Snyman now stood at the top of the stairs talking to Dlamini.
“How are you doing, young man?”
“I think I’m fine, Sarge. My ears are ringing but I’ve got lots of energy, hey. Even more now than before I came here, and I was so tired hey.. just want to get back on the road.. you know?”
“Ja, boet. That’s your adrenaline. Once you’ve booked off and got home you’ll sleep like a brick. Tomorrow though, when you wake up, you will feel as though you have been drinking for a week! You’ll feel like total kak!”
“I’ve heard of the older guys talk about it but I don’t know, I grew up in Alex I’m used to this sort of shit. It’ll probably just be another day for me Sarge..”
The sergeant quietly laughed and shook his head then said: “Ah, to be young and dumb again.”
Dlamini in all his ignorance just looked at the older veteran trying to figure out his meaning.
“Was that your partner downstairs, I mean did you go through police college with him?” asked Snyman.
Confused, Dlamini asked the Sergeant who he was talking about. Snyman then told him about the young student constable lying dead in a pool of his own blood having been stabbed in the neck.
“Farmers brother!” said Dlamini whose face drained of colour as he finally remembered that he hadn’t seen his friend since arriving on scene. “Is he dead?”
“I thought you knew, I thought you responded with him?”
That was all the cocky student could handle and his legs buckled under him and the sergeant had to catch him and slowly lower him to the floor.
At that moment the door to the bedroom opened and General Arosi, looking almost as white as the young constable, came through it before carefully closing the door behind him.
“Is he okay?” asked the General as Snyman stood after carefully resting Dlamini against the wall.
“He’ll be okay. He’s just in shock. I told him about his buddy downstairs. I thought he knew.”
“No, he wouldn’t have, they came through the back and those bastards ambushed us in the front. How did you get in, Sergeant?”
The sergeant went on to explain that as per their usual protocol they had stopped their vehicle about three houses down, not wanting to alert any suspects of their arrival on scene, and had walked the rest of the way to the front of the Alpha address. He told the general that before they arrived a neighbour came out of his property and had explained that he had seen two other policemen move through his yard and into Arosi’s via a small wall.
“The thing is, General, he told us that he had noticed something strange in your house two nights ago. He said he called the police and a constable had arrived and had spoken to someone at the front door before approaching him and saying that he had spoken to the women of the house and that everything was in order. He said that he was pretty sure it was one of the cops that he had seen minutes earlier jump his wall into your house..”
“Juhu, that fucking snake!”
“Ya, hey, now that was fucked up, the first policeman I’ve ever killed and in full fucking uniform hey!” said Snyman while shaking his head.
The General just looked at him, no, looked through him, still in a rage.
The veteran sergeant respectfully said: “Look General, perhaps one day, over a few drinks you might want to tell me what went on here but for now I’m more than happy to record it as a house robbery gone very wrong..”
Hearing the sergeants words and understanding the full meaning of them the General refocused his eyes “yes, sergeant. That is all that this was, a terrible home invasion gone very wrong - A corrupt cop colluding with his criminal brother to rob my house while he knew I was out of the country.”
Sergeant Snyman nodded his head.
“Do you have the suspects in your car?”
“Yes, General.”
“Good. I have made a couple of phone calls and this scene will be handed over to the C.I.U, Criminal Intelligence Unit, from SAPF Central Headquarters. Do not hand over the suspects to anyone but them. Also do not worry about giving your statement yet, you and your partner will be called to headquarters when the time is right. Now get back on your radio and cancel all responding officers. I want not a single Norwood officer in my house, understood?”
“But General, I’ve already made the call and explained..”
The General held out a hand and said: “Fine, just leave it with me, I will call radio control and explain the situation. Just look after the young man here and get him downstairs and make sure that no one but C.I.U get’s in.”
Sergeant Snyman knowing full well that things were now in play well above his pay grade said not another word and helped Dlamini downstairs and to his vehicle.
General Arosi, now satisfied that his wife and daughters were now safe and secure, at least physically, went into his study and poured himself a large drink then got onto his phone. It was going to be a long night and now he had no other desire than to find this ‘English Man’ interfering in African business and sending thugs into his home to rape, steal and murder.
Chapter Three
Oyster Box Hotel, Umhlanga Rocks, Umhlanga , South Africa.
The sun was setting at the end of a perfect South African day, slowly sinking beneath the Indian Ocean. The oceans waves lapped noisily against the sandy beach in front of the Ocean Terrace Restaurant where Michael Night, Tony Tshabalala and the man known only as Kalahari sat and enjoyed some sundowners.
The surviving men of General Arosi’s operation to reclaim Colonel Gaddafi’s gold on behalf of The National Transitional Council of Libya in the African desert had all made their way separately to the luxurious colonial-style hotel on the beachfront of the upscale Umhlanga Rocks suburb near Durban. All the men except Nickolai Stanislov, a Russian immigrant and former spetsnaz operator and now a police constable and Night’s third crew and close friend. Directly after the operation Stanislov had disappeared once re-entering South Africa, apparently on ‘family business’.
