by Tony Lavely
To this volatile mix, we’ve added six obvious combatants. Well, Amy might not qualify yet, but Sam and Willie—their presence will cast an implication on all of us even if Ian and Kevin’s profession isn’t known. The trick will be keeping the police from a) recognizing their profession and b) guessing accurately just what they were all doing there once Kevin had been mourned. I’ll talk with Ian later; he must have thought it out.
In short order, however, Ian’s mother, Carys, had reduced the tension with her gracious welcome. She gave Shalin a firm hug, then sent her to the front room with Kevin’s parents, Pieter and Natalie. The others went through introductions and before Beckie had even a chance to give her a hint, Amy had scooped Kevin’s nieces up and taken them out front where the police were still watching.
Sam, Willie and Elena faded into the background. Before much time passed, Pieter returned and asked for Barbara, to give her account of Kevin’s last minutes, Beckie guessed, and decided Barbara knew as well as anyone what to include and what to leave out.
Beckie tried to engage Tamryn, Kevin’s sister, but the woman was worried about her girls, now that Amy’d taken them out of her view. With a glance to Ian as he moved in Sam and Willie’s direction, she took the woman to the front door, so she could watch as Amy sat with the girls, describing something that took their entire attention. More comfortable, Tamryn responded to Beckie’s questions about her life and her husband and, with almost a literal glow, her girls. Beckie recognized the symptoms: two more spoiled young ladies were about to be inflicted on the world.
With a twinkle in her eyes, Beckie described the Nest, and some of Amy’s past, adding the twins’ exploits, since Tamryn’s life was certainly not going revolve around whatever would happen here in the next few days once her husband, Marc, joined them.
They watched both the kids and the policeman watching them and the house until Carys came out the door and announced dinner, “Early today, since everyone seems to have a different schedule. Rebecca, I think Ian’s looking for you.”
With a quick “Thanks,” she turned toward the door as Carys joined Tamryn in hailing Amy and the youngsters.
Seeking Smugglers
Inside, Beckie quickened her pace to join Ian next to the small table holding the Frederic Remington piece, Polo. Sam stood at Ian’s other side, along with Elena. Wonder where Willie is? And Beth? as she counted up in her head.
“Hi, love! What’s the plan?”
“After dinner, I plan to do a recce; I wish to see what the surrounding area looks like.”
“Can we do any of that from the air? And who will get the 4x4s for us?”
“I prefer to do an initial survey from horseback; depending on what we find, I will ask Patrice and possibly Mathilde to charter either helicopters or light planes.” He raised his hand to his mother. “We will be just a moment.” He lowered his voice again. “I wish for you to join me in the survey, while… If Amy Rose is willing… where is she?”
“She took the two girls out to take their minds off death; give them other distractions. She seems to be doing fine.”
He nodded. “If they are willing, she and Bethany should stay at the house, because I believe the police will withdraw before the evening. Willie is seeking rental vehicles for us.” He gestured as Willie entered the room. “Elena and Samuel will accompany him.”
“You want three then?” Elena asked.
“Indeed. We will use them tomorrow, I suspect, depending on what we discover tonight.”
“Good,” Beckie said. “And I was worried about the police and their reaction to… to all of us, moving in on them.”
“Since we have taken no action, they have no concerns to act upon,” he said with a small laugh. Elena wasn’t so reserved. “We will take our horses; it will be not quite a thirty kilometer ride to the area I wish to investigate.”
That’ll be fun! Nice to be in the saddle again. They both turned as Carys gently repeated her call to dinner.
The meal was excellent, and everyone seemed calm and relaxed. Beckie collected Amy and Beth, and the two girls who had seemingly attached themselves to Amy. “It’s okay,” Amy said. “We’re teaching each other about things.”
“Cool. Ian would like to ride out to do some recon, and he’d like you guys to keep watch here.” Before either could voice a protest, she continued, “He thinks the police will remove the guard tonight, and so you…” Her glance took in both of them. “… will be the protection.”
