Night led by little Shongi entered a large hall and were greeted at the door by the boy’s father.
“Shongi, time for you to head home and do all your homework before your watch on the cattle begins at sunset.”
“Yes father, it was nice meeting you, Captain.”
“Thank you, Shongi. It was nice meeting you, and your beautiful dogs.”
The little boy smiled at Night and ran off with all the enthusiastic energy of a happy 12 year old.
Night offered his hand to the boys father.
“My name is Michael, William I believe?”
“Yes, William Masana, but you can call me Will.”
“Good to meet you, Will. You have a remarkable son, you know.”
“Yes, he has a good mind and a kind heart but I worry about him.”
“Why?”
“He is young but for some reason he lives in the past, for instance did he tell you that he slept with his dogs when they were puppies? They were inseparable, he was only 9 years old at the time and he slept with them come rain or shine.. he says it’s what Shaka, the great Zulu King, would have done.”
“Well he obviously cares deeply for them. I thought that would please you being a vet?”
“Within reason, I suppose. But dogs are not our friends, and Boerboels in particular. Those are working dogs and earn their keep by protecting those cows who are worth a great deal of money. Besides how can humans be friends with dogs that can kill them so easily?”
“They seemed nice enough and well trained to me.”
“I’m not sure about them being nice, and they are certainly well trained, they would do anything for my son and some of the other herd boys but they are animals at the end of the day and we shouldn’t lose sight of that fact. Those dogs have already killed a poacher who was on our land. And I’m not talking about a sophisticated criminal, merely a hungry man trying to take a cow for food. If it were up to me I would have had them put down.”
“Thankfully then it’s not up to you.”
William Masana tilted his head towards Night and smiled.
“I thought you would think that way. The dogs belong to the chief, in our tradition and legally, so having them destroyed was not within my power. Anyway, you are here for your own… pet?”
William Masana now stopped smiling and he lifted an eyebrow.
Night was fully aware of what the vet was attempting to do and considered responding in a more cold and intellectual manner, something he thought William would perhaps appreciate. But it just wasn’t in Night’s nature.
“He’s far more than just my pet, William. He’s my son!”
William shook his head and laughed out loud.
“You white people. You not only think animals somehow belong to you but you actually think of them as family. And you say black people are not intelligent.”
“I’ve never said that, in fact I’ve never even thought that. And yes I do agree it is rather absurd for me to think of Wamba the Boerboel as my child, just as your son thinks of the Chief’s dogs as his children. But love is unexplainable isn’t it?”
William placed an arm on Night’s shoulder and leaned in close to him and spoke in almost a whisper.
“Love can be a very dangerous thing, Captain.”
Night was going to respond, how exactly he was not sure, but before he could and before he could properly make sense of William Masana’s demeanor Daniel Shaka came into view and called over at Night as he approached.
“Mike, my brother, did you meet the other Boerboels? Gwala is my favourite and he loves me the most.”
William removed his arm from Night’s shoulder and smiled at the new arrival.
“Mike, hello, brother?” repeated Shaka.
Night realised he was still staring at Shongi’s father.
“What the hell is his problem” Night thought to himself.
He then turned his attention to his friend.
“What did you say, Zulu?
“Zulu, ha, very clever and original nickname” mocked William.
Now Daniel’s demeanor changed and he waved a finger at the vet.
“Don’t start with your kak with my friends Willie, I happen to like my nickname, in fact I gave it to myself, didn’t I, Mikey?”
“You sure did, brother. Anyway I am getting rather bored with all this fencing. How is my boy, he’s is after all the only reason I am here.”
“He’s doing very well, Mike. The Inyanga says that he will survive but he needs to stay here for a few days while he recovers.”
“What did they do to him?”
“We, healed him. And not by any magic. Or at least what we would define as magic” said William.
“How did you heal him?”
