The Jason Green series Box Set

by Gordon Wallis

  “Sorry for your loss,” I said to both of them shaking their hands.

  Next, I moved on to speak to Teresa Kriel who was clearly very distraught and was being tended to by a friend. I took her hand and spoke.

  “Hi,Teresa you don't know me, my name is Jason Green. I came from...”

  “Oh my God you're Jason!” she interrupted, a look of frightened desperation on her face “Hannes spoke about you all the time. Oh, thank you, thank you for coming.”

  Her hand shook nervously in mine.

  “Please, please stay a bit longer,” she pleaded. “There's something I need to talk to you about. There is tea being served in the courtyard. Please stay for a while and I'll find you there. Please!”

  I was taken aback by the sense of urgency in her voice and face. Immediately I put it down to grief and shock.

  “Of course,” I said. “I'll be there.”

  It was the last thing I wanted or needed. I had paid my respects to my old friend and was desperate to leave. I hated funerals and I needed to get on the road. However, it was a plea I could not ignore so I made my way out of the church building and into the burning sunshine. Some of the crowd were leaving while others were making their way to the courtyard area for the tea. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the two men in suits at the far side of the car park. They were still standing there watching proceedings, talking quietly. Again, their presence gave me a slightly uneasy feeling, but I put it out of my mind and followed the crowd into the courtyard. The tea and coffee and snacks were being served to the left-hand side of the courtyard. In the centre was a raised fish pond with water lilies and a fountain. I made my way to the linen covered table that was serving coffee. Standing next to me as I poured was a large man with a wizened sunburnt face. He delved into his pocket and withdrew a silver hip flask from which he poured a liberal tot of whisky into his cup.

  “Good idea,” I said under my breath.

  He raised his eyebrow surreptitiously signalling his willingness to share to which I quickly offered my cup. The man poured a substantial shot.

  “Cheers,” I said quietly.

  I turned around to look at the crowd. Teresa Kriel was surrounded by friends, but she constantly turned to look at me to make sure I was there. I nodded once to acknowledge my presence and walked to a quiet corner to drink my coffee. I stood alone wondering what it was she wanted to talk to me about.

  After a few minutes she excused herself from her friends and made her way over to where I stood. With shaking hands and a look of desperation on her face she pulled me into the corridor that led to the church office. Once we were alone, she spoke.

  “Oh my God Jason you have no idea how glad I am that you came. There are people after me, after my family!” she said on the brink of tears.

  “What's going on?” I asked.

  “You know Hannes was involved in anti-poaching and elephant conservation” she said.

  “Yes, I know that.”

  “Well for the past year he has been involved in some top-secret investigation and was unable to tell even me what he was doing. He said it was far too dangerous for me to know anything about it. He was murdered Jason. Murdered! The police said it was a robbery that went wrong but it just doesn't add up. He was afraid for us all. Me, our kids.”

  She held my elbows tightly as she spoke looking up at me.

  “They've been following me since we got back from the Zambezi Valley. Did you see the men outside?”

  “I did notice two strange men hanging around yes,” I replied.

  “That's them!” she said. “We had a robbery at the house last night. They left the TVs, the speakers, the safe, everything! They took only the laptop computer. They are after Hannes' work! I'm leaving with the boys this afternoon and flying to Port Elizabeth in South Africa. They are after us! We'll be safe there.”

  I shook my head not knowing what she wanted me to do.

  “Hannes trusted you with his life Jason. I know it's been a long time, but I need to give you something. He would have wanted it that way. Please, please take it.”

  “Take what?” I asked.

  She began to frantically rummage in her large cloth handbag and brought out an external hard drive which she pushed forcefully into my right hand. I knew of course that she was bereaved and upset but it was starting to become clear to me that she was frightened as well.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “That is Hannes' work Jason. He made a point of telling me that what he was working on was far too sensitive and dangerous to simply leave on the laptop. He told me that if ever anything was to happen to him that I was to keep this hard drive safe and give it to someone outside the country who he trusted. There is no one he trusted more than you Jason. The laptop they took last night had nothing on it. Nothing. Hannes was far too careful. Anything of any importance is on that hard drive.”