The remaining men had been at the Oyster Box for just under ten days and most of the contractors had now left to return to Johannesburg or Pretoria to their respective base of operations. Only four of the operators were left, Night’s best friend and police partner had just moved into the hotel after recovering in the nearby Netcare Umhlanga Hospital. Night had visited his friend in hospital everyday and in fact owed his life to the huge police officer – he had pushed Night out of the way of incoming AK47 fire and had taken multiple rounds to the chest only surviving because he had worn two Kevlar vests, something an average sized man would find almost impossible to pull off. But ‘Zulu’ as he was affectionately known to his friends was no ordinary man standing at over six foot six inches and some would say was almost as wide. The bullet proof vests stopped any of the 7.62MM rounds from penetrating his body but didn’t stop the force of the rounds from fracturing five of Zulus ribs and causing all kinds of damage to his internal organs. Yet he had survived and the night before he had been given the all clear and had joined his comrades in their luxurious setting.
Night had been even luckier - His bullet proof vest had taken a round directly to his chest, a finger width away from the vest’s weak point just under the armpit. The AK round failed to penetrate and had stuck fast in the ceramic plate – Night now wore the round on his neck having his name engraved on it as a lucky charm. “If there’s a bullet out there with my name on it I‘d rather have it around my neck!” he had told Shaka. Night had also taken a round to his shin and had initially thought that it had shattered the bone but was more than relieved to find that it had just been a ricochet from a stray round. It had been incredibly painful but nothing more.
In the time they had spent at the hotel Night had formed a close bond with Kalahari sharing a similar dry sense of humour and honour code. The General’s bodyguard had been distant though and had kept himself to himself.
“You know, Mike, my brother, I feel really kak sitting here enjoying this wonderful dr
ink, looking at this beautiful scene, while that big bloody bastard lies in bed, hey. Should we go join him or persuade him to join us?” said Kalahari.
Night laughed and said: “He’s not lying in bed because he has to, Kal. His wounds are healed, sure he may be a little sore, but that won’t stop him from coming and joining us if he wants to.”
“Then what the hell is he doing in bed on a night like this? Have you seen the ladies around here, hey!?”
“Walker, Texas Ranger.”
“What?”
“Walker, Texas Ranger – it’s his favourite show and he watches it every night, he loves it. He’s been watching it since he was..”
“Since I was a child” interjected Zulu while placing one of his huge hands on each of the men’s shoulders as he appeared behind them.
“Speak of the Devil” said Kalahari while craning his neck to look up at the huge warrior.
“Zulu, not Devil, although I can be” said Daniel with a warm smile while he pulled up a chair and sat next to his friends. “And you, Tony. Do you ever speak?”
Tony Tshabalala now stood and put out a hand in greeting and said: “Good to see that you seem to have made a full recovery, Daniel. But I must excuse myself, I have to make a phone call.” Tony left the table then stopped mid stride and said “Nice outfit by the way.”
Night and Kalahari then looked at Daniel Shaka’s clothes for the first time and began to laugh in unison. Shoeless, Zulu was wearing a pair of denim shorts that were at least two sizes too small and a tight fitting pink t-shirt that was so small for the man that it failed to fully cover his stomach.
“Stuff you guys, I don’t have any clothes here. The hotel gave me these until I can get to the shopping mall tomorrow or would you prefer I walk around in my hospital gown?” said Zulu.
The three men then made themselves more comfortable and enjoyed each other’s company while taking in the picturesque scene and delicious cocktails. Zulu ordered and ate food enough for four men by Kalahari’s estimation. Then finally a loud burp signaled that the giant Zulu had finally ate his fill.
“Shit, you guys look dark!” said Zulu.
“Ja, we’ve been taking in the sun, hey. All day everyday since we arrived here!” answered Kalahari with a wide smile displaying his perfectly white teeth.
“You know, Kalahari, if I hadn’t have seen you in action myself, there in that bloody desert against those Zim soldiers, I would never have thought you were a cop, specially not a bloody Taakie (Police Special Task Force Member)!”
“He’s right, boet (brother), you look more like a soft soap star, Days of our Lives style” added Night.
And the two men laughed.
Kalahari’s smile faded and then he said: “I’m hard, don’t worry about that, my friends!” and then with a quick grin added “just ask the ladies!”
“Tell me about it. In fact Zulu, I will tell you, since you’ve been lying in the hospital bed recovering this guy has been with no less than three of the local ladies.”
“Four, actually, Mike! I had a cute little waitress last night, a special kind of room service if you get my meaning.”
The men had enjoyed the after action break it was true, Night and Kalahari had started each day out in the Hotel gym in the weight section and Kalahari had even somehow managed to convince Night to join him on a 10KM run along the shoreline every afternoon. Night hated it at first but after the fourth day he relished it and his body was reacting well to the cardio vascular exercise the Black Bastards usually did so well to avoid at the Norwood gym, having shaved off a considerable amount of the slight stomach he had once carried. And as Zulu had noted both men were well tanned and looked well rested. But they all knew it was coming to an end. They knew it mentally as they knew they had to get back to work, but there was something else, something they could almost feel. A police officers sixth sense. But that they would address tomorrow. And if in some unspoken agreement all three men called the waiter over at once.
