“Wow, I really should look at you from this angle more often. You are so beautiful my Lisa.” Night looked at her adoringly. Seemingly forgetting his purpose. The waiter cleared his throat loudly.
The nudge of encouragement worked and Michael snapped out of his brief trance and opened the velvet box to display a diamond engagement ring, elegantly crafted with three separate stones.
“Will you be my wife, my lady?”
Those seven words unlocked the flood gates and Lisa broke into tears.
Night instantly, through protective instinct for her, stood up and held Lisa – to comfort her. To love her, to make her feel better.
“I’m not that bad am I?”
Lisa composed herself momentarily and spoke through the tears.
“No you silly man. I thought you were going to break up with me. That’s why I thought you brought me here!” she lightly punched him on the chest.
“You punch like a girl Lisa” said Night sheepishly, upset with himself for making her cry and a bit embarrassed by having almost the entire restaurant stare at them.
“…Yes... Yes, Michael Night, Yes, I will be your wife. I would love to be your wife.”
And as one the entire restaurant applauded. The waiters gathered around them and started to sing a celebratory Zulu song of joy and love.
Phew, Night thought to himself, give me a shootout any day but this emotional stuff, my word it’s stressful!
A couple of hours later and after breaking the good news to Lisa’s parents-- earlier in the day Night had asked the father for his permission to marry his daughter which he happily gave -- they enjoyed a celebratory nightcap together.
After the drink and while Lisa enjoyed a hot bubble bath Night was outside playing with his boy Wamba under the garden lights. Lisa’s father watched from his vintage rocking chair while enjoying a double brandy. “How many balls have you gone through tonight?” he asked.
“He’s been very gentle today so only two. One tennis ball – he completely swallowed it the silly bugger. And he destroyed a rather nice soccer ball that I bought specially for him earlier on today. I was silly to think it would last longer than an hour. Anyway it’s the tyres he loves…”
“I can see! And only Wamba would be content with a truck’s tyre!”
Wamba had a tractor tyre in his colossal jaws. Night was pulling, hard, on the other end.
At one point the pooch-beast seemed to acknowledge Night’s extra efforts in playing with him. He let go of the tyre, nearly causing his master to fall over onto his backside, and walked to his dad and lovingly pushed him to the ground with both of his great paws and proceeded to give Night a huge, wet, slobbery lick across his face. Night laughed out loud with utter joy. “You sloppy bastard!”
Michael stayed outside playing with his K-9 buddy until well after midnight. He finally went in to the house when Lisa came to get him. She was wearing a satin silver night gown and her hair was down and flowing against the gentle Johannesburg breeze. She stood in between the door frame, her feminine and voluptuous figure silhouetted by the lights inside and beckoned him in with an alluring finger. Night filled with love and desire. His body swelled with passion. He went inside leaving the tyred out Boerboel pit fighter to enjoy his treat - a huge animal bone that Night had acquired for him from the local butchers.
The betrothed couple made sweet, passionate, love, engaging themselves in carnal love making a number of times during the night, as quietly and as controlled as possible – they didn’t want to alarm her parents. The loving couple eventually drifted off to sleep sometime after 0200hrs.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Approximately 24 Hours Earlier
Maleven brought in the tied up domestic worker and threw her down at the feet of his master.
“For you Colonel. She is still fresh. And I found what we were looking for, I have it!”
The two criminals were sitting in the home of their victims, a large five bedroomed house situated in the leafy suburb of Linksfield Ridge. The property was perched on a hillside and commanded a magnificent view. Somewhere in the distance was Alexandra Township. The criminal gang, six of the Colonel’s underlings, including his loyal Jabulani, and the infamous “Maleven” who had just been initiated into the gang because of his reputation for torture and murder and targeted assassination, and the Colonel himself had broken into the property a couple of hours earlier. They had found the domestic worker asleep in her living quarters at the back of the property and had forced her to open the main door to the house with her keys and disable the alarm system linked to an armed response security company.
They came silently upon the two sleeping adults of the household, put guns to their heads and tied them up with electrical cord. They gathered and secured each of the family members one by one and brought them to the upstairs living area where the robbers and rapists now sat.
In front of uSathane were the parents of the family and owners of the property, both in their late forties, their teenage daughter next to the father on the one side and their young son, aged nine, lay hog tied next to his mother on the other. All of the family had been gagged and stripped naked.
“You see. You people have everything. You white people have everything. And my people have nothing. The black people have nothing. We live in the gutter, in the townships, like rats. That is why we must punish you. We must take from you what should be ours.”
He beckoned his new thug over to him.
“Show me what you can do Maleven! Show me why you are worthy of serving me.”
Maleven was a short and stocky man. He had a deep and grating voice brought on by alcohol and drug abuse. He wore aviator sunglasses night and day and sported a black leather jacket and dark corduroy trousers. All-star shoes. He had a wickedly evil smile and flashed it regularly displaying a mouth with hardly any teeth and a serpent like tongue that he had purposefully pared while in prison to look reptilian.