  “What do you think it's all about Teresa?” I asked.

  “It's something to do with the ivory trade. That's all I know. Now I have to get myself and my family out of here. Thank you for doing this Jason. I know Hannes would have wanted it this way”

  “Okay. I'll take a look at it for you,” I said resignedly.

  After I had pocketed the hard drive, she held my hands and looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Jason” she whispered before moving off in a hurry.

  I walked back out into the sunlight of the courtyard to see her busily talking to her sons and friends. These were not the rantings of a mad woman. She was clearly alarmed. Time to get out of here Green. Fucking hell. I left the courtyard and walked into the car park. As I walked, I was once again aware of the two men standing near the pick-up truck to my left. They hadn't moved in all the time I had been there and stood in silence trying to appear casual but all the while watching the proceedings carefully. As I left the church premises and crossed the busy road to get to my vehicle I reflected on the strange events of the day. I decided to put it out of my mind until I got back to my lodge and was able to take a look at what was actually on the hard drive. My plan of leaving for Bulawayo would have to wait till the following day. As I took the left turn on to the main road towards the lodge, I noticed one of the men in dark glasses had walked to the exit gate of the church. He stood there watching my vehicle while smoking a cigarette. I glanced back through the rear-view mirror to see him casually flick the butt into the ditch as I drove away.

  Chapter Three: Messages from the Dead

  TEN MINUTES LATER I arrived and parked at the lodge in the warm afternoon sun. Feeling puzzled and intrigued I flipped open my laptop on the teak desk and plugged in the hard drive from Teresa Kriel. I was not surprised at all to find the data was password protected. Fuck. What now? I started with the obvious family names, birth dates and similar. No luck. I continued for fifteen minutes idly inputting various familiar words and terms all to no avail. Eventually I stood up, grabbed a beer from the mini bar and walked to the sliding doors of my room to look out into the garden. As I stood there smoking, I watched a family of African Weaver Birds tending to their nest in a nearby palm tree. My mind went back to that terrible ill-fated mission in Mozambique with my late friend Hannes. A few password ideas popped into my mind and I headed back to my computer to give them a try. 'Catandica' no luck. 'Mozambique' nothing. 'Selous Scouts'. Password incorrect. With a deep sigh I sat back in my chair and turned to look at the garden once again. Dark storm clouds were gathering beyond the green hills in the distance. I took a deep draw of the beer as I watched the male Weaver Bird arrive at his nest with a thin strand of palm frond. What password would you use Hannes? An idea came to me suddenly and I leant forward and typed in the words 'Pamwe Chete' the motto of our unit in the army. Instantly the screen changed and in front of me were one hundred and eighty-six separate document and video files.

  “Hannes, you fucking beauty” I said under my breath.

  I was in. I put the beer to one side and started looking at th
e files individually from the top down. To say the information was 'hot' was an understatement. It appeared to be the culmination of a three-year investigation conducted by Hannes into the illegal poaching of elephants in the Lower Zambezi and the subsequent export of raw ivory both through Harare Airport and through the Forbes border post in the city of Mutare on the Mozambique border. Each document contained names, dates, photographs, and numbered shipments of raw ivory. The amount of detailed information in each file was staggering and I realised quickly that I would need many hours, if not days to take it all in. I perused each document quickly so as not to get bogged down by too much detail. The information appeared to document the methods and locations used by the actual poachers, followed by the trail and transportation of the raw ivory to either Harare or Beira in Mozambique. Included were names, phone numbers and addresses of those supposedly involved from the lowly paid individuals at the bottom end of the organization right up to high ranking government officials and the companies and individuals at the top in China. I sat back in my chair and took a sip of beer as I stared at the screen. What did you get yourself into here Hannes? This is a fucking can of worms if I ever saw one.

