by M A Moore
“Do you remember Ed Brown?” she asked.
“Of course. He and Reynolds came to our rescue in that cave.”
“He is my best link to the organization right now. And I’m not even sure where his ultimate loyalties lie. I do believe he doesn’t want war in Africa.”
“That puts him in one of two camps.”
“His Indian name is Girish Kakkar. His father came to Africa as an indentured servant during the colonial era. If any descendants are still around, we need to talk to them. Maybe they can give us direction.”
“It’s a place to start. I’ll get my people in SAI to trace his name and see if there are family connections here. It’ll take a day or two. Where will find you?”
“I’ll stay right here until I hear from you.”
Chapter 40
Mike found her the next day. He arrived at the lodge with an SUV and a packed bag. The Kakkar extended family had a mango plantation south of Kruger, and it would take a few hours to get there. It poured rain for most of the journey, but as they approached the enclave the clouds parted for a glimpse of sunshine.
Several white-washed stucco buildings with orange roof tiles dotted the hillside. They clustered around an Indian temple of worship with a gold finial on top. Flowers were blooming everywhere. Mike pulled the jeep off the road, and they waited. They could see women and children peeking out at them through the lace curtains of the houses. After a few minutes a stately gray-haired man of Indian descent came down the slope and approached them.
“Are you lost? Do you need assistance?” he asked politely.
“Namaste,” Amy said bowing her head and folding her hands in the traditional greeting. “We would like to speak to the family of Girish Kakkar.”
“You are Amy Mohr?”
“Yes, and he is Mike Stone.”
“My son told me to expect a visit from you.” He smiled innocuously. “Please follow me.” He turned and proceeded back up the gravel path to the residences.
Mike’s raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Amy. They exited their vehicle and let the old gentleman lead them to a garden behind the largest house. He gestured to the chairs under the covered patio.
"Be seated. My wife will bring us tea.”
An older Indian woman dressed in a simple tunic, loose trousers with sandals on her feet brought out a tray with a teapot and three cups. After she served each of them, she bowed and went back inside. The old gentleman took a sip of his tea and put down his cup.
“I am Ashok Kakkar. My son Girish wishes me to tell you what you need to know.”
Mike and Amy drank their tea and waited patiently.
“A political movement is afoot in Durban. A young man shows leadership potential as the future Asian Mandela. He is being groomed, but needs time to mature. It may be another twenty years before he is ready on the political front. Full scale hostilities in southern Africa must not occur until his rise to national prominence.”
“Does he have a name?” Mike asked.
The old gentlemen looked at him with a surreal calm. “He does, but the fear is assassination. I will not give you his name, and I ask you not to go searching for his identity. If you live long enough to see the political agenda succeed, you will know it then. Be patient.”
He returned his attention to Amy.
“The next twenty years will be crucial. To maintain the hope, the economic situation here in Africa must change. The common people of all colors need hope. The poor must pull themselves out of poverty. Monetary handouts are degrading and impractical in the long term. Africa has the mineral resources that could, with good management, finance the whole process towards self-sufficiency. “
The old man picked up his teacup and took another sip of the fragrant brew.
“In the mean time we pray that eco-tourism will thrive. Efforts must continue to keep the animals alive and healthy. The human population is crowding out the wildlife. There is too little land for so many. Too many elephants in the national parks destroy the ecosystem. Environmentalists dig deep wells and drain the aquifers to supply water to the beasts during the dry season, but these sources are not inexhaustible. Moving herds to less inhabited areas is a solution not easily attained.
“Most important, we need to keep the supply of guns out of the hands of those who have no use for an Africa at peace.”
Finally Amy was able to tear her eyes away from the old man’s face. She looked hard at Mike. The intensity of his words bored into them both. Ashok Kakkar continued.
“We need men like Nathan Reynolds to protect the animals as a natural resource, but preventing their wanton destruction is not enough. They need management so they do not destroy the land and make it unusable for either man or beast.”
Mike nodded his head in agreement. “Africa is falling apart in bits and pieces. Egypt is in chaos. Somalia, Sudan, South Sudan – they are all in turmoil. When the rains fail, people die of starvation. Drought has killed thousands in Ethiopia and Somalia -even Kenya. The Sahara is growing, and disease is ravaging West Africa -Ebola, AIDS, malaria, even measles. South Africa is a small bit of stability and even that is on knife’s edge.” He stopped to take a breath.
“So how do we stop the guns?” Amy asked not expecting an actionable answer. The old man looked at them both sympathetically.
“The situation is dire. However, it is not without hope,” Ashok Kakkar said with conviction. “After all, even the Israelis have made the desert bloom. We Africans of Indian descent have put our hopes in this land.”
“But how do we stop the guns?” Amy asked again.
The old man sighed. “There are those on the Indian subcontinent who would destroy Africa and rebuild it in their own vision. Their numbers are small, but they have influence and financial resources. But we are not without hope. My son Girish and those allied with our common cause also have resources, and we will fight for our homeland -Africa.
