November Whisky Fifty pulled up to a scene of utter carnage and what Night and his crew were about to see would mark them all for the rest of their lives.
Chapter Twenty
The cash in transit vehicle was on fire. Flames engulfed the entire back section of the vehicle and a tower of thick black smoke billowed into the sky. The heavy Mercedes Benz used to ram the security vehicle onto its side was left abandoned next to the CIT vehicle, its doors open, its front smashed in and both front airbags had been deployed. Glass littered the ground around both vehicles. Night exited November Whisky Fifty and with weapons drawn he and Kalahari circled around the CIT vehicle to the left while Shaka circled it to the right.
As the police officers came to the front of the vehicle they saw the three corpses of the security officers. All three men had been made to get on their knees and had had their hands tied behind their backs. Now they were nothing more than empty cadavers each being executed with a 7,62MM round to the back of the head. Night noted teeth, hair and brain matter scattered onto the ground to the front of the dead men.
“They’re long gone by now” said Shaka.
“Where’s November Whisky Ten and Yankee Six Six?” asked Kalahari.
The three police officers all looked around searching for the police vehicles that had called for backup. Among the civilian vehicles that had stacked up behind each set of traffic lights the officers searched for their colleagues. More backup units were finally arriving on scene when a man came running through the traffic screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Help! Help! Help!”
The man, out of breath from both fear and panic, reached Night and between taking gulps of air spoke to the police captain.
“Your colleagues… they’re badly hurt… dead even… come quickly…”
The man grabbed Night’s arm, turned and began to run back the way he had just come, jerking on Night’s arm as he ran.
Night followed, worried for the well being of his friends but still alert to any possible danger of ambush. As Night jogged on after the man he felt the presence of both Shaka and Kalahari following close behind.
As the men turned a corner down a small side street perhaps 50 metres away Night stopped dead in his tracks as he saw November Whisky Ten and Yankee Six Six parked in the middle of the road. Both vehicles’ blue lights were still on and flashing but their sirens were off with the engines idling.
Kalahari pulled up next to Night’s shoulder and the men moved forward together first looking into November Whisky Ten and then Yankee Six Six. What they saw was the same in each vehicle – their windshields were both littered with bullet holes, at least a dozen rounds had penetrated the glass and both pairs of police officers were slumped in their seats where they sat. The vehicles’ interior was covered in thick, dark red, almost black, blood. The police officers had each taken multiple rounds to the face and head. Night opened the door of November Whisky Ten and felt the pulse of the driver, constable Jacobs. Not that he needed the confirmation but out of force of habit and for official reporting and statement purposes. He knew he wouldn’t find a heartbeat.
“Jacobs is gone. Zulu, check Florence…” said Night indicating to November Whisky Tens crew.
Kalahari moved to Yankee Six Six and checked on its passengers.
“Mike, she’s dead” said Sergeant Shaka.
Night waited a moment while the Warrant Officer checked the Flying Squad members for any signs of life.
“Kal?”
Kalahari simply shook his head before closing the driver’s door.
“They’re dead, Mike. Looks like both men took at least three rounds to the head.”
60 Minutes Later.
The vehicle fire had been extinguished, the vehicles removed from the road by civilian tow trucks and delivered to Norwood Police Station for further investigation. The crime scene investigators had been and gone, photographs, fingerprints and DNA lifted and taken. The two Johannesburg mortuary vans had miraculously arrived on scene within the hour. The first time in Night’s career that the Mortuary vehicles had arrived so quickly. Though the fact that the National Police Commissioner was personally on scene and had made a few phone calls himself was probably the cause for all of this new found efficiency within the South African Police Force.
Night now stood in a circle with the National Police Commissioner, the Norwood Station Commander, the Johannesburg Flying Squad Commander and the Station Commanders of Bramley, Sandringham, Alexandra and Sandton.
“For the benefit of everyone now here, Captain Night, tell me once more how you think this tragedy happened, how the hell did we lose four police officers today, in one incident?”
Night felt vacant. The deaths of old constable Jacobs and the only female member of his crime prevention shift, Florence Gumbi, and his friends from Flying Squad, Snyman and Demon, whom he both had thought of as indestructible, had shattered him.
Night was lost in his sorrow and the National Commissioner had to repeat the question. Captain Indaba, the local area Flying Squad Commander, and a man whom Night respected deeply and had known for many years put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Captain Night and Captain Indaba were the only officers to wear the stars and castles exhibiting their rank under their bullet proof vest straps. All the other officers displayed their ranks on their shoulders like ornaments on Christmas trees. Night felt sick just looking at their shiny, polished surfaces.
Plastic Policemen.
“Mike, just tell us what you think happened? Snyman and Demon were two of my most well trained and highly experienced officers. I desperately need some insight here. How will I explain this to their families otherwise?”
