The Delta

by Tony Park

  ‘No.’

  ‘Emma!’ Steele yelled across the darkening waters. ‘Emma, come back on board. I’ve got your mother here and I’m going to kill her if you don’t show yourself.’

  ‘Swim, my girl!’ Sonja yelled. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

  Steele laughed. ‘I’ve fantasised about having the pair of you,’ he said to her, then called out, ‘Count of three, Emma. Then she dies. One … two …’

  Sam switched to breaststroke so as not to disturb the waters as much as when he was swimming freestyle. The breeze that had propelled Sonja rippled the ocean’s surface, and further masked his wake as he swam. The spear gun trailed behind him from the leg rope attached to his ankle.

  He’d run after Sonja but there was nothing he could do after she stole the kiteboard at gunpoint. The African man who’d been running the beachside franchise had run off in panic as soon as the crazy white woman had taken to the water. Sam had seen the man’s flippers and spear gun lying beside the folded umbrella and deckchairs and grabbed them.

  He’d heard the gunfire and seen the muzzle flashes coming from the dhow, silhouetted against the crimson of the evening sky. At least he knew he was swimming towards the right boat, but it was a hell of a long way from shore and he wondered if he would find anyone still alive when he got there.

  ‘Go to your mother,’ Steele said as Emma eased herself over the gunwale. Her face was white with fear and her teeth were chattering as she moved to the bow of the boat, leaving a trail of salt water dripping behind her.

  ‘Mum!’ Emma dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her mother, whose face shone deathly white in the dark. There was blood everywhere. ‘Mum … I’m so sorry for everything.’ She kissed her mother’s cheek and Sonja buried her face in her daughter’s hair; her lips close to her ear.

  ‘Left pocket,’ Sonja whispered.

  Emma moved her face away from her, but caught the stern look in her mother’s eyes, so she didn’t say anything else. Emma looked back at Steele. ‘She’s bleeding to death. You’ve got to let me help her.’

  Steele shook his head. ‘I’m hurt too, Emma. Crawl over here like a good little girl and tie some of that pretty dress of yours around my thigh.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘OK,’ said Steele. He raised the AK to his shoulder and took aim at Sonja. ‘One … two …’

  ‘Stop!’ Emma crawled on her hands and knees across the deck towards him.

  ‘My,’ Steele said, ‘this is fun, isn’t it, girls?’

  ‘You bastard,’ Sonja said.

  ‘Too true, I’m afraid.’ Steele looked down at Emma, who was ripping a swathe of material from her stained, wet dress. ‘Good girl.’

  ‘What now, Martin?’ Sonja asked.

  ‘Good question. I really didn’t want something like this to happen, but you were very hard to kill, Sonja. Impossible, in fact. First the Zimbabwean CIO failed to kill you at the ambush of the presidential convoy, but I was sure they’d get you at Divundu. After that I had to think long and hard about how to have you killed by the dam security guards.’

  ‘You supplied dud RPG rounds, grenades and mortar bombs to the Caprivians. Why did you let me take real explosives to the dam?’ Sonja asked. Steele kept a close eye on Emma as she wrapped the makeshift bandage around his leg.

  ‘Two reasons. First, it was such a small quantity, in the kicker and the detonating charges, that you might have been able to tell if it was fake; and secondly, I thought that, given who you are, Sonja, you might just pull off the job and destroy the dam. That way, as it happened, I still got paid by that obnoxious fool, Bernard Trench. Quite a nice bonus. Of course, if you somehow managed to blow the dam and live I knew I’d end up facing a tricky little situation like this one.’

  ‘Is it all about the money, Martin? It’s the gambling, isn’t it?’

  He shrugged. ‘Go back to your mother, Emma. Go sit next to her.’ He shifted his attention back to Sonja as Emma crawled to her. ‘Yes and no. I do owe an awful lot of money to some very nasty Russian gentlemen in London who will kill me, slowly, if I don’t pay them. You know, I really did love you there for a while, Sonja, but despite my repeated attempts to get back into your good books you kept rejecting me. So I started looking at this little carbon copy of you, who was growing into a woman every bit as beautiful as her mother. I knew that if I could get my hands on your money, I’d have enough to clear all my debts. I’d have bugger-all left over, but I would have lovely young you to ease my financial and emotional pain.’

