by Dan Fletcher
“Yes Commander?” the man sounded alert despite the lateness of the hour. “Sergeant Wangari here.”
At forty-six years of age Wangari was the oldest of the sixteen GSU officers living in the barracks outside Abasi’s mansion. A veteran who had proved himself many times over, his main role now was administrative, organising the other officers’ rota and manning the phone. But he remained fit as a fiddle and loved a good skirmish.
Maliki thought about Wangari’s experience and made the decision, “Sergeant, get a troop of six officers together, including yourself, I want you fully kitted out and over at headquarters within the next twenty minutes. Bring night scopes and torches.”
“Is there anything else sir?”
“No, that’s it,” Maliki imagined him pen poised above a notepad taking notes. He thought of something else as he was about to hang up, “Just make sure that the vehicles have a full tank of gas. I don’t know how far we’ll be going.”
Guessing that Koinet was being held in the Maasai Mara, or somewhere nearby, he expected it to be a long drive. Feeling even more pleased with himself he settled back into the chair for the wait. The tide had turned and things were starting to go his way. Maliki massaged his cheek and smiled. The journey north would end with the tragic death of Captain Nbeke, Koinet and any other witnesses that were unlucky enough to be around.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
GSU Headquarters, Nairobi
August 20th, 1996
The rational part of his brain told him that this couldn’t be happening. The scene before him was so surreal it was difficult to comprehend.
Lembui detached the copper clip from Gupta’s genitals and threw it to one side. Then a rattling noise filled the room as he unchained his legs and arms. As the final restraint from the makeshift torture device was removed Gupta’s burnt corpse collapsed to the floor.
His eyes closed and the sound started to fade. David forced them open and shook his aching head, the worst thing he could do now was pass out. He wasn’t sure whether the numbness or the fact that the blood had stopped flowing from his shoulder was a good sign or not. One of his ribs had been busted by Lembui’s boot and was cutting into his lung. It hurt every time he drew breath. By comparison his missing tooth and his broken nose seemed cosmetic. Although thinking about it the gum would probably need a couple of stitches, he could already feel swelling around the broken root. David spat to get rid of the metallic taste in his mouth.
Lembui hoisted Gupta over his shoulder in a ghoulish fireman’s lift and turned to David. His face cracked into a wide grin, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”
Echoes of his laughter still booming off the walls the smile vanished and the one hundred yard stare returned. After glaring at him for a few seconds Lembui nodded to himself and then headed out of the door. His footsteps gradually got fainter and then disappeared off into the distance.
Blocking out the pain he concentrated on taking deep breaths and regaining his strength. With each piercing intake he felt a little better and flexed his arms and legs to improve the circulation. His shoulder was numb and cold but there was nothing he could do about it for now. The punch that broke his nose and sent him over backwards had weakened the wooden joints. When David wriggled the chair wobbled.
He rocked the chair back and forth, praying that it didn’t fall forward. David experienced a moment of weightlessness before he tipped backwards. Gravity took over and he accelerated towards the floor, David tilted his head forward to protect it, chin on his chest.
His bound arms took most of the impact, which in turn was transferred to the slats on the back of the chair. There was a satisfying crack as one of them snapped. David threw himself onto his side and pulled with his arms. A dagger of pain went through his shoulder and nothing much seemed to happen but then the wood creaked. He tugged again, this time kicking out with his legs and pressing hard against the chair with his back.
The wood groaned, trying to resist the pressure that he was exerting on it. David’s whole body trembled with effort. Finally there was a cracking sound as the frame gave way and the back of the seat tore from its base. His handcuffed arms came free of the chair. He kept kicking until there was nothing left but the two wooden legs taped to his calves.
David rolled away from the debris onto his back and sat up. Pulling one leg under him David threw his good shoulder forward and transferred his weight so that he was on his knees. After taking a few deep breaths he got to his feet. Feeling unsteady and more than a little ridiculous with the bits of wood stuck to his legs he walked over to the bucket. Thankfully he could see his battered reflection in the water.
The pail was more than half full. With or without his hands handcuffed behind him David didn’t rate his chances taking on Lembui in a fight. The man was nearly twice his size and way out of his weight class. Squatting over the bucket he felt around for the handle and picked it up. Holding it a few inches off the floor between his legs he edged slowly towards the door in a crab-like shuffle. Careful as he was the precious liquid sloshed about and David swore as some of it spilled over his combats.
Lembui could return at any moment so he hurriedly tipped the water over the floor, making sure that it reached the door. After taking a quick look down the corridor David took the empty pail back to where he had found it. The jump leads were lying on the floor next to the wire bedframe. David dragged the first one over towards the puddle near the door but it wouldn’t reach. He noticed there was some slack on the cable between the trolley housing the control panel and the wall. Facing away from it he grabbed the handle and wheeled the metal gurney towards the door. The damn thing nearly toppled over when the cable reached its limit and snapped tight.