“We can help, too!” one of the girls said.
Beckie considered dropping to her knee, but she was short enough already. She leaned over so her face aligned with the girl’s. “Let me guess. You’re Mikeala, age fourteen, and in grade eight, I hear.”
The girl blushed. “Grade nine. I’ll be fifteen soon.”
“Excellent,” Beckie said. “Amy will put you to work as soon as we’re ready. In the meantime, you make sure your mum is okay while you wait for your dad to get here. Okay?” She twisted to face Courtney. “You too, okay? Please?”
They nodded in unison, and ran to find Tamryn. “Good work,” Amy said with a snicker. “Just like Elena and Beth…” She waved in her direction. “… handled me and Dylan, back then.”
“Well,” Beth said, “I don’t think we’ll be giving them weapons. I hope!”
“That’s for damn sure!” Beckie covered her mouth. “Sorry,” but no one seemed to have noticed. “Anyway, we’d appreciate it. I think Willie’s coming back, too, with Elena and Sam once he finds some off-road trucks for us. While Ian didn’t say, we’ll probably be out late. I have my sat phone, if anything happens… No, I have no clue what might turn up, here. Beth, your phone has all the contacts, too, right?”
“Yeah. We’ll be fine. Just, when you go for a little touchy-feely, watch for the poison ivy like tree we have round here. Hard to treat when you get it all up—”
Beckie and Amy both exploded in laughter; their merriment brought chastising looks from two of the adults, and questioning ones from all the others. “Sorry,” Beckie muttered in their direction. “Good thing the girls left, yeah?”
Now Beth and Amy had to muffle their mirth. Beckie pulled them out the front door to avoid bothering the others, but in a few minutes, Ian appeared and said, “It is time to go. Will you two maintain the… peace?”
Beth giggled, but Amy said they’d be fine.
In the barn, Beckie backed Ian against the stall wall for a lingering kiss, then told him about Beth’s warning. For the first time since they’d arrived, he laughed before saying, “You will have no difficulty. I have great familiarity with the area. Still,” he said with a smile—the smile I love!—“my strong preference is the bed. At the least, a blanket!”
“So, you’re saying no fooling around this evening?”
“I fear not. But that is not why—”
“It sure isn’t! I never thought of it til Beth said.”
“Indeed. She hails from Pretoria, and the plant is as prevalent there as here.” He pulled her in for a final kiss, then took her to select tack for the ride.
As they saddled the horses, Beckie asked, “What is Beth’s background, anyway? I mean, she’s fun and smart and good with handguns and hand-to-hand fighting, but…”
Ian chuckled. “Those are insufficient recommendations, then?”
She blushed, but with her head behind the horse’s body, Ian wouldn’t be able to tell. “No. I mean… Damn. I was curious, is all. Did you and Kevin know her, like, from before?”
“No. We were too far apart, and she is younger by two years, so our paths did not intersect until she responded to… Now, I do not recall who recruited her. Perhaps Kevin.” He checked the chinch and swung up into the saddle. “Ready?”
With a nod, she mounted her ride. “Ready.” As she followed him out of the barn, she asked, “What’re her specialities?”
“Besides the ones you named? She spent five years in the Special Task Force, a division of the Police Service here. A
counter-terrorism force, among other things. She will be glad to enlighten you, and more accurately than I.” Another of the small laughs that Beckie loved.
“I’ll talk to her later then. What time’s sunset?”
“About quarter to six,” Ian replied. “Not quite two hours.”
“And the horses? In good shape?”
“Probably over-coddled. We should arrive at the forest just before sundown, given that the trees will bring darkness on earlier. The area I wish to investigate… I plan to reach it by nine or half-past.”
“Hmm. Okay. How’s Kevin’s family doing?”
He rode several yards before answering. “I suspect Shalin is the most stable of them, though Tamryn’s concern about her husband may be her greatest issue. You did well, suggesting that her girls help her.” He rode a little further. “I believe they will all recover, sooner or later. Shalin asked that Patrice and Mathilde return and collect the twins before the service. I agreed.”
