by Paul Eksteen
She knew her father would love to attend a rugby game at Loftus Versfeld in Pretoria, and the Super 14 final was scheduled for that same weekend. Now it was up to the Bulls to make the final, then they could all go and watch the game at Loftus!
Her dad had given her some exciting news when dropping her off. They would be going away overseas for the winter holidays, the week after the goat auction.
Her father did not tell her where they were going, but she was sure that they were not going to Namibia.
She had been to Namibia before, but as her dad asked her for her passport to arrange for a visa, she knew they were going to a different destination. One doesn’t need a visa for Namibia.
And, Karlien and Corlea would be going with them!
Danielle was very excited. She knew there was something serious going on between her dad and Tannie Karlien, and she knew by the look on her dad’s face that he liked Tannie Karlien a lot.
For as long as she could remember, Danielle had noticed women noticing her father. And when they failed to get his attention, they tried to reach him through her. There was the waitress at Chan’s Chinese takeaway, who took Danielle into the restroom and showed her how to tie her hair into a braid. The assistant at Edgars who helped Danielle ‘in secret’ to try on her first bra. But their attentions would only send her father away brooding. He would shy away and abruptly bundle her into the car, to head for home and safety.
But with Tannie Karlien it was different.
He smiled much more lately, and even whistled from time to time. He also started painting other things instead of only his silly old wind pumps.
She had tried to prise the destination out of him, but he only winked and smiled at her. “It is a surprise,” he had said.
Maybe he planned on asking Tannie Karlien the Big Question on the trip as well. She hoped he did. There were certain things which she could not discuss with her dad, and she had already confided in Tannie Karlien.
She had moved to the hostel in the beginning of the year, when she started secondary school, to be closer to her friends. Living on a farm outside town had its difficulties. She played hockey and did a lot of other school activities, and her dad was not always around to drive her. She enjoyed the new freedom, but missed her two spaniels though.
When she told her father of her decision after Christmas, he was very upset, but gave in after a week of sulking. He also realised that it would be the best for her.
And her best friend, Dirkie, was also in the hostel and would look after her. Poor Dirkie. When she had seen him the previous day, he had looked very miserable. It was her turn now to look after him.
She was lying on the bed with closed eyes and a smile on her face when she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 23
Papillon — Monday, 30 March
I was sitting in my office, having a cup of coffee with Kwinzee. I felt good about my weekend away, and it looked like the rest had done Kwinzee good as well.
I never suspected anything until I saw the big smile on his face.
“What’s up Kwinz? I know you well, you scoundrel. What were you up to this weekend?”
“I went to Venda, DC. But I also went to Indermark. The immediate threat has been eliminated.”
I looked at Kwinzee with disbelief in my eyes. “Okay, Kwinz. Give me the details.”
This was crazy. He was still wincing from pain due to his broken ribs from time to time, but like Dirkie, decided to chop the head off the snake. Obviously, he was more successful than Dirkie in his endeavours.
As Kwinzee filled me in with the details, I sat in my chair, shaking my head in disbelief. “Please tell me that I did not teach you all these things, Kwinz,” I exclaimed.
He sat back, smiling. “You owe me big time, DC!”
And I was worried about Dirkie! “Thanks, Kwinz. I hope you didn’t tell Lebo about your activities.”
“I told her that I had to finish a project at the office and that I would join her on Sunday. You know that she is not stupid, but she knows better than to ask questions.”
“Thanks, Kwinz. I will settle the bill immediately. Should I pay into your shares account again?”
I’ve paid Kwinzee a handsome amount every time I had asked for his help, but this time I was going to pay him double. The SSA was not sponsoring this job, as they did with my previous contracts, so I will be sponsoring it from my own reserves in Malta. No problem. At least we got rid of one danger.
I was still deep in thought about what Kwinzee had told me, when the panel of my mobile phone lit up. An SMS.
2030032
Shit!
Nic wanted to see me tonight. In Pretoria.
It must be very urgent.
When I spoke to Nic last week he asked me to give him a week’s time, but I thought I had more time to sort out some work at the office.
Things were happening fast now. Maybe for the better. Kwinzee had sorted out the farm murderers, now Nic and I had to sort out Lillynn and her doctor.
***
Pachas Restaurant, Hazelwood
When I walked into Pachas at a quarter to eight, Nic was already standing outside smoking, waiting for me.
It was the first time I had seen him smoke. This must be serious.
We were barely seated, when he started off. “Tom, this thing is a serious fuck-up. I’ve spent the whole morning in meetings about Lillynn and her doctor. She was called in this afternoon and suspended. She is not a happy girl at this moment.”
He continued. “She is more involved than we realised. I traced calls from her to a Cuban doctor in Bloemfontein. I also traced calls between her and an SSA agent.”
Shit. Nic had been busy the last week! Nic was taking a deep sip of his beer which had just arrived. I was still trying to sort through the data.
“What about the farm murder, Nic? Who appointed the Zimbos?”
Nic looked at me with a frown on his face.