Thankfully the distance travelled by the trolley was enough and with the help of his toes David soon had the jump leads in position. He turned his attention to the control panel, which seemed simple enough. There was a dial to adjust the voltage and a switch to turn on the power. Already at the top end of the red line with the output set at 300 milliamps all he had to do was flip the little chrome lever. He walked over to the door and used his forehead to turn off the light. Treading carefully through the semi-darkness David stepped over the cables and slowly edged his way around to the back of the device.
He didn’t have to wait long. A couple of minutes later he heard Lembui coming down the corridor, whistling out of tune. Hoping that he was deep enough inside the room to be hidden David’s fingers trembled on the switch.
“What the hell?”
For one dreadful moment David thought that he might not come in. Lembui hesitated in the doorway his shoulders practically touching the frame. Then he stepped inside and reached for the light switch.
David threw the lever and the room lit up in a blaze of blue arcs. Fingers of electricity reached up from the puddle and enveloped Lembui. The huge bodyguard was frozen to the spot. Juddering and vibrating as the sparks flew off him. Lembui fell forward onto the floor like a felled tree and started to convulse. David kept his hand on the switch. He waited a full thirty seconds after Abasi’s henchman stopped moving before cutting the power. A blue-white imprint of Lembui’s death throws on his retina was all that remained as the room descended into darkness.
Lembui was motionless for another minute before David deemed it safe enough to leave cover and walk towards the door. As he got closer the smell of burnt hair and flesh got a hundred times worse. Fighting the urge to retch he knelt down next to the Mike Tyson lookalike. Suddenly there was movement and David’s heart skipped a beat as Lembui’s hand brushed up against his leg. He started breathing again when he realised that it was just a death spasm.
The bunch of keys was attached to Lembui’s trousers. He tried to prise the ring open and thread it through the loop but the blunt end of the metal kept catching. David spent nearly a minute fumbling behind his back before the key ring came free. Choosing the smallest he managed to get the key into the lock of the handcuffs but couldn’t turn
his hand far enough to unlock it. When he attempted to adjust his grip the bunch fell noisily to the floor.
David scrabbled around on his haunches. Worrying more with every resounding heartbeat that he would be discovered.
“Got you!” muttered David triumphantly when his trembling fingers bumped into them. The keys were lodged next to Lembui’s thigh.
Another nerve-racking minute later and one of the cuffs finally came open. David briefly massaged his wrist to help return the circulation and then opened the other lock. He shoved the keys and the handcuffs into the thigh pocket of his combats thinking that they might come in handy. The bleeding red raw skin around his wrists the least of his worries. Tentatively he touched his nose and winced, it was swollen to double its normal size.
The pain in his chest seemed to get worse with every breath he took. David turned on the light so that he could see properly and opened the buttons on his bloodied shirt. Peeling it back carefully to reveal the stab wound. There was a small amount of seepage, a mixture of blood and puss, but it didn’t look that bad. A quick scan of the room revealed there was nothing to bandage it with. Slipping the shirt over his bad shoulder hurt like hell, blood started to flow from the puncture mark as he tore it into strips. He pulled the material as tightly as he could, using his teeth to hold onto one end and tie it. David eyed his handiwork. Messy, but it would have to do until he could get some proper medical attention.
His first priority was to put some distance between himself and the Commander’s chamber of horrors. David estimated that around ten minutes must have passed since Abasi left the basement and he needed to get moving. But there was something that he wanted.
Bending over he took hold of Lembui’s shoulder with one hand and his hip with the other. Heaving and leaning back it took David’s combined weight and strength to roll him over. Lembui’s teeth were bared and clamped shut in a strange grimace, blood dripping from the gaps between them. Then he noticed the small lump of pink muscle laying next the dead bodyguard’s football size head. It took his brain a couple of seconds to register that it was Lembui’s tongue.
David felt the bile rise in his throat, he looked away and forced himself to concentrate. Reaching into Lembui’s jacket he unclipped the holster und pulled out the pistol. He checked the action and made sure that the magazine was full.
Glocks were standard issue in the KWS and David’s training had involved spending hours on the firing range practicing with his. A year after being in the bush he changed to the heavier 9mm Browning as ammunition was easier to come by. The older British model was more prone to jamming if it wasn’t kept clean but David preferred the increased weight. Nevertheless the Glock was more than capable of doing the job and held 17 rounds, four more than the Browning. Safety off David held the dead man’s weapon out in front of him and stepped over Lembui’s body.
Pulse racing and his injuries forgotten, he paused for a second in the doorway. Adrenalin heightened his senses. He checked to make sure that the coast was clear before slipping out into the corridor. David broke into a trot and padded towards the foot of the stairs. There were another three rooms leading off the wide passageway but only one of the doors was open. The set-up looked identical to the room he had just come from. David guessed that the other two were no different.
He took the steps at a crouch, arms extended, gun pointing at the crack of light coming through the open door. As he reached for the handle David froze, stopped in his tracks by a clanging noise from the other side. Then there was another, softer, duller this time.
“Please!” he heard a faint voice. “I don’t want to die in here.”
