The clearing was huge and immaculately manicured with green lawns and palm trees. Cleverly hidden lights shone on the lawns and back of the building. To my right near the house were a line of six shaded car ports. All were occupied and I could see the shape of the Hummer I had seen Angelique and Tintin arrive in at the water-sports centre. To the rear of the carports was a tarred driveway with a roundabout to the centre. There were dim lights on either side of the driveway at twenty metre intervals and I saw them stretch off to my right until the bush of the tropical garden obscured them. I had no doubt that it led back to the main entrance to the property. The manicured green lawn stretched off on the other side of the driveway and appeared to continue all the way around the other side of the house. I decided I would stay in the safety of the darkness and carry on skirting the house to the right. I would, at one stage, have to cross the driveway but that didn't worry me too much. What puzzled me was there was no movement. No people. No guards patrolling and no staff. A house of that size would require a lot of workers to keep it running, but apart from the guard house I had not seen any staff quarters at all. Staying in the darkness I moved on. It was only when I was approaching the tarred driveway that I became aware of a buzzing sound behind me. It was different from the constant sound of the cicadas and I was sure it was a machine of some sort. I stopped to listen. The sound went quiet and then repeated itself every few seconds or so. What the fuck is that? I thought, and in the middle of the night? I shook my head and decided to continue.
The noise got louder as I went and it was when I was only metres from the driveway that I noticed a pathway leading off into the jungle behind me. There was no doubt the noise was coming from that direction.
I looked up the pathway and although it was well trodden I could see no lights. The tarred driveway stretched off into the distance to my left. My curiosity got the better of me and I shelved my plans of skirting the main house. I decided to investigate the source of the noise. I replaced the night vision goggles and started following the pathway while keeping at least five metres away from it to the right. As I moved, the sound got louder and louder as the pathway wound its way around huge trees and bushes. By that stage I was certain what I was hearing was machinery of some kind. Suddenly, as I rounded a thick bush, I was blinded by a bright light that shone white hot in the green monochrome of the night vision. I stopped immediately, squatted down, and flicked the goggles upright. Through the vegetation, in a clearing not twenty metres away, was a large building. It had a steel frame and corrugated walls and roof. The metal of the walls were grey in the moonlight. To the front of the building was a large sliding door that was in the closed position. Bright lights shone from the inside through the crack between the sliding door and the wall, and the noise of the machines continued. I paused to watch and listen. The building was well-hidden in the jungle. Had it not been for sound of the machines I would never have known it was there. There were various spots around the building where the metal of the walls were joined and the light shone through. It would be too risky to approach the main door so I decided to move around to the right of the structure and see if I could have a look inside from there. The sweat ran down my body as I crept through the darkness and the undergrowth to the right of the building. As I reached halfway, I noticed there was a half centimetre gap between the corrugated iron sheeting of the wall. It ran all the way up to the roof and the light shone through brightly. I decided that I would approach and have a look at what was going on inside. I felt dangerously exposed as I moved from the cover of darkness into the clearing that surrounded the building. As I approached the wall, I noticed a small white piece of paper on the ground. It was only three centimetres square but I picked it up as I crept forward. It felt like a small packet that contained tiny plastic balls but I didn't bother examining it as I was only a few feet away from the gap in the wall. Slowly and very carefully I moved my right eye into position not an inch from the wall and looked inside. It took a while for what I saw to sink in but once it had, I was totally mesmerised.
Bright industrial lights hung from the roof of the building, illuminating the interior to almost daylight. On the far side of the building, and covering the entire wall, there were a series of metal racks that went up as high as the ceiling. On each shelf lay white surfboard blanks. There must have been at least fifty of them. To the centre of the room, standing near a work bench, stood a black man in a brown dust coat. On his face, he wore goggles and a protective mask.
His hair was full of white dust. In his hands he held an electric router and using a template, he was in the process of neatly removing a section of body from a surfboard blank that was held in a large padded vice. The dust sprayed out as he finished the job before placing the router on the bench to his side. When the dust had settled I noticed a large man pacing up and down near the sliding door to the left. There was no mistaking him, it was Tintin. He was smoking a cigarette and he looked impatient as he walked. The man in the dust coat then picked up a rubber air hose and sprayed compressed air into the neat rectangular hollow in the centre of the surfboard blank. Once the dust had settled Tintin stubbed out his cigarette, picked something up from a table to his left and walked towards the machine operator. My heart beat a little faster as he approached. He was carrying a tightly wrapped rectangular plastic package. The plastic of the package, although thick, was transparent and there was no mistaking the contents. It was a white powder. He handed the package to the machine operator, who then placed it into the hollow made by the router.
