepped up to the small access door.
Loose? It didn’t look loose. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. Go through the motions, please the people who signed the paychecks.
He opened the door, looked obediently in at the closely stacked sacks, and closed it again, twisting the handle vigorously.
When he looked back at the man, a gun had materialized in his hand, its cold black eye staring directly into Shadrack’s own.
“Hey,” he shouted. “Wait!”
Shadrack wanted to run, but bright headlights filled his vision, an approaching truck was blinding him, and the hard-eyed man paused, as if waiting for the truck to pass before doing the deed.
Then darkness swallowed him.
Chapter 24
Joey and Isobel raced down the tunnel. Joey’s flashlight shone on the walls, glimmering off the shards of minerals trapped in the dark bedrock and the piles of ore stored along the tunnel’s sides.
As they ran, the noise increased, becoming a pandemonium.
The clanging of tools, the scream of metal on rock. The desperate cries of men coming from deeper underground, although there were too many voices to make out the words.
“What’s happening?”
“A rock fall, a gas leak, a flood…” Scenarios spun through Joey’s head as he sprinted to the tunnel’s end, keeping his head down to avoid the low, rough ceiling. Here was the shaft, but there was a grate over it—a massive structure that must weigh half a ton. And below the grate, somebody had run a pipe through a gap in the rock. Gas was hissing through it, coming from a large machine that was rattling nearby.
“Air!” Now he could hear some of the cries clearly. “Help us! Air!”
“They can’t get out,” Isobel said, her voice filled with horror. “They’re trapped down there. How can we lift the grate?”
Moving it with manpower alone would be impossible for two people; this was a job for ten. But Joey realized there was a more serious issue.
“What’s going through that pipe?” Leaning forward, Joey examined the machine. If the miners’ escape route had been deliberately blocked, it was likely that these fumes were toxic. Somebody was making sure these men would not get out alive.
“We’re here to help you!” he shouted down.
In answer came more desperate cries. “Air, please! Air.”
Something as basic as carbon monoxide from a simple gasoline engine would swiftly be lethal in the confined space where the zama zamas worked, and this looked like a gasoline engine to him.
“Stop shouting!” he yelled to the men below. “Save your breath—breathe slowly, stand still. I’m going to try and get you out of here.”
He thought they’d heard and understood, because gradually, the shouting and banging subsided.
First step—turn this damn thing off.
“Where the hell is the ignition switch?” he muttered.
“Here?” Isobel pointed to a steel panel. “Perhaps it’s behind this.”
“It’s been locked.” Joey’s heart sank. The panel looked to be a homemade addition, simple but effective. It had been welded onto the engine, and the switch was indeed behind it.
“If we can’t turn it off, let’s pull it up. That should buy them a little more time. At least they won’t be getting directly flooded by it.”
“Good idea.”
With his heart pounding hard, Joey pulled up the hose, working as fast as he could. The pipe felt warm to the touch, throbbing as the fumes pulsed through it. Drawing it through the narrow gap was a difficult job, and he was aware of the seconds ticki
ng inexorably by as more contaminated air gathered in the space below. Sweat trickled down his temples and he shook it away.
Finally, it was up. He grabbed the end of the hose and ran with it, back toward the entrance, dropping it as far from the grate as he could. It didn’t stretch very far, but at least now the fumes were not being channeled directly into the rocky chamber.
Of course, the downside was that the fumes were now spewing into the badly ventilated passage where Joey and Isobel needed to work.
“How much time do we have?” Isobel sounded anxious.
“A few minutes, I hope.” Joey coughed as the petrol fumes caught in his throat. In the precious time that remained, they had to figure out how to lift the heavy grate, so that they could free the zama zamas.
Joey shone the flashlight round, looking for anything that could help. A ladder lay nearby that must have been pulled up before the grate was lowered. So where had the grate been before that?
On the opposite wall was a thick steel hook that must have held it up. But now it was lowered, there was no way of lifting it again, and nothing to secure it with.
He had rope in his car, though…lots of it.
Joey was starting to feel dizzy and light-headed. His head was pounding.
“Outside,” he gasped.
The clean night air poured into his lungs, flooding him with oxygen again. Beside him, he saw Isobel breathing deeply, but her face was drawn.
“How are we going to move that grate?”
Out here in the fresh night air, his head felt suddenly clearer.
“We can use the rope and the hook. Create a pulley system.”
“Using the car!” Isobel completed his thought. “Run the rope from the grating, up through the hook, then out to the car’s tow hitch. Drive the car forward, and it will lift the grating up to the hook.”
“It could just work.”
“It has to work,” she replied.
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