“So are you telling us to stay out of it?” Mike asked. “You aren’t the only Africans that have a stake in keeping the peace here.”
“The situation must be dealt with in India, not here. It is being addressed.” He looked at Amy appreciating her dilemma. “Stephen was a good man, and is sorely missed, but he was Hindu by choice, not by birth. He alerted us to the problem. We will take it from here.”
“You know about the schism?” Amy inquired.
“Most certainly.” The old man stated plainly. “Stephen did not know whom to trust. He knew guns from India were smuggled into Africa. Now that the appropriate parties are also aware, we will take care of the situation.”
Ashok Kakkar stood up. Their interview was at an end. Mike and Amy had no choice but to leave. They made their way back to the jeep in a dejected mood.
Mike stared out of the windshield holding on to the steering wheel with both hands. "The old man told us to mind our own business and stay out of it."
"That's how I heard it," Amy replied sullenly.
As Mike backed the jeep out to the road a young boy ran up and handed Amy a bag of ripe mangoes. He turned and ran away before she could thank him.
Driving down the road toward Durban, Mike posed the question that he needed answered.
“Will they be able to take care of the situation?”
“Maybe,” stated Amy with not even a trace of certainty. “But even if they can we will never know who was supplying the weapons from India. The organization is tight knit. Even Stephen who gave his life to it was not fully accepted by them. You heard him. Stephen was Hindu by choice, not by birth. Blood runs much thicker than water here.”
“It does in most cultures,” Mike added. “We’ve found credible intelligence from another source.”
Amy looked over at him calmly. ”Is South African Intelligence the ‘we’ here?”
Mike nodded. “We have leads in Durban. Ones connected to the harbor and the container ships that use it. How long are you going to be in South Africa this time?”
“As long as
I need to be,” she answered. “What do you know?”
“The Indians of Durban are not the only ones who have a commitment to peace on this continent. This place is my home too,” Mike replied. “Are you up for bit of reconnoitering?”
“Yes,” Amy replied simply, smiling grimly to herself and looking forward to a bit of spying.
Mike continued driving, looking straight ahead. “Amy, I know you won’t ask, so I’m just going to tell you,” he began ominously.
Amy scanned Mike’s face looking for clues.
“Francoise and her husband are happily living in Lyon. Evie is getting bigger every day and seems very content. I go up and see her whenever I can. It’s working out.”
Amy couldn’t reply for several seconds. Her emotions were all jumbled. Finally she asked, “And you’re happy with this?”
“I am,” Mike stated resolutely. He pulled the vehicle off the side of the road so that he could talk to her face to face.
“When I went up to Lyon to confront her -after we’d calmed down enough to actually talk- I offered to marry her. She turned me down. Doing it just for the sake of Evie seemed a poor choice for everyone involved. She’d known Bernard since she was a kid growing up in France. And well, they just reconnected after she moved back there. I’m going to be part of Evie’s life, not a full-time dad. More like an uncle who travels a lot and visits when he’s in town. Francoise was right about South Africa being too dangerous to bring up our daughter.”
Amy sat motionless next to Mike struggling to take it all in.
“You played no role in our decision, Amy. You are not the reason Francoise and I decided what we did.”
Amy nodded her head, but said nothing. Mike put both hands back on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. "I'm getting hungry. Are those mangoes fit to eat?"
She reached in the bag and pulled out a ripe piece of fruit and an envelope. Handing the mango over to Mike, she tore open the letter and turned to Mike with a gleam in her eyes.
"It's in Stephen's handwriting, and there's a map."
Mike was peeling the mango with his teeth. "A map of what?"
"I have no idea. But the writing looks like Sanskrit to me. “Amy took out her knife and removed the peel from another of the golden fruits.
“We made good partners in Zimbabwe. Are you willing to be my back up, at least for a while?” Amy asked.
Mike wiped mango juice from his chin before answering. “SAI has a lead on gun runners in Durban. I'm obligated to follow up with them first. Then I'll be free to leave and do whatever you need. Want to join me?”
“Let’s find ourselves some smugglers,” she replied confident that they would.
Chapter 41
David Como leaned against a convenient lamppost that no longer had a working bulb and smoked a cigarette. He watched over the container ship INS Shakti and kept track of the comings and goings. He had been there since late afternoon waiting for the bosses to show up. Surveillance was generally dull work interspersed with staccato bursts of insanity once the action began. It would be dark before the bigwigs came aboard. A big deal was in the final stages if the intelligence was right. SAI wanted to catch them in the act and bust this link in the munitions trade. Como was confident that they would nail them this time.
The drizzle dampened everything – the dock, the men and their spirits. The rain made visibility poor, the lack of moonlight gave his people better cover, and zero hour was fast approaching. Como crushed the cigarette butt under his heel and signaled his men to board the ship.