It was a near perfect fit and the package only required a few taps with a rubber mallet before it was neatly embedded in the hollow. Tintin nodded grimly in approval to the machine operator. He then manually loosened the padded vice grip that held the board, and carried it to another work bench on the right. There were at least five surfboards that had been through the same process on the bench. I guessed that the next part of the job would be the sealing of the boards with fibreglass and the job would be done. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was starting to make sense. I had stumbled across a highly efficient and mechanised cocaine smuggling operation. I watched in amazement as Tintin returned to his observation spot and the process started again. The machine operator walked around the workbench and collected another surfboard blank from the shelving. He then carefully fitted it in the padded vice and set to work again with the router. As the dust flew I remembered the small paper packet I had picked up as I approached the building. It was still in my right hand. I was barely able to take my eyes from the scene that was playing out in front of me, but I forced myself and held the tiny packet up to look at it. There was printed blue lettering on one side. It read ‘Silica gel. Do not swallow.’ It made sense. Silica gel was a drying agent. In the tropical humidity of Zanzibar it would be essential to keep the product free of moisture. I imagined there would be a lot of it around. I had seen enough. My head was spinning and I needed to gather my thoughts. I realised that I had been standing there for some time and I was exposed. I backtracked through the clearing and made my way into the cover of the jungle behind me. Once I was safely in the darkness again, I squatted down to think. What I had seen explained a great deal. It explained the source of Carlos da Costa’s immense wealth.
It was a lot more of than the manufacture of surfboards. It certainly had nothing to do with the bottled spring water and everything to do with him being an international cocaine smuggler. It also explained the connection to Richard and the source of Richard's wealth. He was a cocaine importer. There was no doubt in my mind. The Aston Martin. The luxury flat in Sloane Square. His business for fuck’s sake, The Boardroom. It all made sense now. It explained the nervous exchange of bags he had made with the two Indian men in the restaurant in Notting Hill in London. Cash for cocaine, it had to be. London. London seemed a million miles away. It felt like I had been away for years. So much had happened since I had even thought of London. It also explained Richard's own drug use. His father had been one hundred p
ercent right. He was up to something illegal. Very fucking illegal. More importantly I was now absolutely certain that Carlos da Costa was an incredibly dangerous, powerful, and ruthless man. There was no doubt. Through all the steamy heat of the undergrowth I felt a dreadful cold chill spread through my stomach and my mouth went dry. Richard and Angelique were treading on fucking thin ice. If they were to be found out, who knows what the consequences would be? Considering a simple waiter had been savagely beaten and killed for stealing some food and drink. What would Carlos do to Richard? For that matter what would Carlos do to Angelique? Were they fucking crazy? Were they complete idiots? Perhaps their love for each other had totally blinded them? But what the fuck should I care? I was doing a job. It was simple. Do the job, answer the questions, and get the fuck out. This had become very dangerous indeed. But no, it wasn't that simple. This was no ordinary job. Through my stupidity, I had become fond of Richard. In some way he was like a son I had never had. For some strange reason I felt an urge to protect him. And what of Angelique. Who could not be fond of her. Who could not love her for that matter. A cold black cloud of fear and worry descended on me and for a moment I felt desperately helpless. All the good feelings of myself regaining some control were now blown out of the water. I would have to confront him. If necessary I would beat some sense into him. It had gotten to the point that I didn't even care if I had to tell him everything.
Tell him that I had been hired by his father and followed him halfway around the world. Tell him I knew everything and threaten him if necessary. Tell him I was no friend of his. Make him see sense. I decided that was what I needed to do and I would do it immediately. I needed to get back to the clearing and then make my way to where I had left the rope. I flicked the night vision goggles down and took a look around. It was then that I noticed a light in the distance to my right. It was coming from an area to the back of the factory. I stared at it for a moment wondering what it was. I put the goggles in the upright position and realised it was very dim and would hardly be noticed by the naked eye. It was late.
I had made my mind up on what I was going to do but my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go and have a look. I moved around the building in the undergrowth until I was directly behind it. When I arrived, I noticed another pathway heading in the direction of the light I had seen. Staying in the bush, I made my way parallel to the path. It wound off to the left and then to the right. I passed a few large boulders as I went. I had not seen any rocks on the premises since I had seen the waiter get beaten on the night of the party. Eventually I arrived at what appeared to be a large rocky outcrop. A small hillock covered with boulders and bushes. The source of the light I had seen appeared to be coming from within it. From where I was I could only see a faint glow emanating from what appeared to be an entrance to the base of the hillock. I stared at it feeling somewhat puzzled for a while. Then I remembered that Hassan had mentioned the fresh water caves that were on the property. He had told me he used to play in them when he was a kid, before the government had sold the property to Carlos. I could only imagine that this was what I was looking at. There was no sound except for the machinery from the factory and there was no movement from the caves. It would be risky but I decided to have a closer look. I crept out of the bushes and into the clearing in front of the entrance. The path under my feet was well-trodden but the entrance was naturally concealed by vegetation. I paused and looked inside. There was a gap in the rocks that must have been seven foot wide and ten foot tall. Below me were a series of stone steps that led down to a small natural pool. It was completely still and silent inside and had I not known it was water one would imagine you could walk on it. The source of the light was on the other side of the pool. It was brighter there and had it not been for the night vision goggles I would never have known the place existed. I felt an overwhelming urge to go in and look closer at what was there but there was also a feeling that once inside, I would be trapped. I had no idea if there was a way out on the other side. What if someone was to come in behind me. It was dark inside, and I was blacked up, but if someone was to come in, they would surely be carrying a torch or would activate some kind of lights. Again my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go further into the cave.
