The Cuban

by Paul Eksteen

  It was just before eight in the morning and time to confirm with the Doctor that all the players were in position. Nic had his SSA agents up and down the road from where the meeting would take place. They would let the yellow Hyundai through, and then block all other traffic.

  They had arranged with SANParks, to close the Wodehouse trail for the day as well. It was Friday, and many visitors would be arriving for a weekend break away. Should there be a car between the two roadblocks, Nic would have to wait for the car to clear the killing area, before taking his shot.

  At five minutes past eight, Nic could see the yellow Hyundai approaching at a casual speed. The car stopped next to the picnic spot and the Doctor got out, looking around nervously.

  Nic had told the Doctor the previous evening where Tom would be lying, and that the Doctor should keep the Hyundai between Tom and himself at all times.

  Nic waited another three minutes and then took careful aim at his target. He took a deep breath and slowly prepped the trigger. As the shot rang out, he could hear the smack of the bullet five hundred metres away.

  ‘Tom’ staggered to his feet and started falling out of sight. The next moment a faint scream could be heard and a dull thud as ‘Tom’ stumbled off the side of the ridge.

  Nic stood up and removed his ghillie suit. This he placed over his rifle and then climbed down the back of the butte. As he got to the bottom, he called out to Luis who had crawled underneath his car, as instructed earlier. Nic walked the four hundred metres to the picnic spot and assisted Luis in getting up.

  The Doctor was shaking uncontrollably. Together he and Nic walked to the bottom of butte number two, where ‘Tom’ was shot by Nic.

  They could not see ‘Tom’s’ body from the bottom, so they had to get to the top of the butte, to make sure he was indeed dead.

  Together, they climbed the narrow footpath at the back of the butte to the top, the Doctor slipping and sliding with his smooth leather-soled work shoes.

  When they got to the top, they could see where ‘Tom’ had been lying earlier. His rifle was still in position, as was a backpack, five metres behind his shooting position.

  There were smears of blood on some of the rocks. Blood splatters led them to the edge of the cliff, twenty metres from where his rifle was still lying. When they looked down, they could see ‘Tom’s’ body lying at an awkward angle on a ledge sixty metres lower.

  “I think you owe me another fifty thousand rand,” Nic said to the Doctor.

  The Doctor stared at Tom’s’ body for a full two minutes before he turned around. He then walked as if in a haze and stopped at ‘Tom’s’ backpack. He knelt down, opened it and started scratching around inside it. When he found ‘Tom’s’ wallet, he removed it from the backpack and opened it. Inside he found some money, a few credit cards and a driver’s licence.

  He took out the driver’s licence. “You don’t mind if I keep this? He won’t need it any more.” He then threw the wallet back on top of the backpack and stood up. He had a satisfied grin on his face.

  Nic took a .308 shell casing out of his pocket. “Another souvenir?” he enquired.

  As the Doctor took the case from Nic, he said, “I owe you much more than fifty thousand. This was what brought me to Africa. My father would have been pleased.”

  At last, he had gotten his man. He had obtained his goal.

  Tom Allen ‘DC’ Coetzee was dead. Captain Arnaldo Fernandez was avenged.

  It had taken twenty-two years and a son’s nearly lifelong obsession to get it done.

  But now, it was done.

  Finally.

  Now, he could leave this miserable country behind and accept the job offer in Spain.

  The Doctor turned around and started walking towards the trail leading down from the butte.

  As soon as he sensed Nic closing in behind him, he removed a hunting knife from a sheath underneath his shirt, where he had it hidden from view.

  “Sorry, I almost forgot,” he said to Nic as he turned around and plunged the knife all the way to the hilt into an unsuspecting Nic’s torso.

  ***

  I was sitting in the cave at the bottom of the butte, hiding from view of the footpath, thinking about what happened in the last fifteen minutes.

