Sam Harris Adventure Box Set

by P J Skinner

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘I must know.’

  ‘Mama Mbala went to see the foreigners at the mining camp.’

  Victor dropped him and the boy fell to the floor where he lay cowering. Victor was also frozen with fright and horror. Then he shook himself. They would rape and kill her too. He had to stop them. Oh God, what had he done?

  He wrenched open the door of the car and jumped in slamming it shut. The vehicle careered down the road into town, close to crashing on every corner. Victor’s panic increased with every minute. The empty streets mocked and accused him. He leaped out of the vehicle and rang down the main street pounding on doors, shouting with all his might.

  ***

  Kaba had not arrived at the camp yet. Unable to bear the tension in the office, Sam had gone for a walk with Hans and Jacques. Mbala refused to come, hiding in the bed under the covers. There was still a chance the rebels wouldn’t find her. They wanted Sam.

  Despite the ghastly circumstances, Sam couldn’t help feeling proud of the changes since her arrival. The accommodation blocks were military in their neatness.

  ‘You’d have made a great soldier,’ said Hans.

  ‘The Legion doesn’t know what it’s missing,’ said Jacques.

  The newly painted kitchen block lured them in and they made tea with some of Sam’s precious supplies.

  ‘You’re letting us have a tea bag? You’re going soft,’ said Hans.

  Sam did not mention the elephant in the room. She punched his arm.

  ‘Don’t be cheeky or you won’t get one.’

  It was an effort to maintain the jovial mood, and soon they sank into silence sipping their tea, each of them deep in their thoughts.

  Loud cheering at the entrance gate broke their contemplation.

  ‘Come on,’ said Hans.

  ‘We need to face Kaba,’ said Jacques. ‘Maybe we can change his mind.’

  Sam could not speak. Mute with fear, she had to force her stiff limbs to move towards the gate. She walked between the two men who closed ranks so that their shoulders touched and bumped hers.

  As they approached the gates, Kaba’s men shouted and leered and made gestures at Sam that left her in no doubt of the outcome were they to enter. Hans put Sam out in front of himself and Jacques. They stood so close to her back she could feel the heat of their bodies. It was comforting.

  Kaba had been sitting in his car outside the gate, in no hurry to get out. He had the upper hand and intended to enjoy it. He threw his legs out first and heaved himself vertical, smoking a Cuban cigar clamped in his teeth. His men slapped him on the back and offered encouragement with lewd hand signals as he strolled into the camp and planted his feet wide in front of Sam.

  Sam’s face was ghost white, but she did not flinch.

  ‘General Kaba. You’re welcome to Masaibu Project. How can I help you?’

  Kaba hesitated. He glared at her but she did not react. She waited.

  ‘You’ve got a fucking cheek,’ he said finally. ‘Give her to me and I’ll let you live,’ he said to Hans.

  ‘If you want her, you’ll have to take her,’ said Hans.

  He removed his Glock from his waistband and took off the safety catch. Sam jumped at the sound but she didn’t look over her shoulder. A hornet drifted by, trailing its long body behind it, causing them all to duck. Kaba shook his head in disbelief and beckoned his men through the gates.

  The rebels took their guns off their shoulders and checked they were ready to fire. The pungent smell of sweat and unwashed bodies filled the air. Then they lined up behind Kaba, their lips drawn back from their teeth, and lifted the guns to their shoulders. Jacques stepped forward and took Sam by the hand. His grasp was warm and strong.

  Then Hans put his arm over her chest and pulled her to him. She could feel his heart beating, fast and strong. She took a deep breath and let it out, gazing up a lone cloud that was drifting lost in the now blue sky. Time stopped and Sam shut her eyes.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion behind the rebels. A roaring of voices that got louder and louder. Some shots rang out, and Sam winced waiting for the coup de grâce, but none came. The mayor was pushing his way through the ranks of Kaba’s men, shooting in the air and leading about five hundred townspeople who were all armed with an assortment of weapons, mostly AK47s, the gun of choice in African nations.