  Emma sidled up next to Sonja and wrapped her arm around her.

  ‘That’s why you wanted the paternity test, isn’t it,’ said Sonja. ‘You sick bastard.’

  ‘Sick? Not at all. That was precisely the point of the test.’

  Emma looked at him, and then her mother. ‘What paternity test?’

  Steele gave an exaggerated frown. ‘Sorry Emma, your mum and I forgot to tell you. I’m not sure if you remember your mother swabbing your mouth once when you had braces, but we were conducting a little experiment on you. I’d always wondered if I was your father, but it turned out your dad was a low-life IRA terrorist who helped blow up a bus full of schoolkids. Bet you’re relieved about that, eh?’

  ‘What?’ Emma looked at them both in confusion.

  ‘Yes, so once I knew you weren’t my little bastard, Emma, I thought it would be OK to get to know you better. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’d be capable of incest.’ Steele gave a shudder. ‘Yuck. Not me at all.’

  ‘You’ll have to kill us both, now,’ Emma said. ‘And you’re right. I don’t care who my father was, as long as it’s not you.’

  ‘Emma,’ Sonja said. ‘Don’t goad him.’

  ‘Yes, Emma,’ Steele nodded. ‘Listen to Mum. So, Sonja, what are we going to do? Any ideas?’

  ‘You can have all our money,’ Sonja said. ‘No strings attached. In exchange for our lives. We’ll go away somewhere overseas and leave you to pay off your debts and do whatever you want.’

  Steele laughed out loud. ‘That’s a good one, Sonn. You’d be after me before I even finished counting it. You’re too good at killing people. Yes, Emma, that’s your mum’s real job. She’s a very good killer. No, I’m afraid that’s not an option.’

  Sonja narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m going to be dead in half an hour, Martin, if I don’t get medical attention, and you’re not going to be too far behind me.’ She looked at Emma and then Steele. ‘Listen to me. Both of you. Martin, I’m going to offer you my life in exchange for Emma’s.’

  ‘No!’ Emma cried.

  ‘Shush,’ Sonja said. ‘Martin, you can kill us both, but if that happens my money will be so tied up you’ll never get access to it. Emma, if I die then the money technically goes to you, but this creature here is your legal guardian. Sorry, baby. It’s the worst decision I ever made in my life and I deserve to pay for it.’

  ‘No, Mum!’

  ‘Shush. I want you to go with him, Emma. Let him take our money and pay off his debts. Martin, if you’ve got a shred of honour left in your body you’ll give Emma what’s left over and let her go, but I doubt you do.’

  ‘Mum!’ Emma wailed. ‘Don’t make me do a deal like this. I couldn’t live with myself.’

  Sonja looked at Steele, who simply nodded. She reached over for Emma and held her tight against her. Emma started crying again, her tears running down her mother’s face and neck. Sonja moved so that Emma’s back was to Martin, blocking his view of her.

  ‘Enough. Don’t try anything, Sonja. I’m watching you.’

  Sonja nodded and gently pushed Emma away, back down to the deck. She raised her bloodied right hand back up to the wound at her shoulder. She managed to stand, but started to sway. Emma got up and put an arm around her waist, but Sonja shook her head. ‘Sit down, my girl.’

  Sonja took a step towards Steele, who raised the AK-47 to his shoulder. ‘Not too close. I don’t want to get blood all over me.’

  Emma howled a
nd sank to the deck. Tears rolled down her face and her body shook. ‘No, Mum! Don’t please. I beg you, Mum. This is all my fault for letting him manipulate me. I should have known better. Don’t let him do this.’

  Sonja looked down at Emma. ‘All we have is each other, Emma. This is all I can give you.’

  ‘Enough,’ Steele croaked.

  Sonja glared at him. ‘You bastard. Do it. Now!’

  Steele glanced downwards, as if trying to summon the courage to do what she wanted. It was then that he noticed the rivulet of water running from the aft deck. He started to turn.

  Sam lay on the deck, looking up at Steele’s back. He had the spear gun ready and he was sure Sonja had seen him as she took the step towards Steele. He guessed she was talking to him, when she said, ‘Do it.’