Others were stationed around the port area to prevent anyone from escaping. Mike, dressed in black with his face coal-blackened carried an automatic weapon. Como had forbidden Amy from coming anywhere near the operation. Much to Mike’s surprise and relief she didn’t argue.
Neither did she consider not being there for one instant. She was already aboard. She had disguised herself as a member of the crew carrying a sack of supplies and walked past Como and up the boarding ramp without him taking a second look. Once on deck she removed the robe and turban to reveal the black outfit that would render her invisible to most eyes. She wadded up the surplus clothing and dumped it over the side.
The containers on the ship formed a maze on deck. Amy climbed atop a grouping that gave her a good vantage point. She lay flat to make her less visible in the shadows. She aimed to avoid the action if at all possible. She was there to protect Mike only if needed –no more. He'd be furious if he found out, but with any luck he would never know.
Como’s men got aboard. Then the trouble began. A lookout raised the alarm and shooting commenced. Chaos reigned on deck. Automatic gun fire riddled the air. Mike took cover behind a crate. Amy stayed above working her way to him –a dark guardian angel.
Mike used the butt of his weapon to disable an adversary with a knife. He wrestled the man overboard. Out of nowhere a masked assailant sidled up behind him. Before she could shout a warning the mystery man rapped Mike in the head with the butt of his gun leaving him unconscious on the deck.
With adrenaline coursing through her Amy dropped down on Mike’s assailant fighting like a lioness defending her cub. The man wasn’t much bigger than she, but he was stronger. In the struggle Amy pulled off his hood and stared into the face of Girish Kakkar. He pointed his gun straight at her heart.
“So whose side are you on?” Amy spat out the words with vehemence she reserved for the lowest of snakes.
“Africa’s, you foolish woman.”
The deck battle came to a close. It had been short, but violent.
A voice from below yelled up to him. Kakkar answered in English. “These two are dead. It’s time to leave.”
Kakkar tossed his gun overboard and jumped over the rail into the water. Amy crawled over to the edge and saw the small boat that picked him up speed out of the harbor. Como’s men were taking inventory and shouting.
Amy crept over to Mike. There was lots of blood from a knife wound, but it wasn't deep. He was still breathing. He would have a nasty headache when he woke up. Amy turned on her back and willed her heart to slow down. She considered staying until SAI troops found them, but changed her mind. Her presence would raise too many questions. She climbed up to her perch and remained until rescuers discovered Mike. They carried him off ship to a waiting ambulance. Amy surveyed the damage from above. A lot of human wreckage and blood stained the deck.
Amy followed Kakkar’s exit strategy. She was an excellent swimmer, and she hoped that no sharks lingered to feed on her. Despite her outrage she believed Ed Brown when he said he was on Africa’s side. But as far as she was concerned, she was done with him and his organization.
Epilogue
SAI insisted the raid was a success. They found arms and explosives in several containers and a surprised group of haughty Indian businessmen negotiating a deal with the captain. The ship registry was from Singapore, but the manifest had at least some of the cargo originating in China, the Philippines, and North Korea. It was near impossible to unravel what came from where. And there was no mention of India.
Amy was not seriously injured although she suffered bruises from her attack on Ed Brown. She still believed him when he avowed his loyalty to Africa. She told no one, not even Mike that Ed Brown had been on board. She even neglected to tell him her part in the fiasco. Mike’s recovery was slow –too slow. She avoided arguments until he was stronger.
It had taken him two days to regain consciousness. He was well on the way to recovery when Amy came to call- her bruises mostly faded. She wore a sapphire blue sundress to match her eyes and carried a large purple backpack over her shoulder. She set her bag next to his bed and tossed a bouquet of orange flowers on a side table. She meant to brighten the drabness of his room.
“Feeling better today?” she asked with her most beguiling smile.
“Getting there,” he replied sullenly.
“They’re talking about keeping you here for a couple more weeks at least,” she s
aid sitting on the edge of the mattress with her legs tucked beneath her.
Mike furled his brow and pursed his lips. He was still weak, but he was bored -a good sign.
She looked at him askance and said, “Why don’t I break you out of this joint and take you away to some exotic location.”
Mike’s opened his eyes wide then narrowed them to slits.
“We have a map to follow.” Amy whispered with a gleam in her eye.
“When do we leave?” Mike asked -the hint of a smile on his lips for the first time in a week.
“Clothes and your passport are in my bag here. We’ll buy necessities along the way. I’ll guard the door while you put on less conspicuous attire. Wheelchair is in the hallway. Taxi is waiting out front.”
“Don’t want a wheelchair,” Mike insisted with a scowl on his face that would brook no opposition. Amy grinned as she stood and shook out her skirt that had gathered above her knees.
"Different scenery is what we both need." she mused aloud. It took him ten minutes to change.
They left the flowers behind.
Follow the further adventures of Amy and Mike as they pursue the mystery of the Sanskrit map and the exotic land of India in The Way to Varanasi.