  The bedraggled army flowed into the camp and lined up in front of Sam and the security men. They outnumbered Kaba’s troops by four or five to one.

  ‘Go home, Joseph,’ said Victor. ‘No-one will die today.’

  ‘She is mine,’ said Kaba.

  ‘She is ours,’ said Victor. ‘You are finished here. I have alerted the army to your presence. If you and your men leave today, you may get away.’

  ‘You’ve got a fucking cheek,’ said Kaba, looking around for support, but his men were slipping away like black shadows. He spat on the ground, spun on his heel and marched off followed by his remaining followers.

  People who had remained in camp overnight, emerged groggy eyed in time to witness the celebrations of the jubilant local people as the troops melted away with their leader leaving Sam, Hans and Jacques frozen in position.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Alain, who was the first to appear.

  ‘A little local difficulty,’ said Jacques.

  Hans still held Sam tight to his chest as if he was afraid to let go. Alain stared at them with his head tilted to one side in question. Hans released her and stood back embarrassed.

  ‘Sorry, I forgot,’ he said.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Sam, who had been paralysed by shock, and not even noticed, only the sensation of being safe.

  ‘That was close,’ said Hans.

  ‘I thought we were toast,’ said Sam.

  ‘We need to find out who sabotaged the cars,’ said Jacques. ‘Philippe’s a prime candidate but he wouldn’t know where to find the spark plugs on a vehicle.

  ‘It’s also unlikely that he would stoop to getting his hands dirty with real grease,’ said Sam.

  ‘Leave it with me. Someone will tell me,’ said Hans. ‘It’s likely they were offered a king’s ransom to carry it out. Bygones should be bygones in this case,’ and he stomped off to assemble the security men.

  Sam did not argue. The drama had arisen and passed so rapidly she wondered if it had been a nightmare. She could still feel Jacques’ hand enveloping hers as Hans’ heart thundered into her back. The adrenaline coursing around her system heightened the sensation and made her feel sick. This is not an appropriate time to feel lust.

  ‘Are you okay?’ said Jacques. ‘You were amazingly brave. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice,’ said Sam. ‘I was too afraid to run away.’

  ‘Courage is being scared to death, and saddling up any way,’ said Jacques.

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘John Wayne.’

  They both giggled. Absurdity is the best cure for adversity.

  ***

  Things returned to normal within hours. After the rebels left, the mayor picked his wife up in his plump arms and kissed her with a tenderness that did not compute after the violence to which he subjected her. Mbala did not protest, and even smiled, as Victor carried her out to the waiting car.

  Having nothing better to do, Sam held a staff meeting which was remarkable only by the mundane nature of its contents. She refused to answer questions about the rebels and concentrated on the continuing problem maintaining the ancient vehicle fleet.

  As the managers left to go to their offices, Alain put his hand on her arm.

  ‘Are you really okay? What happened out there?’ he said

  ‘It’s over now. Just another day in paradise.’

  Chapter XXXI

  A week later, Bruno rushed back to camp from his break, desperate to give Sam the evidence she craved about the widespread corruption in the Lumbono pr
ojects. He had spent the whole of his time at home fretting about the papers in his possession. His attempts to inform Sam about developments in Goro were thwarted because the rebels had cut the telephone lines to Masaibu camp, and it took almost a week for them to restore communications.

  His agitation increased on hearing about the abortive attack on Masaibu. The occupants of the camp were gossiping like a hive of bees about the goings on. It was hard for him to take in as he was still stunned at the speed of events which took place in Goro after he photocopied the statements.

  Charlie Okito left Goro the day after he telephoned Dirk Goosen, fleeing to the South of France where he owned a small villa in the outskirts of Cannes. Unaware Charlie had absconded, Sara left for Senegal to join a friend who was making shea butter from Karité fruits and needed a trusted helper with whom to run the business. There was no way of knowing if she would stay safe in Goro as Charlie Okito could have organised a revenge attack on her, so she stayed away.