“I’m not sure about that one, Tom. It could have been Lillynn. It could be the doctor. It could even be the SSA agent.”
I could understand the doctor wanting to revenge his father’s death. But what was wrong with this Lillynn bitch? I had to discard her from the equation. She had no reason to be involved.
“From what Selina told us, she was contacted by a man. It could have been either the doctor or the SSA agent. But the information must have come from Lillynn. The doctor couldn’t have planted the bomb. That must have been the SSA agent,” I tried.
“I don’t think you are far wrong, Tom,” Nic replied. “But this Lillynn bothers me. She is not going to behave now that she has been suspended.”
“You want to get rid of Lillynn?” I asked. “I could have saved you a lot of time and money two weeks ago.”
“No, Tom. Not Lillynn.”
“The doctor?”
“No again. This is getting complicated. Let me explain. I might have a quick solution to more than one problem.”
Nic signalled to the waitress. “Two more beers, please.” And then carried on.
“Let me start with something that happened at the end of last year. As you know, they hold the Nedbank Golf Challenge every year at Sun City at the Gary Player Country Club. It is rated as one of the longest and most exhausting golf courses in the world.”
I could see this was going to take a lot of time. Luckily, I was sleeping over in Pretoria tonight.
“My niece works for Nedbank Corporate and is involved with the golf tournament every year.
“Her parents died when she was four years old, and she moved in with us and grew up as my little sister.
“She attended the Golf Challenge last year and stayed a few days after the tournament, with fellow workers to sort everything out. There is a social tournament the week after the Challenge, for fans or non-professional golfers to try their hand in the same conditions as the pros played the week before.
“Two weeks after the tournament, she received a letter at the off
ice. The letter contained intimate photos of her and her boss as well as bank details where the sum of one hundred thousand rand needed to be deposited. She spoke to her boss and they decided to deposit the money and hoped that that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. Her boss was contacted a month ago for another hundred thousand rand. That was when she decided to come to me.”
The waitress arrived with the beers, and Nic paused. I didn’t like what I was hearing. I had sorted out Nic’s personal vendetta with the devil worshipper. I was not going to keep on sorting out his family problems. He should be professional enough to realise that. It was difficult enough to lead two lives. I did not need Nic to complicate it even further.
“No, Nic. This is just going too far. I am not going to handle all your family affairs,” I exclaimed.
“Just let me finish, Tom,” he said, and took a sip of his fresh draft. I was still on my first beer.
“I traced the name and bank account of the person blackmailing her. I actually know the guy. I actually know him very well. At the SSA, he is known as Agent One Hundred and Five.”
I was employed as Agent Ninety-Eight, fifteen years ago. At that stage it was a big personal joke, as I had missed being Agent Ninety-Nine, like in the TV series, by one.
“He did not come from any special unit like you. To tell you the truth, he only did one year of National Service with the SADF in the early 1990s, after conscription was reduced from two years to one year.
“He still had to pass the six months at the training academy, which he did. It sounds like his dad was big into racehorses in the East Rand and had connections higher up at the Agency.”
“Does he have a name?” I enquired.
Nic seemed to hesitate. “He does,” he got out at last.
“His file is the one directly after yours. Agents Ninety-Nine to One Hundred and Four are not operable any more.”
The waitress arrived for our order, and we both ordered the oryx schnitzel. The schnitzel was a house specialty with red wine, bacon, and mushroom sauce. “And two more draughts, please,” Nic added.
He waited until the beers arrived, before saying anything further. He finished his second draft in the meantime, while I was only halfway through mine.
My mind was trying to process all the data it had received in the last thirty minutes. Things were happening. And happening fast. We would have to move in now to end the chaos, before someone else got injured or killed.
“Marc Robinson. Do you know him?” Nic enquired as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.
I’d never heard the name before. He was obviously a few years younger than I, but the consultants working for the Agency never got the opportunity to meet each other anyway.
“We need someone to sacrifice in your place, Tom.”
I was in the process of taking a sip of my beer and got some in my lungs. I went into a coughing fit, with tears streaming out of my eyes. Whoa! What was this?
“Thanks, Nic, I appreciate that,” I sarcastically whispered across the table, when most of the beer was cleared from my chest.
“I am serious, Tom. This Marc guy took over a very successful die-casting business in the East Rand from his dad. He does work for us from time to time, and he blackmailed a long list of people on the side. He felt that making money was his divine right. Easy money. He is spoilt rotten, with a chip on his shoulder. A chip the size of a baobab tree.
“He is one of those guys with a lousy circuit breaker in his head. They trip easily, and once they do, they become completely irrational. He should never have been selected to work for us. It is time to end it.”
Nic stopped me before I could complain again.
“Let me finish, Tom. This doctor wants you dead. And the fact that he made a mistake with Kwinzee is not going to stop him. He might even go for your family. I will arrange for you to be killed.”
“By whom? This Marc guy?” I was not getting a good feeling about this.