Night looked down into the eyes of the diminutive Captain and then into the eyes of the National Commissioner, a tall slightly overweight heavy set man, and then at the rest of the commanders present, some he respected, others he didn’t. As far as Night was concerned only Captain Indaba needed to hear his words, and perhaps the General. Night didn’t know the man well enough to know if he was all talk and no action or if indeed a warrior lurked under that highly decorated and over the top uniform.
Night opened his mouth to talk but found himself caught between incredible anger and deep sorrow and he found himself unable to speak.
At that moment Captain Mbuyo with his three Special Task Force members behind him stepped up to the gathered commanders and quickly stood to attention and saluted his superiors before sending his men away to join Night’s crew.
“General, Captain Indaba, Captain Night, station bosses.. do we know how this happened?”
“How dare you speak to me that way, you will address me as Colonel, Captain!” said Colonel Lembedi.
Captain Mbuyo tilted his head at the large woman and a smile spread across his features “Are you not a station boss, Colonel? Never mind though, Colonel, I totally understand how important your rank is to you so you have my apologies but truth be told no officer here with any mind for tactical matters cares for rank, well as much as bullets care for rank… though I’m sure..”
“Enough, Captain. We are thrilled you and your men are here but the local Norwood ground commander here, was about to give us his tactical insight into what he thinks just happened, so please let’s just all listen a while shall we?”
“Certainly, Captain Night, I’m all ears?”
Night was warming to the STF commander and he had to suppress a smile that was threating to break through his despair.
“Our men did nothing wrong. If you look at their positioning, just behind where we are currently standing…” Night then indicated to where the two police vehicles now stood empty waiting for a police tow vehicle to take them to Norwood police station. “They heard the call for a vehicle hi-jacking in progress, as I did. November Whisky Ten was already in the area and Yankee Six Six was close. But as they made their approach they must have heard the gunshots and seen the traffic backed up so they probably flagged each other down and took a divers
ion off Louis Botha avenue, coming here, in anticipation of finding a CIT heist in progress, so they did what we all would’ve done in their position – pull off to a side street some distance from the Robbery in Progress and waited for backup before moving in convoy and in numbers to confront the threat…”
“But, Captain?”
“But.. whoever it is that did this knows our tactics and moved to neutralise our men before they could gather strength and strike, and here’s where I would have deployed my sharpshooters…” Night pointed to a low wall that was the boundary for a residential property. “Get some men over that wall and you may find some shells, General, though I also wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t find any, these guys seem professional enough to have cleaned up their casings.”
The General ordered one of his bodyguards to get over the wall to see what he could find. “… and don’t disturb any evidence you may find..”
“And then they left. Melting away into Alex with the cash boxes, no more than five mikes away before going underground.”
“Any idea who these bastards are, Captain?”
Night considered his options and delayed his answer by just a moment.
“Army Commandos, General.”
There was a collective gasp as the Station Commanders took in this information.
Only the General looked nonplussed at the news.
“And how do you know this, Captain?” demanded Colonel Lembedi.
Night was thinking about answering when the General cut in.
“Your Captain here seems to know well what is going on in his area and its surrounds. Captain Mbuyo here has been hunting these traitors for the last week, reporting directly to me, Captain Mbuyo do you agree that these are the same men?”
“Undoubtedly, General. We have been monitoring them closely and this matches their MO to the letter. One of my teams has just captured one of their members in a house raid in Sandton. I was on my way there to interrogate the man myself when I got your call, General.”
“That’s excellent news, Sello. Then I won’t hold you up any longer, get to your men and interrogate that man. As for everyone else – we’re going into Alex!”
“But General, we haven’t launched a special operation into Alex since that disaster with that thug they called the devil?” said the Sandringham Station Commander.
“And National Standing Orders prohibits us from entering Alex in force, General?” said the Sandton Station Commander.
“I am rescinding that order, it’s time we took back Alexandra. Besides that bastard, uSuthane, is dead. Now is the perfect time to strike and reassert our dominance in the area.”
“When do you propose to launch this operation, General?” asked Colonel Lembedi with a skeptical look.
The General looked at his Rolex before replying.
“2000 hours tonight. After the sun has set and before Alexandra is completely drunk. That will give Captain Mbuyo enough time to question his suspect and get us an exact location. And enough time for all of you to call your entire station strength on duty. Tonight we launch a special operation into Alexandra the likes we have never seen before. We will parade at Norwood Station at 1930. Dismissed.”
Chapter Twenty One
Norwood Police Station – 18:35.