  Bruno walked straight to Sam’s office on his arrival and found her frowning at a beetle walking along the top of her computer screen, his claws slipping on the shiny surface. When she raised her head, he saw the strain written on her face. He hesitated.

  ‘Bruno, welcome back. Did you have a good break? I thought you weren’t back until Friday?’

  ‘I found something important. It couldn’t wait.’

  Sam groaned. Would the problems never stop?

  ‘I don’t understand. What sort of thing?’ she said.

  ‘Papers, bank statements. You were right. Charlie Okito siphoned massive amounts of money from the company,’ said Bruno.

  ‘How did you get these papers?’ said Sam, clenching her hands.

  ‘From the office, I…’

  Sam gasped. ‘The office? You went to the office. Are you crazy? These people are dangerous.’

  ‘I don’t care. I’m sick of them running my country into the ground. I wanted to help you like you helped me.’

  He stood his ground, defiant and plump, almost comical. Affection for this unlikely warrior overcame Sam’s shock at his actions.

  ‘Wow. You’re a hero. Well done,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, Mama Sam,’ said Bruno, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

  ‘I was just about to call Johannesburg as communications have been cut off for a week since the rebels paid us a visit. The lines have just been restored. I expect you heard about Kaba coming here?’

  ‘Just now. I can’t believe it. You are lucky to have survived. Joseph Kaba is notorious.’

  ‘Not anymore. He left for Bukavu with his tail between his legs. They say he has acquired a cobalt mine over there.’ She reached out to him. ‘Okay then. Show me what you’ve brought.’

  Bruno handed her the rolled-up sheaf of paper which would not lie flat on her desk. Sam put rock samples on the four corners of the top document and balanced her head between her hands. She whistled as the contents of the first statement became clear, but she did not react as he had expected. Instead she bit her lip and read them between big sighs.

  She raised her head.

  ‘You took a huge risk but it was worth it. I can’t quite believe it. This is all the proof we need of a massive fraud. You’re a genius.’

  Bruno flushed and looked at the ground.

  ‘That’s not all, Mama Sam,’ he said. ‘Charlie Bembo has left the country. He emptied the company bank account on his way to France.’

  ‘Jesus, what has head-office said?’

  ‘I’m not sure if they are aware yet. There is no one left in the office to tell them. The Johannesburg office may be assuming that the lines are out of order,’ said Bruno.

  ‘Listen, what you did was fantastic and foolish at the same time. I’m grateful to you, but I need to call head office right now and you shouldn’t be involved.’

  Bruno lumbered to his feet.

  ‘That’s okay. I need to have a shower. You can tell me what they say later.’

  ***

  Sam made herself a cup of tea and ate some stale biscuits while rereading the explosive contents of the documents on her desk. She compared the entries with the list she had brought from South Africa and the truth crystallised in her head. It was her duty to tell Morné Van Rooyen what his managers were up to. This would not be an easy conversation.

  She pulled the telephone towards her and lifted the receiver to her ear. They had done a good job fixing the line and dial tone returned. Holding the receiver between her shoulder and her chin, she pinned the address book open with one hand and dialled with the other. Just when the phone connected and rang, the receiver slipped out onto the floor. She grappled around and lifted it to her ear.

  ‘Hello? Who’s that? Sam, is it you?’

  ‘Miriam? Hi. How are you?’

  There was the sound of a nose being blown and Miriam came back on the line.

  ‘Not good. There’s terrible news about Dirk.’

  ‘Has he had an accident?’

  ‘Nobody knows what happened, but he drove through the barriers at the Big Deep and he’s dead.’

  She wailed. Sam couldn’t speak at all. Dirk dead? What was going on?

  ‘I’m so sorry. I know you worked with him for ages.’

  ‘Fifteen years,’ said Miriam, sobbing. ‘Hang on, Morné’s just come in. I’ll pass the phone to him.’

  ‘Hi Sam, I gather Miriam gave you the news. Everyone is in shock here. Dirk was a legend in his own lifetime at Consaf,’ said Morné.