“With herbal medicine. Your vet must have pumped his stomach but that does not rid the body of the poison that has reached the organs and brain. Our medicine does that. We’ve long been having to deal with white man’s poison, you do know that is what Aldicarb is, don’t you. A white man’s pesticide used to spray crops to ‘protect’ them from insects. The water run off causes cancer and is deadly to the environment, our people have been effected by it long before criminals started using it to poison white people’s pets. Lucky for you though, hey Captain. Lucky that we could save your dog.”
Zulu now stepped in close to the vet and while towering high above him said something in Zulu. Night didn’t understand the words but understood their meaning with ease.
William backed up two steps.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen, an absolute pleasure meeting you, Captain Night.”
William turned on his heels and left the building.
“What did you say to him?”
“Ah, Mike. It’s complicated. He’s actually a good man he’s just still pissed off about how things were. Anyway, forget about him, we need to get back to Joburg, do you want to see little Wamba before we leave?”
What a question.
Michael Night and Daniel Shaka left the hall and entered a small rondavel. The Inyanga was leaning over Wamba who was lying on some straw and was splashing a liquid over his head and chanting something in Zulu. Daniel took a seat on the floor and gestured for Night to do the same. They sat cross legged and watched the Inyanga do his work for another five minutes before the Inyanga stood, put the liquid away and walked over to join the two police officers.
“We have given him his muti and I have washed away the evil spirits. He will heal, in time, if the ancestors will it. He just needs to eat raw meat and drink the blood of a lion and he should be fine.”
Night made to stand and speak to the Inyanga but his friend put a hand on his shoulder and gestured for him to not say anything.
The Inyanga smiled warmly at Night and left the small hut without another word.
Daniel waited for some time before finally standing and signaling for his friend to do the same.
Night finally thought it appropriate to speak.
“Lions blood, really?”
Shaka laughed.
“Yes. It is very powerful. And don’t worry, no lions will be killed. The chief supplies some of the local lion farms, you know the ones the tourists love so much, with meat and they in turn supply the chief with Lions blood, drawn from the animal, on occasion.”
Night and Zulu spent the next half hour with Wamba gently stroking the large animal and talking to him soothingly. Night was extremely encouraged to note that Wamba actually opened his eyes and looked at Night before closing them and once more dozing off.
“He’s sleeping now. Let’s head back, Mike. We’ve got a big week ahead training those young pups.”
Chapter Eight
Norwood Police Station.
The previous day Night and Shaka had made good time getting back to Johannesburg. Night had once again slept most of the way, the effects of the violent night before still working on his nervous system. He had arrived at Lisa’s parents home in Kensington disappointed to find that he had missed her an
d that she was working nigh shift at radio control and would be all week. This meant that not only would he not see her all week but that her expertise would not be on hand while Night and his crew were working the day shift.
The day shift for the Norwood Crime Prevention Section now stood on parade as Shaka walked up and down the line checking each man’s uniform. The students or ‘sharks’, short for ‘shark shit’, as they were known stood front and center. Their nerves masked by their excitement at being allowed out on the road for field training.
“Officer on parade!” Boomed Sergeant Shaka.
The police officers, fully fledged and student alike stood to attention and saluted Night as he stood before them.
Night returned the salute.
“Stand at ease!” Commanded Sergeant Shaka.
Night then sorted all of the men into crews and sectors and assigned them vehicles for the days duties, also giving each Field Training Officer one of the three remaining students to teach for the week. Night placed student constable Dlamini with himself and November Whisky Fifty. The brother of the K.I.A student was on compassionate leave making funeral preparations with his family for his brother.
“Alright gentlemen, that’s it. Stay safe out there and remember two is one and one is none” said Night.
“Parade. Attention. Dismissed!”
The police officers then marched off in step before breaking off and then found their crews and made their way to their assigned vehicles and began preparations to head out.
“Sergeant, prepare the vehicle, while I have a little chat with Dlamini over here.”
“Copy that, Cappy”
Student constable Dlamini looked sheepish and Night knew why. He walked over and stood to attention in front of Night, saluted and then said: “General, my General.”