“Fuck, Tom. Shut up and listen!” Nic was getting impatient with me. Must be the three beers.
“There is nothing you can do on your own because this is a total and complete and comprehensive fuck-up.”
“To fire someone working for a government institution is not so easy any more. In the old days, this Marc guy would have been gone with the blink of an eye. Like Agents Ninety-Nine through to One Hundred and Four. But, unfortunately, he has survived until now.”
“So, you’ve got a plan?” I enquired.
“Yes, Tom. And both you and Marc are part thereof. To tell you the truth, I’ve already discussed this with my superiors this morning. It is a difficult decision, as we struggle to get good material to turn into agents nowadays. In the old days we could select from the SADF. Now the SANDF would be the last place we would look for conscripts.”
I started saying something, but Nic held up his hand.
“It is better this way, Tom. I had to stop Marc from trying to kill you or your family. Hear me out.”
Our oryx schnitzels arrived, and before Nic could order more beers, I stopped him. “Slowly, Nic. I would prefer to be sober when listening to your plan for my demise.”
We ate in silence. The oryx was as good as ever, but I barely tasted it. What had Nic planned for me? I was sure it was not going to be something I was going to like. And it was already approved by his superiors. Shit!
It took Nic almost an hour to lay out his plan where after he stood up and left the restaurant.
I stayed behind and ordered a double espresso. I needed the caffeine now more than ever..
Nic’s last words were milling in my head. “Inevitable. No agent lasts forever. Agents are volunteers, they chose their own road. And when they drift off the road, they burn.”
How loyal was Nic to me? Was the paymaster ever loyal to his agents? How far could I trust him? The questions were milling through my head. It was bothering me like a stone in my shoe.
***
OR Tambo International Airport
The Airbus lifted off from the airport’s western runway. The aircraft climbed steeply for five minutes, and then turned slightly left, heading north.
The journalist from London sat rigid in her seat. She thought she was returning to civilisation. She could not tell when last she felt so relieved to return to her home country. She thought of the story she had written:
There is the appearance of war and hostility in the Rainbow Nation of Southern Africa.
There are no military convoys or roadblocks. But there are armed men guarding the politicians.
There are people being murdered every day, and there is talk of war. But if there is combat, your correspondent has not found it.
I am unsure about the reality of conflict. I have reported from many of the world’s war zones.
But here are no battle lines.
No visible enemy.
But he surely exists.
He is definitely not a figment of the imagination.
For two weeks I have chased shadows. I saw humble people, I saw poor people, and I saw confused people.
This is a unique country, and I will definitely be back to learn more about its struggle.
A struggle which is not yet over.
CHAPTER 24
Boksburg — Tuesday, 31 March
Chicco was seated in the rear corner of the Il Gusto Ristorante in the North Rand Key Largo Centre. He had a lunch meeting set up with Dino Lupo, for one o’clock.
He was a little early and used his time to check out the restaurant. It was his first time there, and he was impressed by the neat layout of the tables with their black tablecloths, and the waiters dressed in black pants and brown shirts with their black berets. It didn’t look militaristic, but it very subtly ignited a patriotic flame inside him.
He remembered the history lessons taught to him by his grandfather when he was a little boy. Mussolini’s soldiers were called the blackshirts in the Second World War. When they joined up with Hitler, after Mussolini was rescued by
German paratroopers, many of them started wearing the brown shirts of the German Sturmabteiling, as they were cut off from rations in the south.
The restaurant was Dino’s choice, and Chicco was impressed. He preferred the Italian Club in Nigel, and it was, ninety per cent of the time, his fallback option, but today he didn’t want the clan to see him and Dino together. The clan enjoyed spreading rumours, and Mario specifically instructed him to keep this matter under the radar.
He was sipping on a small glass of grappa, and paging through the menu. He was impressed with the wines on offer and also with the pizza, pasta and meat specialties. It was going to be very difficult to make a choice as to what to eat today.
He was startled when Dino appeared at his side out of the blue. Shit, was this guy a ghost? He didn’t even see him enter the restaurant. No wonder they call him the wolf. He stood up, and they kissed each other’s cheeks.
“Come stai?” he asked Dino.
“Sto bene grazie, e tu?”
“Non mi posso lamentare. But let’s get a drink and some antipasto before we talk business.”
Chicco signalled for a waiter and Dino ordered some of the house specialties.
After the waiter had left, Chicco continued. “I mentioned to you that the books are open. It is a very serious situation. Mario is not happy.”
“I understood from our earlier conversation that you want me to break an egg,” Dino replied.
“Yes. There is this strunzo who tried to shakedown Mario. I told you about him two weeks ago. Now I’ve got a name.”
“Fuggedaboutit! You know I’ve always wanted to earn my button. I will not let you down.”
“The jamook lives in Springs. Follow him and take care of him. Buon’ anima.”
“This strunzo, you want me to do a message job?”
“No. Just whack this fuckin’ mortadella. And whack him soon. Mario is running out of patience. And make sure there are no witnesses.”