  After I radioed Nic that I was in place, the games began. Nic fired his shot into a piece of sandstone a few metres behind me, whereafter I staggered into view of the Doctor and did my theatrical stumble to the position where I had left Marc earlier. I rolled Marc down the cliff with an accompanying scream.

  I then grabbed the tarpaulin, and scrambled down the cliff to hide away, out of sight, in the cave at the bottom.

  The SSA guys would collect Marc’s body and have it cremated in Bethlehem. One of the agents would drive Marc’s Porsche back to Gauteng, where the car and his ashes would be handed over to his widow for a quiet funeral.

  He had died in service of his country on an international mission.

  I was still deep in thought when suddenly I heard a terrifying scream from the top.

  What the fuck was happening?

  I was still deciding on what to do, when the Doctor raced past me on the footpath. There was no sign of Nic following.

  Shit, I knew this had been just too easy. I scrambled to the top of the butte to find Nic huddled up in a pool of blood. He was still breathing, but there was blood and froth on his lips. Not a good sign. As I kneeled next to him, I sensed the last of his life flowing out of him. His eyes glazed over and he lay dead still.

  I moved to the edge of the butte where Marc’s rifle was still lying. From here I could see the Doctor running towards his car. He was thirty metres away from it. There was not much time.

  I dropped down behind Marc’s gun and cycled the bolt. The gun was loaded, resulting in a round being ejected from the chamber and another being fed from the magazine.

  As the Doctor reached the back of his car, the crosshairs of the riflescope found his upper body. I could feel a slight breeze from left and behind me, and I automatically compensated. As I moved the crosshairs to zero in on the Doctor’s left shoulder blade, I squeezed the trigger. Less than a second later, through the scope, I saw him going down.

  I left the rifle in place and scrambled back to retrieve my rucksack. “Sorry Nic,” I thought as I raced past his body and down the butte. This time it was my turn to make sure my target was dead.

  I reached the bottom of the butte and raced down the footpath towards the yellow Hyundai. I didn’t have much time. The SSA agents would be arriving soon to clean up. They were going to shit themselves when they found three bodies instead of one. And two of the three bodies were not planned for.

  I turned away from the Hyundai thirty metres before reaching it and walked a wide circle around it to close in from the rear. I was slightly worried as I did not see the Doctor’s body lying behind the car where I saw it drop after my shot. I called my shot though and was sure the Doctor was dead or at least mortally wounded.

  As I closed in on the car, the Doctor stood up from the front of the car and raised a pistol. I stopped as soon as I saw the movement. The next moment I saw a muzzle flash from the barrel of the gun and something heavy slammed into my chest. I stumbled backwards and dropped flat on my back.

  I struggled to catch my breath as something very heavy was pressing down on my chest. I couldn’t take any deep breaths and started hyperventilating with closed eyes as I went into a claustrophobic fit. As I opened my eyes, I could see the Doctor limping towards me, the barrel of the pistol waving in my direction. The Doctor’s face was contorted. I wasn’t sure whether it was from pain or from fury.

  “Fuck you!” he screamed. “I knew it was a scam. You and your bloody connections. But I will make no mistake.”

  I was stunned. Literally and figuratively. I was still struggling to breathe and was flinching from the pain in my chest. Move or die, I thought, and started crawling around the rear of the car.

  I was scarcely behind the back of
the car when I heard the explosion of another shot. The rear passenger window and the back window of the car exploded, showering me with glass.

  I was still trying to figure out how the fucker had survived my shot, when he reached the rear of the car. He was supporting himself against the trunk with his left arm, and I could see the blood smears from where he pressed his body against the side fender.

  He tried to raise the pistol with one hand, but his hand was shaking too much. He lowered the gun with a painful expression on his face. He knew that he had me cornered. It was just a matter of time.

  I was fumbling for my pistol, but I had to move onto my back to reach it. There was no time for that though. I stayed on my side and pulled myself around the back of the car.

  Another shot went off and I heard the bullet ricochet off the metal of the trunk. Shit! I was moving onto my back and my hand closed on the butt of my pistol.