I noticed a well trodden walkway hewn from natural rock to my left. It led all the way around the silent pool of water to the source of the light. There was no other way there except through the water. There were huge stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave. I took one last look behind me. There was no one in sight and there was no noise at all from inside the cave. Silently I made my way down the rock pathway that skirted the water. The only sound I could hear was that of my heart beating and my breathing. The light got brighter as I approached it and I saw that in front of me was another natural entrance to another cave.
It was only when I walked through and turned right that I saw the source of the light. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was in a subterranean office and the light came from a simple desk lamp that had been left on. There was a telephone, a carpet, a fan. There was a desk with pens and writing paper as well as an electronic calculator. I was flabbergasted. I pulled the torch from my bag as the glow of the lamp only illuminated the desk area. The walls and ceilings were all rock that were yellowed and melted by a million years of running water.
The desk had a comfortable chair behind it with two positioned in front of it. It was bizarre to say the least. My instincts told me to keep out of the light so I moved around the space keeping close to the wall and made my way around the cave. It was when I got behind the desk I saw a wrought iron barrier that had been built into the walls of the cave in concrete. There was an access gate but there was a strong-looking lock to the latch. The area inside was completely dark. I walked towards it and when I arrived I flashed the torch on to see what was behind. The fact that there was an underground office in a freshwater cave was astounding to say the least, but what I saw behind the gate came as no surprise. In front of me was a storage area with wooden pallets all over the floor. Neatly packed on top of the pallets were telephone book-sized packages of cocaine. They were stacked up on top of each other and were at least three foot high. Packed all around them were thousands of tiny bags of silica gel and covering them was a large sheet of thick transparent plastic. I had found the factory where the product was concealed and made ready for shipping and I had also found the office and storage department of the entire operation. I stood for what seemed like an eternity, staring in amazement at the sheer quantity of the deadly white product in front of me. There must have been at least half a tonne of the stuff. In my mind I saw then how it all worked. Carlos and Tintin would run the admin from the cave. Then the product would be moved, bit by bit, to the factory where the the machine operator would perform his duty of preparing the surfboard blanks, loading them, and sealing them. What happened after that was a mystery but I could only imagine the finished boards were shipped out to the big factory on the mainland in Dar Es Salaam, combined with standard unloaded ones, and then on to various destinations around the world. Richard would only be a small fish as far as the scale of the operation went. I was certain that he would have no idea of the existence of the Zanzibar factory or the cave. He would simply receive batches of surfboards, remove the important ones, open them up and then act as a wholesaler to the packers and dealers of London. A dangerous but extremely lucrative business. I turned around wanting to have a look at the desk. The sight of the light made me feel exposed once again. Darkness was my friend and the light a deadly enemy. I decided against it. I had seen enough and had been in the cave for too long.
If someone were to come I would have to either attack him and put him to sleep or I would have to kill him. None of these appealed to me. It was time to leave. It was then I felt a light breeze on my face. I had not seen any holes in the walls and I wondered where it might be coming from. I shone the torch around me and saw nothing. It was when I shone the torch above me I saw an opening
in the roof of the cave. It appeared natural and was roughly a half metre in diameter. I imagined that it would be a good source of light during the day as well as a good source of ventilation for the office. It was in the centre of the ceiling of the cave about five metres above and I could see the stars in the night sky through it. I felt a sense of being trapped. It was definitely time to go. What if Tintin were to return to collect more product? There was no way out except the way I had come in.
Quickly and quietly I made my way out of the office and back into the freshwater pool area of the cave system. It was reassuringly dark, but I knew I had a good thirty metres of walkway to cross before I would finally be out in the open. As I walked I prayed that I would meet no one. There were no lights or noises as I made my way, and eventually I was out and hearing the sound of the machines from the factory once again. I flicked the night vision goggles down and hastily crept into the undergrowth. My mind was blank as I skirted the pathway back towards the factory. I passed with no trouble as the two swing doors were still shut. Panting slightly and sweating profusely I tracked the path back towards the clearing where the car park and driveway were. From there it would easy to cut through the bush and make my way to the perimeter wall.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 28