  He curled his finger around the trigger and squeezed. The spear flew from the launcher just as Steele started to turn. Sam had aimed for the back of where he guessed Steele’s heart would be – if the animal had one – but by turning his torso Steele moved and the spear pierced his left upper arm.

  Steele roared and flailed and raised his gun hand again. Sam saw Sonja staggering towards the Englishman and was worried Steele would still be able to turn and aim the AK-47 at her. Sam reefed back on the spear gun, which was still attached to its projectile by a nylon lanyard. Steele yelled in pain again and was hauled off balance. As he fell he pulled the trigger and fired a wild burst of rounds from the AK. Some bullets went into the air while two others hit the deck between Sonja and Emma.

  Sonja lunged towards Steele, but he dropped to his knees and swung the empty rifle up and away from his body, catching Sonja under the chin with the barrel. Her head snapped back and she fell to the deck, unconscious. Emma screamed and fell down beside her mother, cradling her head in her hands.

  Sam rushed Steele and sent him sprawling onto the deck. He grabbed the rifle and smashed it into the planking, bashing Steele’s fingers until he let go. Steele threw a heavy blow that caught the American square on the side of the chin and rolled him to one side. Sam was unprepared for the power behind the punch and it dazed him. Steele got to his knees, reached across his body and grabbed the pointed end of the spear. He gritted his teeth, gave a war cry of pain and rage, and pulled the spear all the way through. He reversed the metal shaft, stood and kicked Sam viciously in the ribs. Sam doubled and tried to roll away, but Steele was on top of him, straddling him, before he could get away. Steele raised the spear high, aimed it at Sam’s eye and prepared to deliver the killing thrust.

  Emma saw the fight as if it was happening in slow motion. Martin bellowed like a wounded animal as he ripped the spear through his arm, dragging the nylon rope with it like a giant sewing needle.

  She saw the rage and murderous bloodlust on his face. Her fingers closed around the hard metal magazine of bullets she’d pulled from her mother’s shorts when she’d held her close. Her mum had put her body between Emma and Martin to give her the chance to find what was in her left pocket.

  Her mum was unconscious – maybe already dead – and Sam Chapman, a man Emma had only ever seen on television, was lying on his back. The madman Steele was about to kill him and then that would be the end of them all.

  Emma saw her mother’s empty pistol on the deck where Martin had kicked it away. It was at the base of the sand box that held the charcoal brazier. Emma was petrified and wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but then she looked down at her mother’s still, blood-covered body. Her mum had been ready to die for her.

  Emma rose like she was on the starting blocks at the school athletics track. She wasn’t the fastest runner, but one of the teachers said she was good off the blocks and had good reflexes. Her toes gripped the coarse grain of the wood decking and she launched herself forward.

  Steele must have seen the movement in his peripheral vision, because he turned as he raised the spear above his head. He paused, tilted back his head and laughed. ‘Run little Emma! I’ll have plenty of time for you!’

  She dropped to the deck beside the warm tin that held the fire box together. She saw him raise the spear high again, and Sam raised his hand in a futile attempt to ward off the strike.

  Emma had never fired a gun in her life but the pistol felt oddly familiar as soon as she picked it up. She’d known boys who played computer games and seen enough movies to know the basics. But there was something else. As she slid the boxlike magazine into the butt she must have accidentally or instinctively knocked or pressed something, because the top bit flew forward and she knew, right then, that it was ready.

  Emma pointed at Steele as his arm started to flash downwards and when the point of the spear was just inches from Sam’s head she pulled the trigger.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Sonja opened her eyes and the whiteness temporarily blinded her. She blinked and winced as she moved and felt the pain in her shoulder. She smelled flowers.

  ‘Here, let me help you sit up,’ Sam said.

  She looked across and saw him standing there. Bits and pieces of a dream flashed across her mind. Martin’s body; flashing blue lights; Emma crouching on the deck of the boat with a pistol in her hand; the sound of gunshots; thinking she was dead.

  Sam leaned over her and she felt strong arms around her, sliding her along white sheets that smelled of starch. That smell always reminded her of the army. ‘Where …’

  ‘You’re in hospital, in Mombasa.’

  ‘Uh. OK.’ Sonja closed her eyes and had a sudden dizzying panic attack. ‘Emma!’