  The documents went on to describe the packing of the ivory in factories in Beira and the methods used to conceal it, along with the procedure for bribes at the port of Beira to enable the containers that held the shipments to be loaded without discovery on to ships to the Far East. Feeling overwhelmed I skipped the bulk of the documents that Hannes had so methodically compiled and clicked on the last one at the bottom of the list. The document was titled 'Report to The World Wildlife Fund Annual Forum on the organized poaching of Elephants in the Zambezi Valley and subsequent illegal export of ivory to the Far East by Mr Johannes Kriel. Geneva, Switzerland.' The date of the report which was to be presented in person was June that year. In three months’ time. My friend had toiled for three years to make that presentation and his dream had been violently and abruptly halted by his murder. His life's work had been stolen from him. His wife Teresa was right.

  My mind went back to the two individuals I had seen at the memorial that morning. There was no doubt in my mind they were after the hard drive and the information held on it. I was sitting on a very valuable and dangerous piece of property. I finished my beer and took the hard drive and my laptop to the car. I placed both under the front seat and headed out to find a replacement hard drive. I would set it up with random password protected files and use it as a dummy in case of a visit from the two men. The drive to the shopping centre took fifteen minutes and I was careful to keep an eye on my rear-view mirror in case I was being followed. I bought a similar hard drive and headed back to the lodge again watching for any vehicle that might be following. Thankfully, I saw nothing and I went straight to my room to continue studying the files on the original hard drive. Using the password, I decided to take a look at one of the first files titled 'Lower Zambezi Operation’. I spent the next hour poring over the document which was incredibly detailed and long. It primarily described a particularly ruthless individual by the name of Dixon Mayuni who was based on the Zambian side of the lower Zambezi near the mouth of the Kafue River. Hannes had described him as playing a major role in the poaching on the Zimbabwe side of the river. His role was the supply of cyanide, guns and ammunition to a team of poachers that he would bring across the river once a week to carry out their activities. The drop off would happen every Friday night without fail. The practice of using cyanide for elephant poaching was relatively new, silent and especially cruel. The poachers would travel inland by night to remote watering holes and contaminate the water with the deadly white powder. Any animal who drank from that particular source was condemned to a horrendous and agonizing death. Hannes went on to intimate that not only elephants were affected but many other buffalo, buck and big cats as well. The slaughter did not end there either. as the carcasses of the dead animals were then eaten by scavengers such as Hyenas and African Vultures. They too would be poisoned and suffer a slow and painful death and the ecosystem permanently damaged.

  Three days after poisoning the pool the poachers would return with Mr Mayuni to harvest the spoils. The tusks were indiscriminately hacked from the skulls of the dead animals with axes. Any other carrion of value such as Lion or Leopard was also carried back across the river for processing. The flesh would be boiled off the carcasses in great steel vats on bush fires to produce clean bones which have a high value in Chinese medicine. Although Hannes had documented the operation with cold accuracy and precision there was no escaping the fact that it made sickening reading. Dixon Mayuni , a Zimbabwean by birth , was an albino with a fearsome reputation on both the Zimbabwean and Zambian side of the border. Hannes had documented two cases of first degree murder he was wanted in connection with in Zimbabwe. He had fled to Zambia four years previously but had continued his activities and poaching excursions from his bush camp near the Kafue River. According to the document he was both loathed and feared by those he employed. There were four photographs, taken from a distance, of the man himself. Dressed in faded camouflage the man was tall and thin. He wore a wide brimmed bush hat to protect his pale skin from the scorching sun of the Zambezi Valley. The photographs showed him with a group of men walking through the African bush carrying AK47 rifles. Although clearly taken with a zoom lens, Dixon Mayuni was pictured turning back to look at the camera as he walked. His thin pale white face clearly different from his dark-skinned compatriots. The document ended with a chilling note from Hannes. 'I am fully aware that Mr Mayuni , through his network , has first-hand knowledge of this investigation and my activities in the Zambezi Valley. In the past three years I have received more death threats than I can count and sincerely hope that after my report is made in Geneva Interpol will step in to deal with this criminal even if he is on the bottom rungs of this ladder of evil. He and all the others above him mentioned in this report, must be made to answer for their crimes. I took a deep breath and sat back in my chair as I took it all in. Jesus Christ Hannes. You went and got yourself killed, didn't you? I stood up, grabbed another beer and went to stand at the sliding doors once again. I watched the Weaver birds in the fading afternoon light as I drank. My mind was spinning with what I had read. There was no doubt I was in real danger simply because I had possession of the files on the hard drive. Powerful people wanted that information and it was clear they would stop at nothing to get it. One thing was certain. I would make sure that Hannes' report would be delivered and presented to the Word Wildlife Fund Forum in Geneva later that year. It would be the least I could do for my old friend.