“Great minds think alike, hey boys!” said Night as the waiter came over and they ordered another round of drinks.
Some time later and it was just past midnight and the police officers were the only patrons left out on the terrace when they finally decided to call it a night, they were all due back in Johannesburg in two more days for a full debrief with General Arosi.
“All right gents, I will see you both in the morning. Gym, as usual, zero eight hundred, Mike?”
“Copy that, brother” said Night and the two men bumped fists as the tall Taakie stood ready to head off.
“Where are you off to?” asked Zulu.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, my enormous friend” answered Kalahari with a wink and a grin.
A few moments later and the two men were alone and ready to head up to their respective rooms.
“You would never think that man is as dangerous as he is, would you?” said Zulu.
“Personally yes, I like to think I would. The way he carries himself screams cop or soldier, his eyes and his build. But I suppose I know what I am looking at.”
“Hell, Mike, if I met that guy in a bar I would think he was just some pretty boy I could snap in two.”
“Haha, yes, I suppose you would. But you’re Zulu, my friend and you happen to be very large. In my experience you tend to look at most men that way.”
Zulu just nodded his head slowly obviously deep in thought.
Michael Night understood what was happening and what had happened for most of the evening. Although it was pleasant, neither Kalahari nor Zulu had properly let their guard down, both testing and probing the other. In Night’s experience it was typical of police officers to be very suspicious of each other upon first meeting. Particularly when each viewed the other as strong and capable.
“Do you trust him, Mike?”
“Yes, I do. Though like you, I didn’t at first. He is as guarded as you are, he puts on that playboy act and keeps everyone at exactly the distance he wants. Not unlike the way you do, always making everyone else laugh.”
Again, Zulu just nodded his head ever so slightly and both men stood ready to retire for the evening. Night knew full well that once both men relaxed their facades just a little they would get on and well. It took a good bottle of wine to get Kalahari to finally open up to Night. And what Night found was an intelligent, thoughtful and incredibly dangerous man. Though a man who followed a very strict honour code, not unlike Night himself.
The men reached the foyer and the hotel lift and waited for its arrival.
“How is the Lion, Mike?”
Deep in thought Mike took a moment to register the question and its meaning.
“Ah, Wamba” Night answered in a low barely audible tone, “still not so good I‘m afraid. No change. He’s still very ‘flat’, hardly moving, not responding to stimulation and the vet is talking about, well, you know..”
Night almost had to take a step back the way his friend turned and glared at him.
Wamba, Night’s loyal hound, a Boerboel or South African Mastiff, had been in an almost comatose state since being poisoned by a criminal intent on harming Night’s fiancé and family. He had laced the dogs’ food with Aldicarb, a pesticide, commonly used in South Africa by lowlifes’ to poison homeowner’s pets before robbing the household. It is deadly stuff known on the streets of South Africa as ‘Two Step’ because that’s all it usually takes for the animal to drop down dead after ingesting enough of the substance. Miraculously Wamba had survived and had even managed to take down the criminal before falling unconscious. According to the vet it was largely due to the great size of the beast but her latest update to Night that very morning didn’t make it sound as though the impressive canine was ever going to fully recover and had indeed suggested to Night that he ‘did the kind thing’ at which point Night had ended the call. Daniel Shaka loved Wamba, almost, as much as Night did. Together they had saved the dog, formerly named Tiger, from a dog fighting pit in the township of Alexandra.
/> “Promise me you won’t do that, Mike. And promise me you’ll take me with when you go to see him.”
“Of course, Daniel. It never even crossed my mind to visit the little guy without you.”
“Good. We Zulus know a thing or two about healing Africa’s beasts.”
And with that the two men called it a night and made for their luxurious rooms.
0930 – The Oyster Box Fitness Center
Michael Night and Kalahari had just finished a grueling weights circuit and both men stood undressed in the changing rooms toweling themselves down after a refreshing shower.
“So what’s next for you, Mike?”
“Back to Joburg, debrief with the General and then, well, I’m not entirely sure. Looks like my promotion to Captain has finally come through. Lisa told me some official looking paperwork arrived for me and it looks like an appointment letter. Then I might be heading off to London. That’s if Arosi’s plans haven’t changed. You?”
“Ha, I’ll have to salute you then, next time we’re both in uniform!” said Kalahari, who held the rank of Warrant Officer in the South African Police Force – One level below that of Captain and commissioned Officer Status - while standing at attention.
“That’s fine, but please don’t ever do it again naked!”
The Warrant Officer laughed and relaxed again. “Like you, to Joburg for the debrief, then back to STF base in Pretoria then we’ll see where my unit is posted. But, to tell you the truth, I don’t see myself in the cops much longer, not with the amount of money we all just made off of that last gig.”
Night In London (Night Series Book 2) Page 4