  Before I could clear it from the holster, the Doctor reached me, and raised his pistol. “You no good piece of crap,” he yelled. “You shot me.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” I had to play for time, to get my gun out of the holster.

  “You’re going to wish you did,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  I could see his finger pressing down on the trigger.

  “A Glock,” I thought. Probably Nic’s.

  “My name is Luis Esteban Fernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

  The next moment a shot went off and the Doctor’s head exploded, showering me with blood and brains.

  What the fuck?

  I got my Sig out of the holster at last and was struggling to get into a seated position, taking shallow breaths to lessen the pain on my chest. The next moment a small dark-haired guy walked up to me. He had a huge revolver in his hand.

  Who the hell was this? I must be dreaming; this was just too bizarre. Another guy that I had to deal with?

  Couldn’t be. He killed the Doctor. The enemy of my enemy was supposed to be a friend of mine. Or something like that.

  “Piacere. You did my piece of work. Buon’ anima, arrivederci.”

  He holstered the revolver in a sheath under his left arm, turned around, and walked away.

  I fell backwards and let out a long breath. Seemed like I had survived another day. Now to get this shit storm sorted out.

  I was supposed to get a lift with Nic back to Clarens. That was not going to happen though. I decided to use the Hyundai to get to the SSA roadblock up the road.

  As I stood up, I saw my driver’s licence lying on the ground behind the Hyundai. The Doctor probably dropped it when I shot him, I thought. “The sick fuck,” I said to myself as I shoved it into my rucksack.

  I still had difficulty in breathing and had to use the car as aid to shuffle to where the Doctor was lying.

  My shot with Marc’s rifle had hit the Doctor five inches lower than where I had aimed, penetrating his Kevlar vest and creating a flesh wound in his side.

  I was puzzled about the shot, until I recalled Nic’s struggle to zero the rifle. Now things started making sense.

  I found the keys for the Hyundai in one of his pockets and didn’t waste any time in leaving the scene.

  I reached the roadblock five minutes later and informed the agents as to what had happened. They told me to leave the Hyundai with them, and dropped me off in one of their sedans at my hotel a few minutes later.

  The agent went into my room with me, to gather my bag, and then deposited me safely in my Merc. He took the keys to my room and informed me that they would book out on my behalf and sterilise the room after they’d sorted out the scene at the buttes.

  I was still sitting in my car twenty minutes later, feeling slightly better, playing the happenings of the morning through my mind.

  The 9mm slug had hit me just below my heart, probably cracking or breaking a rib. Luckily the Kevlar vest stopped the slug from penetrating my body. I had stopped hyperventilating and was breathing almost normally again.

  I wasn’t sure who the little dark-haired knight on the white horse was, but I was very glad he showed up when he did.

  This was indeed one operation going completely haywire, and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I was still shocked at Nic’s demise, and I couldn’t believe my lucky escape. I needed some time to process everything that had happened. This was a seriously hectic day, and it was not even nine o’clock yet.

  I started the Merc and switched my phone on as I turned onto the R712, heading back towards Bethlehem. The screen started blinking with a series of messages.

  The next moment the phone started ringing.

  It was Mr Malan, Danielle’s principal. There was no reason for him to call me, unless something was wrong.

  “Good morning, Mr Malan. How are you today?” I enquired.

  “Good day, Mr Coetzee. I’m fine, thanks. I am phoning to enquire about the whereabouts of your daughter. I can’t recollect about an arrangement for her to miss school today.”

  My heart missed a beat.

  “No, sir. There is no such an arrangement. I am in Clarens for work. Isn’t Danielle at school today?”

  “No, Mr Coetzee. She didn’t attend breakfast at the hostel this morning and didn’t show up at her register class either. Her register teacher reported it to me immediately because of the recent mishaps with your family. We thought that she might be with you.”

  I had never taken Danielle out of school without clearing it with her superiors in the past. There was no reason for her not to be at school today. Mishaps with my family? Now Danielle was blacklisted at school as well.