  With my mind made up I returned to the desk and plugged in the replacement hard drive. From my laptop I downloaded and copied a few hundred random files from the internet. The process took me half an hour and once done I installed password protection on the whole lot of them. I had no doubt that should the goons get their hands on the hard drive they would spend some time trying to hack it and would be bitterly disappointed to find I had duped them.

  Finished, I sat back and unplugged it from my laptop. Probably won’t happen, Green, but is a good precaution anyway. The sun had set and beyond the sliding doors the lush tropical garden was cloaked in darkness. I pocketed the original hard drive and locked my room leaving both my laptop and the dummy hard drive on the teak desk. I made my way to the parked vehicle down the tastefully lit garden path. The evening was pleasantly cool and out in the distance, I heard the familiar, cooing sound of the Fiery Necked Nightjar. The vehicle was in darkness and I stepped unseen to the rear and opened the compartment that housed the spare wheel. I placed the hard drive safely within it and returned to my room.

  There were only a few other guests and they were dining near the pool. I left my room as I had before and walked to find a table nearby for dinner. The prime Zimbabwean fillet steak was washed down with several glasses of good South African red wine. Afterwards I sat back and took in the African night as I drank coffee. The sound of the cicadas ble
nded with the croak of a nearby frog and the Nightjar. You keep the hard drive safe and you can continue your trip Green. It's unlikely they will know where it is or who you are. Should be fine. Half an hour later I made my way back to my room to find it exactly as I had left it. After a shower I locked the sliding door from the inside and drew the long curtains closed. I briefly checked my emails and the news on the internet before turning on the television and lying down on the bed. As I flicked through the channels my mind went to the goons from the memorial and how I had seen them watch me drive away in the rear-view mirror. I dropped the remote on the crisp white duvet and stared at the replacement hard drive on the teak desk. “Better do something” I said under my breath. “Just in case.”

  Chapter Four: The Visitors

  THEY ARRIVED AT 2.00AM. I was woken by the sound of a key being quietly put into the lock of the sliding doors. I stayed in my position on the bed pretending to be asleep, but I heard the quiet whisper of the sliding door being opened. Before retiring I had moved my laptop from the teak desk to the dressing table near the bed. I had left the dummy hard drive on the desk in full view of anyone who came in. Out of the corner of my left eye I watched as the curtains parted in the half light. Both men stepped inside silently before turning on pencil light torches. Keeping the beams away from the bed they scanned the room for what they were seeking. Lying still I moved my right hand under the duvet to find the handle of the wheel spanner I had removed from the Land Cruiser. I found it immediately and gripped it tight. Both men silently crossed the floor towards the desk where they had clearly seen the hard drive and other various cables. One of the men stopped at the desk and began to gather up the cables and hard drive while the other made his way quietly around the foot of the bed and towards the dressing table to my right. I was quite happy for them to have the dummy hard drive but there was no way they would get it without a fight. The two men were now separated by a few metres and this presented a problem for when I would attack. There was no doubt the man nearest me was after my laptop. The man to my right stooped down and leaned across to lift the laptop. It was as if he was trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. I leapt from the bed suddenly with the wheel spanner still in my right hand. With my left hand I grabbed the stooping man by the short dreadlocks on the back of his head and smashed his face down on to the heavy teak dressing table. The sound of the impact was a heavy thud with a squelch to finish. I knew I had broken his nose. It was completely unexpected and his scream faded as he lost consciousness and fell to the floor in a heap. I turned to take the second man with the hard drive but the torch he carried blinded me temporarily before I saw the barrel of the Tokarev pistol pointed at my face.