The man drifted off into incoherent mumbling and then stopped. Realising that it must be someone trapped in one of the other cells David pushed the door open slowly and winced. Reaching out caused the cracked bone to jab into the wall of his lung. Holding back the urge to shout out he retracted his arm and took a few painful breaths to recover. It sounded like he was sucking on a straw as the air whistled through the gap between his teeth.
He surveyed the twelve-foot wide anti-chamber and guessed this was where Lembui had dealt him the kick that broke his rib. There were six single steel doors on each side of the room and a double set made of solid oak dead ahead. Reinforced with three horizontal steel braces painted black. Standing next to them was a flimsy looking wooden desk boasting a telephone, two drawers and a chair. Camouflage raincoats hung from a row of pegs beneath the only window, it was barely two feet square and iron bars ensured that nobody could escape.
Viewing hatches at the top and longer thinner slots at the bottom for passing food identified the metal doors for what they were. What must have been David’s was the only cell open, the rest looked securely shut.
David wondered what the hell he was doing as he dug into his pocket for Lembui’s keys. His legs wanted him to run, get out of there as quickly as possible. He fished them out and shook his head. This was going to take forever. There were twelve identical keys on the ring. Luckily the first six doors weren’t locked and swung open easily. Then he found one that wasn’t.
“Hello,” whispered David as he tried different keys in the lock. “Can you hear me?”
There was no response.
With each key David’s efforts got more frantic until he wasn’t sure whether he had mixed up the order and should start again. Picking a key at random from the loop he shoved it into the lock and twisted his hand. There was a rewarding click as it opened.
He pulled on the handle and light filled the darkened cell to reveal a naked man lying on the floor. His flabby back facing the door.
“Come on, let’s move!”
David glanced towards the entrance before looking back in the cell but there was still no movement. Holding his breath against the stench of urine and vomit he stepped inside the cell and bent over the crumpled form. There didn’t seem to be a part of the man’s body that wasn’t covered in cuts and bruises. David prodded his shoulder gently, fearing the worst.
“No,” the man cried out weakly, covered his head with battered hands. “Leave me alone.”
“It’s OK. I’m not going to hurt you.” David tried to make his voice sound soothing, “We’ve got to hurry!”
The man lowered his arms and twisted his neck towards him, disbelief on his face. By the way he squinted David guessed that the man must normally wear glasses.
“Who are you?” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, “Did Dewitt send you?”
“Trust me, there’s no time for that,” David thought for a second that the name sounded familiar. He held out his hand, “Commander Abasi could be back at any moment.”
Mention of the Commander’s name got a reaction. The prisoner rolled onto his back and reached out with a chubby hand. David took hold and pulled, the strain tearing at his shoulder. A few seconds later they were stood panting and wheezing face to face. The man’s legs buckled suddenly and David almost lost his grip. To his surprise the stranger grunted and pushed himself back up.
He nodded, “I’ll be OK.”
“Follow me,” David led him over to the door and took one of the raincoats down from its peg.
Handing it to him he noticed the scorch marks around the man’s genitals for the first time. The same burnt pattern he had seen on Gupta. David looked up at the man’s moon shaped face with new respect.
He draped the coat gently over the quivering man’s shoulders, “Here put this on.”
“Thanks, whoever you are,” his teeth chattered.
Putting the gun down on the desk David grabbed the other jacket and shrugged it on. Pulling the belt tight to compensate for it being a few sizes too big he picked up the Glock and looked towards the cell doors.
“Shit!” He hadn’t checked all of them.
Thirty seconds later he tried the last one and was grateful to find it empty. Getting out of the facility was going to be difficult enough without bringing along any more baggage. David glanced at the overweigh
t inmate leaning against the desk for support. What was he doing? Neither of them was in any fit state to make a run for it.
“We’ll stick to the shadows.” David tried to sound confident as he made his way back over to the entrance, “Whatever happens, stay close to me and don’t panic. Only run if I tell you to.” The man looked at him but his eyes were glazed over. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” the man shook himself like a wet dog. David was surprised by the strength in the deep voice that answered, “I’m ready, let’s go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
GSU Headquarters, Nairobi
August 20th, 1996
David flicked the switch and the chamber was plunged into darkness. He found the fist sized loop and twisted the wrought iron handle, the clunk as the latch released sounded way too loud. Heart beating noisily David waited a few seconds for any kind of reaction before opening the door a fraction and peeking out.
There were signs of activity in the two-storey building on the other side of the gravel courtyard. Someone inside the frosted glass entrance was moving around, casting shadows. Lights were showing on the first floor and what looked like Abasi’s car was parked out front. Hard for him to be certain with the tinted glass but it appeared empty. On his right a deserted looking single floor block joined the jailhouse with the larger building to form a quadrangle. There was no doorway or entrance, just a row of identical barred windows. David glanced at the other low level building to his left and began to wonder how the Mercedes had got there. He pushed the door open a bit wider, craning his neck around so that he could see the rest of the square. There was a gap between the buildings wide enough to fit a small truck through.