  “No, sir. But I will follow up with my family. Please just give me a moment or two and I will come back to you.”

  This was absurd. Danielle was not the kind of person to skip class. She would also not go on a venture before clearing it with me.

  I disconnected and stopped at the side of the road and immediately called her on her mobile phone. The phone was switched off and did not ring. I left a message anyway.

  This was not like her at all. It was usually me who was upsetting the family, not her. She was the considerate one.

  I was not going to start alarming my friends or family, unless I knew what was going on. Maybe there was a message from her.

  I started going through my messages. The third message sent shivers down my spine.

  “Good day, Coetzee. I am entertaining your daughter at my lodge. If you want to see her alive again, make sure that you and Doctor Fernandez arrive here not later than four o’clock this afternoon.”

  It was the voice of Lillynn Camila Garcia. She had left the message at six o’clock this morning.

  Shit. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse. Apparently, I was wrong.

  A mild panic overcame me, like when I was a kid and my mother caught me doing something I shouldn’t.

  I hated that helpless feeling.

  I had to play for time. I knew where Danielle was, and to get this day to end well, I needed assistance. Kwinzee’s assistance. I had to get him in Dullstroom as soon as possible. But before I went on a wild goose chase, I needed to confirm with Lillynn.

  I listened to her message again, then pressed the button to return the call. She let her phone ring five times, before answering.

  “Are you and the Doctor on your way?” she enquired.

  “I am on my way to pick him up,” I lied. She was definitely not going to get the facts from me. Not with Danielle still missing.

  “Can I please speak to my daughter?”

  “Hold on.”

  The phone went quiet for thirty seconds. It felt like thirty minutes to me.

  “Hi, Daddy. I’m okay, Daddy. Please come fetch me.”

  Before I could say anything, Lillynn was back online.

  “Your deadline has changed to three this afternoon. Stop at the gate and phone me. Do not approach the lodge.” The phone went dead.

  Shit. She changed the time fo
r the meeting from four to three. Before I could play for time, she had hung up on me.

  I had a little over six hours to get to Dullstroom. Dullstroom was less than five hundred kilometres from Clarens. It shouldn’t be too difficult to be there in time.

  And calling me Coetzee. Who the fuck does she think she is? The last time anyone called me Coetzee was when I was still with the Defence Force. The bloody bitch. Wait till I get my hands on her.

  My next call was to Kwinzee. “Hi Kwinz, I need you in Dullstroom asap. Drop whatever you are busy with. Danielle was kidnapped by the Cuban bitch.”

  I was getting more and more agitated, and Kwinzee could sense it. Luckily, he knows me very well.

  “No sweat, DC. Are we meeting somewhere?”

  “Yes, Kwinz. You must meet me at Belfast, just off the N4. I am on my way there from Clarens and should make it there before two.”

  “What hardware do we need for the job, DC?”

  “Go to my house, Kwinz, and get my Remington .308 with a box of ammo from my safe. Then take the road over Zebediela and Stoffberg to Belfast. There shouldn’t be any roadblocks. I will phone again later.”

  The last thing I needed now was for Kwinzee to be stopped and locked up for illegal possession of my rifle. But we needed a rifle for the task at hand, and the Steyr SSGs were definitely not available any more. The drive from Polokwane to Belfast was close to two hundred and fifty kilometres and should take him less than three hours.

  My next task was to put the principal at ease, before my whole family was on my case again.

  “Hi, sir. I have found Danielle. She is with her aunt for the weekend. Sorry about that, but we will both be in your office on Monday morning to explain ourselves.”

  That was what the guy wanted to hear.

  “No problem, Mr Coetzee. I am looking forward to hearing Danielle’s explanation. Enjoy your weekend.”

  ***

  Nigel, East Rand.

  The phone on Chicco’s desk rang three times before he grabbed it. “Ciao”.

  “The problem has been straightened out”. He recognised the voice of Dino Lupo.