“Good!” She twisted in the saddle to catch his eye. “When will the service be, then?”
“They are still discussing that, but I expect very soon after the twins arrive.” He looked at his watch. “That will put it Monday morning, I think.”
“What day’s today? Sorry, just confused.”
“Friday evening. Now, when we enter the undergrowth ahead, take care for your horse’s footing. If I remember, he is not as adept as you might wish.”
“You’ve ridden him before?”
“Your astonishment cuts me to the quick!” His laugh belied his words. “I put you on him intentionally. He’s just over thirty, and it has been twelve or fifteen years since I last rode him.”
“That was… before you met me.”
“That note of astonishment again. I did have something of a life prior to our engagement.”
“I guess you must have,” she said. “Sorry I missed it. Well, some of it, anyway.”
The canopy closed over them and Beckie followed Ian’s lead between the trees and bushes.
With an hour to go, they broke out of the trees into a clear area. The moon, though waxing, was about an hour from setting, and three or four days from first quarter, so dimly lit best described the scene as Beckie reined up beside Ian.
“What?”
“Checking the waypoint.”
When he finished and took the reins again, she took advantage of the relatively easier riding to ask, “Where are we headed? And more important, what do you expect we’ll find there? Unarmed, as we are.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose this would now be appropriate.” He turned in his saddle and wrangled his pack around in front.
After a minute’s digging, he drew a… Beckie couldn’t tell what it was. It looked like a… “A web belt, Ian? What’s that for?”
“Patience, love.” He spurred his horse close to hers and handed her the belt, wound tightly on itself.
“Damn,” she said as she fumbled and nearly dropped the lump. Finally it was clear and she could see. “My God, Ian, thanks! I meant to complain about Amy’s P229, but, but this should be awesome! A…” She held the pistol to catch the light in the engraving: SIG P238. “I was looking at their website the other day, and this… this feels as awesome as it looked.” She hefted it. ‘Yeah, it’s a lot lighter than the P229.” She checked for the empty magazine and chamber, then sniffed the end of the barrel. “Have you fired it?”
“One box, just to verify it. Tomorrow, we shall visit a range just outside PMB where you may test it yourself.”
“So we won’t need it tonight?”
“Indeed. Due to its size and caliber, that is a defensive weapon, not an offensive one. Further, I expect to see no one tonight.” He slapped his mount carefully.
And that’s all you’re going to say about that, I guess. She buckled the belt with the holster, and followed, pushing her pique away.
Before they moved back under the trees again, Ian raised his hand to signal a stop, and swung down. He pulled the pack off and as Beckie watched, he spread a blanket and with a wave, invited her to sit.
She took the invitation, grabbing her own pack to lay beside her. “What’s all this, love?”
“We are enough early that we can pause for some refreshment.”
“Champagne and caviar?” she said with a giggle.
His snicker confirmed her guess; he held up a handful of energy bars and two bottles of water, one still, the other sparkling. “Your pleasure, Madame?”
She took the effervescent one along with two bars and set to them. While they enjoyed the snack, the moonlight faded as clouds moved in from the escarpment twenty kilometers to the west. When Beckie pointed behind him, Ian said, “I believe we should don our waterproofs.”
Beckie’s astonishment returned until, watching him, she opened her own pack and found a neatly folded poncho. By the time she had it over her head, Ian had fitted his own, and a light rain had begun. “Will the rain be enough that the horses will need covered, too?” Beckie asked as she fitted her pack to the saddle in preparation for leaving.
“No. We will be under the trees until we return here on the way back, and the temperature, while chilly, will remain above freezing.”
“You’re sure of that report?”
He turned to look back, and Beckie pretended a huge shiver was racking her body. He did a double take, then laughed with her. “We will be fine.”
“Sure! And… Oh, never mind.” Better to focus on the riding.