  The door to the private room burst open and Emma came racing in. She wore a green T-shirt and khaki shorts. ‘Mum!’

  Emma hugged her and kissed her and Sonja ignored the pain and wrapped her good arm around her girl and hugged her tight, not wanting to let her go. Emma started crying and Sonja sniffed back a tear. With Emma still sitting on the bed Sonja looked over at Sam and held out her hand. He took it. ‘What happened to Steele?’

  ‘Emma saved our lives, Sonja,’ Sam said. ‘A fisherman came up to us after hearing the gunfire and pointed the way to the hospital, here on the main island. We didn’t have a radio or phone or anything so Emma and I got the engine started and came straight here. You lost a lot of blood and needed a couple of transfusions. We were scared sick.’

  ‘And Steele?’ Sonja repeated.

  Sam looked at Emma, who nodded, and then looked back into Sonja’s eyes. ‘We tossed his body overboard and made sure it wouldn’t float to the surface.’

  Sonja squeezed his hand. ‘Good job. Both of you.’

  ‘The Caprivi Strip was on the news this morning,’ Sam said. ‘The Namibian government agreed to sit down with the United Democratic Party at talks in Johannesburg, sponsored by the United Nations. They’re going to be discussing plans for increased autonomy and maybe even a future referendum. Parts of the Okavango Delta are flooded, but local environmentalists are saying the damage is no worse than if they’d had really heavy rains. Miraculously, no one was hurt or killed by the water escaping the dam. There was lovely video of the water running down a dry channel and elephants sucking it all up.’

  Sonja blinked as she thought of her father, and of Miriam and little Frederick. She hoped they were safe. Sonja turned to Emma. ‘I’m so sorry, my girl, that I put you through all this. I’m so sorry you had to see such terrible things, and I’m sorry for being such a crap mother.’ She coughed.

  ‘It’s OK, Mum.’ Emma laid her head down on the pillow next to Sonja’s and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you lately, and for letting that man get to me. I feel like a fool. One thing’s for sure, though, I’m never touching a gun again as long as I live.’

  Sonja tugged on Sam’s hand so that he could be closer to her and Emma. ‘Neither am I.’

  Emma got up off the bed. ‘I was just going to get a drink when you woke up. Would you like something from the shop? How about you, Sam?’

  ‘I’m good,’ said Sam.

  ‘Same here,
’ Sonja said. ‘Thanks for asking, love.’

  Emma backed towards the door of the room. She blew a kiss and Sonja smiled back at her daughter as she pushed open the door with her bum and went out into the corridor.

  Sonja kissed Sam on the lips, then said: ‘We won’t be safe until we’re on a plane out of here. There are too many loose ends.’

  ‘I think we’re going to be OK,’ Sam said, sitting on the bed beside her. ‘Chipchase called the hospital and I spoke to him while you were out of it. Somehow he knew you were here. He says his people here in Mombasa have taken care of the body of the guy you killed in the dinghy, and the security guards you roughed up in Steele’s house have been paid off. The guy with the bullet in his leg is in a private clinic working out how to spend his new-found fortune.’

  Sonja frowned. ‘I should have killed the pair of them. I still won’t feel safe until we’re out of Kenya. I don’t suppose you kept a gun?’

  Sam looked up at the ceiling, not saying anything about the promise Sonja had just made to her daughter. ‘I’ll be glad to get back to the normality of television.’ He walked over to a wooden closet in the corner of the room, opened it and dragged out Martin Steele’s green army dive bag. He hefted it up on the bed and unzipped it. Inside was the AK-47, two spare magazines of ammunition and a pair of hand grenades.

  ‘Good,’ Sonja said. ‘I feel better already.’

  Sam sighed. ‘You’re going to love America.’

  Emma paused in the corridor, reached behind her and pulled down the T-shirt, just in case her pistol was showing.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book is a work of fiction, but some of the issues in it are based on fact.

  There was a proposal, several years ago, developed by the Namibian and Angolan governments to dam the Okavango River at the same place where my fictional structure is located. The dam was meant to supply hydro-electric power to local communities. The project faced intense opposition from environmental groups and the Botswana government and was subsequently shelved.