Night stood on the second floor of the Norwood police station and looked through an office window, down onto the back of the station where hundreds of police officers from all over Johannesburg stood waiting to stand parade and launch a special operation into Alexandra Township – For many years a township that the police had standing orders to never enter with any sizeable strength. Only the Alexandra Police Station units regularly patrolled the streets of the township and the occasional police units from neighbouring stations would sometimes enter the area to recover stolen vehicles through satellite tracking systems or arrest low level suspects on warrants. Always sure to be quick in and quick out. Over the years, though, a number of rookie or naïve officers had entered Alexandra to arrest wanted suspects or recover hi-jacked vehicles and had taken too long in executing their warrants and were subsequently set on by the mob that seemed to materialise each time officers showed themselves in Alexandra. Only Alex cops themselves, the men and women who patrolled those dangerous streets daily, didn’t draw huge crowds on attendance at any scene.
Those Plastic Policemen often had their own firearms taken from them and used against them. Sometimes the police officers were set alight. And at other times their heads were removed from their bodies.
Night had been into Alexandra countless times in his career but he was always mindful of his two golden rules: Be polite and courteous to everyone and get out quickly the moment more than six people make themselves present at a scene. If a crowd was building in front of the officers it usually meant more people elsewhere and out of view of the police officers were closing off roads and setting up road blocks and death traps.
Night had just left Colonel Lembedi’s office and had respectfully requested operational control for all Norwood units entering Alexandra. His request was sharply denied. Colonel Lembedi was going to take control of all Norwood personnel and lead the operation into the township herself. This despite all of Night’s warnings and her lack of tactical operational experience.
Night carefully opened the window so that he could hear the sounds and voices of the police officers below him. It wasn’t the words of any of the police officers that struck Night in the face like a hammer blow but rather it was the energy of the gathering police officers that caused the veteran police officer’s hairs to stand on end.
Murder was in the air.
Three brothers and one sister had been gunned down in cold blood earlier that day and these gathered officers would have their revenge. Night had felt this darkness before and it always ended with more death.
“God be with us” said a voice from behind the Captain.
Night turned to face the familiar voice of General Arosi.
“Indeed and it’s good to see you here, General. Perhaps you can put a stop to this madness before we have another Marikana massacre on our hands?”
The General moved to stand beside Night shoulder to shoulder and both men gazed down at the blood lust officers below them as they talked.
“I’ve just spoken to the Commissioner and there will be no changing his mind. We’re going in and we’re going in hard. You know the mood of the people as does the General and he wants to make a point. He also seems to be fully aware of just how much blood might be spilled tonight. And if this does turn into some sort of township war it will be a lot worse than Marikana, Mike, a lot worse. But I’ll tell you one thing, the energy is the same. I was there that day as the men were deployed in and around those fields and it felt exactly like this.”
“Surely there must be something you can do, Amos?”
“I’ve done all I can do for the moment and at great personal risk to my own reputation… but it had to be done. Now, all that any of us, any of us who know what the hell is about to happen, can do, is find a way to get out of the way and as far away from this monumental cluster fuck as possible.”
“What have you done, General?”
It was a question that Night wouldn’t normally ask but under the circumstances he wanted to know. And perhaps even unconsciously to Night himself his relationship with the enigmatic General was changing.
General Amos Arosi now stared at Michael Night with an almost imperceptible look of understanding at the young Captain’s new found potency or was it cynicism.
“You don’t usually ask me ‘the how’, Mike?”
“Well this is an extraordinary situation, Amos, and I don’t see what it is exactly that you could have done to make this situation any better?”
Arosi considered Night for a long moment before eventually speaking again. His words were measured and spoken softly.
“I’ve warned the gangs of Alex, the top bosses of all the taxi associations and the most powerful and influential
men of the criminal underworld that we are coming in this evening and that they should get out.”
Another part of the young, naïve and idealistic police officer in Michael Night died with the General’s words but he saw the sense in them.
“Do you think they’ll listen?”
“Hard to say, now that we’ve removed uSuthane they may want to put a marker down and hope another standing order not to enter in force again may be issued if this does indeed turn into another massacre of sorts. But I explained that the advantages of walking away for one night outweighed any perceived gains of engaging us in all out war – And at the end of the day, Mike, they know full well they’ll come off worse than us, we’ll take losses and some innocent civilians may die in the cross fire but if they take it to that level then God help us all, I will personally make sure we kill so many armed thugs and criminals tonight that it will change how we police in this country from this day forward.”
The look in the General’s eyes chilled Night to the bone.
“And what about the press, they’ll crucify us - the General, you?”
“They’ll find themselves far from any action tonight, don’t worry about that. They’ll all be at the back of the bus, so to speak, in a Casspir that is going to have an awful lot of mechanical failures.”
Night’s phone rang and he extracted it from his jacket pocket to see an incoming call from an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“Michael Night?”
“Yes, who is this?”
Night In London (Night Series Book 2) Page 23