  ‘How awful for you all. What would you like me to do?’

  ‘I’m going to come on a visit. Would that be okay? We need to talk and I don’t think this is the right place for that conversation.’

  ‘Just let us know when you are arriving and we’ll pick you up at the airport,’ said Sam.

  ‘Miriam will fax you.’

  He was gone. Sam replaced the receiver with a shaking hand. She left her office to find Hans and scrounge a cigarette. Dirk was dead. What on earth had happened? From what Miriam said, he had committed suicide. Could it have something to do with the papers that Bruno removed from Charlie Okito’s office in Goro? Miriam told her to trust no one. Had she included Dirk in that warning?

  She decided not to tell Hans and Jacques about the manner of Dirk’s death in case they had a conflict of interests with their management. Who knew who else was involved in the scam? Morné’s visit would be an important milestone for the project. That should keep them busy.

  ***

  Dirk’s death hit Sam much harder than she had expected. Why didn’t he run away like Charlie Okito? Perhaps it was the shame of being discovered? It just didn’t add up, but there was no way of finding out. She brooded on the conundrum and became withdrawn, embarrassed and even sad at the results of her triumph. Not even the terrible twins, Jacques and Hans, could make her smile.

  She trudged around the project like a wet weekend affecting everyone’s mood, but she wasn’t the only one. Philippe, the sole remaining vestige of resistance in Masaibu, had capitulated. He slunk around camp and cringed like a beaten dog when Sam was near. A man who would have crowed from the roofs if Kaba had had his way, he now acted as if his days were numbered.

  Morné’s visit was an excuse to get in some special food from Uganda. The freezers were groaning with beef and pork steaks and Sam reviewed menus with over-excited cooks who relished the visit of the boss as a chance to show off their skills. She took a dim view of being told that the big boss was coming at last. Where she had imagined that she was the big boss, she had only been keeping the seat warm for Morné Van Rooyen.

  ‘It’s the culture,’ said Jacques. ‘You are a woman. They will never accept that you are the boss. They are expecting a man to take over. You can’t win.’

  ‘Ungrateful bastards,’ said Sam, her bubbling sense of resentment breaking surface for once.

  ‘It’s not their fault.’

  ‘I know. I just hope
d they would appreciate me by now but it seems, unless I grow a penis, I’ll never make the grade.’

  ‘Don’t do that. I’d find it very hard to fancy you with one.’

  ‘So, you fancy me now.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ But he blushed and changed the subject. Another conundrum.

  Frik and Bruno were constant visitors to her office in the days before the visit, discussing inconsequential improvements and paint colours. She hadn’t the heart to discourage them. They had formed an unlikely friendship which was touching in the way that a newly formed couple is; their sideways glances of approval and shared jokes making Sam feel jealous.

  Alain kept his head down, working on the new resource estimate with some junior geologists. He did not seem able to talk to her any more. Had he known something about the attack? She wouldn’t have blamed them for staying in their houses. Kaba’s beef was only with her.

  ***

  Just when she was at the end of her tether, she had another nocturnal visit from Hans. He knocked on her door as she was going to bed. She only wore a t-shirt and a pair of knickers, so she peeped out through the curtain to see who it was. Hans was standing outside with a bottle of whisky hanging from his hand. It caught the light and glinted with purpose at her.

  She should have told him to go away, but the tables had turned. Now it was she who needed comfort. She pulled open the door and put her hands on her hips.

  ‘And what do you want? Do you know what time it is?’

  ‘I’m checking on my troops. Morale is low. It’s my job,’ he said, stilted by his fading bravado.

  ‘Morale is low,’ Sam agreed. ‘Come in.’

  He poured them a whisky and she sat in the recliner with her legs drawn up under her t-shirt while he perched on the uncomfortable sofa.

  ‘We’re worried about you,’ said Hans. ‘Is it the elephants?’

  ‘Oh, everything. Just struggling. This job is hell.’

  ‘But you’re finally winning.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. Dirk killed himself and it’s my fault,’ said Sam.