Without saying a word Maleven moved over to where the young boy was knotted and lying face down and stood over him from behind and put his Norinco .45 pistol to the back of his head. Only momentarily he looked up at his leader and uSathane almost imperceptibly nodded his head in approval.
Maleven pulled the trigger and executed the young boy. uSathane’s gang were unusual in South Africa in one aspect – all their firearms were silenced.
The mother roared with emotion and flung her restricted arms and legs wildly in the air. Jabulani moved over to her and hit her over the head with the garden spade he had used to kill the family’s pet poodle only minutes earlier. She was knocked unconscious.
The father and teenage daughter didn’t make a sound. The daughter was gripped with fear, afraid of being raped, scared to draw attention to herself. The father was in shock and not of sound mind, his thoughts were incoherent and he felt as though he wasn’t in his body.
“Good. Now kill the rest of them. We don’t need them but leave the girl for me. I leave tomorrow to begin the journey home after I take my treasure and I will need the blood of two women to sustain me for the drive” instructed uSathane.
This time Maleven took the spade from Jabulani and turned it so that the garden tool became a blade and brought it down onto the unconscious woman. He had to strike her over two dozen times to fully sever her head from her body.
The father mumbled. And again and again more loudly. His entire body started to shake and he eventually broke free from the constraints – his strength was immense and came from deep within the man. One of the Colonel’s men saw the danger and quickly shot him in the back twice. He fell to the ground and lay still then moved once more, taking the flannel out of his mouth, that was used to silence him, and was about to say something. The gang member now moved his gun to the wounded man’s head and was ready to pull the trigger.
“Wait. Let him speak. I want to hear what this white man, this settler, could possibly want to say to me now after I have killed his little boy and his bitch wife” said uSat
hane.
“Why?... why…why” pleaded the distraught doctor, the words barely audible through tears and inexpressible pain.
uSathane laughed an unnerving and unnatural laugh.
“I should have told you from the start. I am in such a rush that I forgot to tell you what brought me to your door, what doomed you and your family.”
The Colonel they called the Devil looked around the room, seemingly savouring the moment. “Michael Night brought me to your door doctor-Michael Night caused the death of you and your family.”
“…But…how, why…what?”
“Because you are his doctor. The man has no family and friends here or anywhere that I could find and he has removed all of his personal records from his police station, he is a careful man, but he forgot about you. He forgot to remove the letter of recommendation about his good health that you wrote for the station commissioner six months ago, my policemen-servants got the letter for me. And that’s why I am here. Because I knew you would have the details I needed.”
The doctor gasped desperately as he clung onto life, his mind unravelling.
“But he lives at the police station….”
“Yes doctor but it’s not his address I am after is it.”
The words were barely audible: “I don’t understand.”
“His bitch, doctor, his white Afrikaans bitch!”
uSathane instructed Maleven to finish off the good doctor and uSathane prepared himself for his usual ritual of rape and cannibalism. Maleven savaged the doctor’s body with the bloody spade.
“Now go Maleven, leave us and complete your final test. You must kill this white Lisa bitch and her family. You have the address, kill her and her family and wait for the bastard cop. And when he comes to investigate where his pretty little bitch is you must kill him, don’t leave the house until he comes, eat their food and drink their water and sleep in their house for as long as it takes and don’t attack until tomorrow morning! Not this morning Maleven, you understand, I must leave first before you do this final thing. Now go, leave us to enjoy!”
uSathane and his men laughed that malevolent peculiar laugh once more and the temperature in the room plummeted. The domestic worker and the young teenage girl prayed for a swift death. uSathane produced his rusty Panga and eyed the girl. His breath left his body as he exhaled in excitement and lust and the air turned white like a fine mist…
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Night was falling. Down, down, down, the world was tilted. No longer flat. He was off balance, drowsy and drunk. He looked at his hands and they were red. Red paint, NO, blood. Blood of the dead, blood of his dead. He now stood rigid. Aandag, attention! He saluted the scorched man. The dead man. Good afternoon sir, that’s a nice tyre you are wearing today. Falling, again, down, down, down, he killed and killed. But only to protect, my lord, only to protect. He saw the dead whore in the bathroom, the dead drug dealer on the bed. Headless. Headless dealer, a pill for your headache perhaps. Breakfast sir? Would you like some food. Hunger, pain. Falling, down, down, down. On a bridge. Looking down. AK47 in hand. Suspect holding weapon in his hand. In his other hand the head of a woman, a young woman, who was she? Who was he, Night strained and looked closer, focusing his mind. The girl was black and white, the man was purple and blue. Golden eyes. I must kill the man he is holding the woman hostage I must kill him. Night raised his weapon and took aim. The iron sights found their target – the head of the suspect. Goodbye! Night pulled the trigger. Good bye evil man. But bad man waved back, smiling, laughing he waved back at the helpless police officer. Fear, panic, fear, panic, helplessness, impotence. I am impotent! Sweat, panic, fear, scream, heartbeat. Wetness, soaked, wet, a lion upon my head. Begone beast I am useless so take me now, I am no use, impotent policeman, not worthy. The beast came closer, its jaws opened wide ready to devour the black and white Night. Foul smelling beast!