“It’s Captain, now, shithead!”
“Yes, Captain, my Captain!”
“You know why I want to talk to you, don’t you?”
“That’s a negative my General, I have no idea” lied Dlamini.
“Look, Dlamini. I know you were the one who took the keys to November Whisky Fifty. I’ve confirmed it with that day’s shift commander and I saw you staring at us yesterday as we got in it. I’m not that bothered by it. But Sergeant Shaka is. So, you either tell him yourself and apologise profusely or I’ll tell him it was you, which I can tell you he won’t like. It’s better he finds out first from you.”
Truth be told Night was also trying to save his own skin. If Shaka knew that Night knew he would want Dlamini to be put on charges for taking State property without permission. Which would be tricky anyway since the young student didn’t actually drive the vehicle and the man that did was now dead. Best for Night to be seen to find out the same time as Shaka and then play it from there. Night had a suspicion it would be best for Dlamini although he knew the young man wouldn’t see it that way at the moment.
“Oh that! Well we had to save the real General, and we didn’t have another vehicle available and I didn’t actually drive the Beast. That traitor Juhu did!”
“First of all stop calling me General. And secondly I know why you took the keys but the fact remains that you didn’t have authorisation to take them. Anyway I realise the whole thing was unfortunate and you had no ill intentions when taking them. But while we are out on the road I want you to tell Sergeant Shaka that it was you that took them and why and hopefully that will be the end of it, understood?”
“Yes, General… I mean Captain. And by the way congratulations on your promotion Sergeant, it is well deserved.”
Night laughed and was about to dismiss Dlamini when he noticed Kalahari appear from the station exit. He was behind the student and was pointing to his leg for some reason. Night then noticed why.
“What is that on your thigh, Dlamini?”
“You must be joking, right, Cappy?”
“Not at all.”
“Well it’s my gun of course, my baby.”
“And why is your gun in a thigh holster, while I was away did you pass selection and join the Special Task Force?”
“No, Cappy. But I will join them one day.”
“So you do know then that only STF members have the right to carry their side arms in that manner?”
“Of course I do, I’m no square head. But like I said I will be joining them one day and I know the boss of the Task Force and he gave me special permissions to wear a thigh holster” Dlamini said with a happy and confident nod.
“What’s his name?” said a voice from directly behind Dlamini.
The young student obviously startled by the voice spun on his feet to meet the owner of it.
Dlamini was about to make some name up but his mouth opened and closed without saying anything as he registered the camouflaged uniform of the man standing in front of him. His eyes then found the wings pinned to Kalahari’s chest signifying that he was a Taakie.
“Lost for words, boy?”
“Ah, shit. I was going to make some name up but I guess I can’t do that now seeing as you are real.”
Dlamini then put out his hand and poked the chest of Kalahari seemingly testing the veracity of what he was seeing.
Kalahari swatted the students hand away.
“What is your name, shark?”
“Ah, my name, my name is my name. I mean my name is Dlamini, most senior General.”
“What the fuck is a senior General?”
“You are, great General.”
“Warrant, just call me Warrant and take off that holster before you are put on charges.”
Wordlessly Dlamini took off the thigh holster and just held it in his hands while still staring at the Warrant Officer.
“Well, where the fuck are you going to put it now, you can’t carry it all shift?”
“I don’t have my side holster on me, Warrant General. It’s in my room.”
“Then go get it!”
Dlamini then spun once more on his heels and faced his Captain.
“Permission to get my side holster, Cappy?”
“Yes, go and be quick!”
The wiry student was off and nearly tripped over himself as he turned to take in one more look at the STF Warrant Officer.
Kalahari stood to attention and saluted Night. The Captain just waved it away.
“Sorry I am late, Mike. I had to go to Pretoria first thing this morning to fetch my uniform and weapons.”
“No worries, did you bring your MP5?”