In another couple of hours, Beckie was sure that snow was falling above them, covering the treetops. However, only water was dripping down on her; no ice so far. She’d just wiped her face and neck when Ian’s hand went up in a quiet-stop warning. She reined the horse in and rubbed his neck in case he wanted a calming touch. He seemed fine, not even blowing in frustration.
Ian dismounted and tied his mount’s reins to a branch. Beckie did the same, then sidled up beside him.
“I heard something ahead; perhaps a donkey?”
“I must have been sleeping,” Beckie said. “Heard nothing.”
“It was not loud. Move off to the left about five meters, and we will see.”
Beckie was always pleased when Ian assigned her a full role, even though it had been that way since before the wedding. She slipped in the direction he’d said and, finding a couple of landmarks, started away from the horses.
Only a couple of steps out, she stopped and worked her way out of the wet poncho. Be easier to move, and I can pick it up on the way back. She was happy she’d pulled on black for their jaunt. The tracker would allow Ian to find her, as his would her.
She’d heard the quiet braying a couple of times when Ian’s mini-flash lit in her direction. She stopped and waited while he made his way to her. Impatient, she took another few steps. Then, through a break in the branches, a half-dozen small pack animals stood stolidly within a rope corral. Yup, donkeys.
“You have seen?” She nodded in response. “My plan is to circle around. I neither see nor hear anyone, just the animals, and I wish to verify that.”
“Hmm. Who would leave them here?”
“Smugglers. As they move the product on, the animals wait here. They have food. The smugglers will return, but probably not tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Relatively. The trip back up the escarpment is not easy, and in rain, it is even worse. At night in the rain… I believe they will await daybreak, at least.”
“So what are we looking for? Besides the donkeys, anyway, which I guess prove that something’s going on. We are on the deVeel’s property, right?”
Ian reached for his GPS. “Yes, by almost a hundred meters.”
“And we can be sure the deVeels wouldn’t have left animals out while they’re staying with Carys and Nigel. So something’s going on. What are we going to find?”
“Indeed. I hope to discover their camp close by, and that they may have left useful clues there, thinking themselves safe for the time being.”
“Okay. I’ll park here, and keep watch from this side. Signal if you find anything. If you want me to join you, flash the light.”
He pulled her into a damp embrace, ended it with a kiss, and tramped off.
Wish I’d kept that poncho now! Leaning against one of the evergreens that filled the forest, Beckie made herself as small a target for the raindrops as she could. She waited for twenty minutes before a slight noise sharpened her attention. Reaching for the butt of her new pistol, she waited for Ian to pop out of the bushes. He did, but cautiously; stepping well clear of a bush perhaps ten meters from her, he made sure she could see and recognize him before joining her.
“Come.” As they proceeded, he said, “They left a rudimentary camp, with nothing of value. However, I did discover five roaches. Hardly sufficient, to be sure, but it seems likely these are our smugglers.”
“Roaches?”
“The butt of a smoked marijuana cigarette.”
“Oh. I missed that in the D.A.R.E. class, I guess.” She looked around the space that Ian had led them to. “How many guys? And with six donkeys? How much can they carry, anyway?”
“Until we know more, it is all conjecture. However, dagga prepared for shipment to the United States, for example, can be sold for R1000 a kilo. The animals can carry perhaps fifty kilos each, though half that might be a better estimate, given the terrain between here and Lesothos. This dagga would not be ready for shipment, so would be worth less. Perhaps R100-R150 per kilo. So, if they carry—”
“If they carry 25 Kilos each, that’s…” She worked the problem out. “That’s over R20 000 for them all.”
“For less than two week’s work. And they can repeat every two weeks. R20 000 twenty or twenty-five times a year. R400 000 per year. With per annum poverty level income at R10 000 or less… You can see the attraction.”
“Yeah! If it’s two guys, they’ve beat the game in one trip.”
“Indeed.” Ian began a survey of the area, and Beckie did the same, going in the opposite direction. When they finished, Beckie posited that they’d learned only that the campers had used two or three tents, of a size that made two occupants likely.