Wetness and slobber across Night’s face woke him suddenly. The stench of Wamba’s meat blemished teeth, tongue and breath greeted Night as he sat up in bed. His loyal buddy stood over him breathing deeply, looking confused and worried, his gigantic lungs working overtime to support the magnificent animal.
“Ah shit…. well that sucked, I thought I was over the ‘impotent dream’, anyway thanks buddy. You woke me. I was having a really shit dream...and I’m starving.” Night rubbed his eyes and swung his legs out of bed putting his feet on the floor. Happy to feel solid ground beneath him once more. He picked up his shirt which lay nearby on the side table next to him and used it to wipe away the sweat that stuck to his body like a second inhuman skin. “But how did you get in?” Night’s heart missed a beat and he immediately looked over at his fiancée. “Thank God she is okay, she could sleep through an air raid.”
His heart slowed and he took a deep breath through his nose.
“But Wamba my boy, how did you get in?” Night reached down into his shoe which lay below and next to him and produced his Heckler and Koch 9 Mily. He double checked it was battle ready and stood up to walk out of the room.
“Come boy! Let’s have a look at what’s going on. COME!” Night used the urgent but controlled tone he knew got Wamba aggressive and alert. Wamba responded immediately, his ears pinned back against his immense head, his muscles defined and ready for action. Night looked at the heavy-duty animal.
“You make one helluva partner bud!”
Night cleared the first room, locking the doors behind him as he cleared the quarters, methodically working his way from the inside of the house, bedrooms first and then out. He was in the main bedroom where Lisa’s parents were sleeping. Night peered in, his Surefire tactical torch illuminated the area. All was clear. Night turned to leave, Wamba by his side.
“Mike, is that you, what’s happening?” said Lisa’s father.
“Nothing pops. I am just making sure everything is okay. You didn’t hear any strange noises did you?”
“No Mike, nothing, are you sure everything is okay?”
“Yes, now go back to sleep and have pleasant dreams. I am just making sure everything is okay. And I am going to lock your door, but only for a moment while I make sure everything is kosher. When you hear me unlock it again you can fall back to sleep and rest peacefully. Okay?”
“Okay Mike, okay” said the kind and good man.
Night cleared the rest of the house until he came to the doors that led to the garden of the property. They were wide open. Then he remembered. In his hurry to get into bed with Lisa he had forgotten to shut the door. A big mistake in South Africa, an error that can quite easily cost you your life.
“Idiot!” Night admonished himself as best he could. “Bloody stupid idiot!...”
Night saw his loyal Boerboel looking up at him inquisitively as if to say “Is everything okay now?” Well at least that’s what Night thought he was thinking.
“Yeah, I think so my boy. At least you were awake and on guard hey. Come let’s lock up here, grab some chow and put the alarm on and get some sleep – tomorrow is going to be a big day! And for the rest of the night you can sleep with us in our room.”
Wamba usually slept indoors in the kitchen on his own mat. It was a lot safer that way as dog poisoning in South Africa is relatively common. Night had seen more than two dozen cases of dogs being killed by robbers in Johannesburg. They would lace food with a South African pesticide called Aldicarb and throw it over the wall for the dogs to eat at night and then jump over and raid the residence, now free from protective and noise making hounds. The criminals called the toxin “Two-Step” because it takes just two steps and the dog, usually a very loved pet, is dead.
The police Sergeant had taken precautions to guard against his faithful friend from being murdered by training him to only take food by hand from himself or Lisa or directly from his food bowl that always stayed inside. But you could never be too careful. Night cleared the rest of the property including the garden and perimeter wall, locked up the gates and put the alarm on. He unlocked Lisa’s p
arents’ room and let them know everything was okay, shared a midnight snack of left over cold boerewors with his loyal friend and went back to sleep. Wamba at his side on the floor, slobbering on his hand.
A few hours later and Night woke up from his light sleep. He was lying on his back. Lisa’s gentle face was on his chest along with her left arm. Wamba had fallen asleep with his giant head on his hand against the floor. Night carefully removed the limb, he couldn’t feel it though, it too had gone to sleep under the weight of the big head. Night lifted his arm and shook it awake.
“What are you doing?” said Lisa softly while yawning.
“Wamba fell asleep on my arm. Feels numb, I’m just trying to wake it up is all.”
“Did you sleep well baby?”
“Nah, I had another one of those policeman’s dreams, you know where my firearm won’t fire, mixed in with some other nonsense…”
“Ah I’m sorry my baby, why didn’t you wake me I would have looked after you.”
“I know you would have girl but our Wamba here woke me first. With his bone smelling breath! It was pretty cool actually, he became part of the dream. You know what I mean, and then I woke up and he had his massive tongue all over my face.”
“Good baby boy my Wamba!” Lisa said while leaning over Night and giving the dog a type of noogie on the head. The large beast opened his eyes and let out a large yawn, stood up, stretched and sauntered out of the room as if he owned the place. Night was surprised to see the former pit fighter use his paw to release the handle of the door and walk out.
“What the! Since when has he been doing that Lis!” .
Night in London Page 27