“No, just my R1, shotgun and sidearm.”
“Well that’s disappointing?”
“You want to use the MP?”
“Um, yeah!”
“Haha, no worries, Cappy. I’ll ask one of my mates to bring it with him tomorrow. I wanted to introduce you to him anyway and they’ve been assigned to help with some operation in Sandton tomorrow, so they’ll be close by.”
“Sounds good, man. Thanks, I’ve always wanted to work with that weapon.”
“Do you want to use the R1 today?”
The R1 was a larger 7.62MM calibre rifle compared to the NATO ammunition the majority of non specialized units in the South African Police Force used in the R5 fully automatic assault rifle.
“Nah, that’s more of Stani’s thing. I’ll stick to my shotgun and you keep with her. You’ll be taking Stani’s place effectively anyway until he returns.”
“Copy that, Cappy!”
Just then the sound of a powerful V6 petrol engine announced the arrival of The Beast on the parade ground and Shaka pulled the vehicle next to the Captain and the Warrant Officer.
“What’s taking so long, guys, let’s hit the road, I’m bloody famished” said Sergeant Shaka.
Just then a breathless student constable Dlamini appeared running down the steps towards November Whisky Fifty.
“This is going to be an entertaining shift” said Captain Night to no one in particular.
“Control, November Whisky Fifty, Zero One” said Captain Night over the radio.
<
br /> “Go ahead November Whisky Fifty, I’m listening.”
“Thank you, Control. Driver, Sergeant Daniel Shaka, Force Number: Three, Two, Seven, Nine, Zero, Three, Zero, DASH, Seven. Crew, Captain Michael Night, Force Number: Two, One, Seven, Nine, Six, Three, Zero, DASH, Seven. Third Crew is Warrant Officer… um, just stand by for me please, Control” Night realised he didn’t actually know ‘Kalahari’s’ first or second name.
“Make it quick, November Whisky Fifty, I have a complaint I need to give to you.”
“Kal, how do I book you on?”
“Don’t. I mean if it’s okay with you, Captain?”
“You like to be mysterious hey, boet?”
“Maybe, and I’ll sign on in your Officer’s Diary if it makes you feel any better?”
“Yeah, it will actually. And it would be nice to know your real name.”
“Control, November Whisky Fifty, I have a Warrant Officer and a student constable also with me in the vehicle. We will be doing crime prevention, Norwood, all sectors, Alpha complaints only, Control. So received?”
“Yes, Norwood, all sectors, crime prevention. I have a complaint for you, can I send?
“Is it an Alpha, Control?”
Alpha – Is in progress.
“Negative, it’s a Bravo, November Whisky Fifty, can I send it?”
Bravo – Already Happened, usually means lots of paperwork.
“Negative, Control. As I said, we are an Alpha vehicle only!”
“No way, November Whisky Fifty, there’s no such thing. All vehicles must respond to all calls from members of the public, now get your pen and paper ready I am sending this complaint, understand?”
“Who the hell is this guy!?” said Shaka.
“I have no bloody idea, but he sounds new and like one of those everything has to be done by the bloody book kind of guys!”
“November Whisky Fifty, come for Control?”
Night ignored the controller as November Whisky Fifty turned on to the bustling Louis Botha Avenue in Orange Grove – One of the main arteries between Johannesburg city centre leading all the way down to Alexandra Township and beyond. The sound of hooting, mainly from the mini-bus Taxi’s, was incessant, trying to attract new customers, who stood and held up different hand signals indicating their desired destination and if a particular taxi was indeed going to that destination it would stop, wherever that person happened to be standing, often causing other vehicle’s following to slam on their brakes to avoid crashing into the back of them and then hooting at the taxi in anger themselves and so it continued. Designated Taxi ranks existed but only at the beginning and end of a journey and there were many kilometers between where people would be offloaded and a good taxi never had any less than at least five people over the legal limit, how else would they make money.
Night In London (Night Series Book 2) Page 11
