The remaining two shooters acquired Shaka as a target and let loose a torrent of bullets upon him. A hailstorm of ammunition came down on the great Zulu warrior but he surged forward emitting inhuman strength, bellowing his Zulu battle cry. He threw his rifle down and pulled out his stabbing knife heading straight for the man who had mutilated and killed his little brother. Night saw uSathane stop smiling.
Meanwhile Stanislov and Tshabalala had regained some sort of composure and fired at the remaining two soldiers, each choosing to aim for the heads of their enemy and they succeeded, the two men fell in a heap to the floor, blood and brain matter splattered onto the back of the dusty white tent.
Sergeant Night saw uSathane rise to his feet, arms outstretched, his six guards dead on the floor. His expression was one of sneering contempt as he glared at Night and began an incantation in words Night had never heard. An almost imperceptible chill mist began to swirl around him and Night sensed the emergence of evil. But the Colonel’s eyeline shifted and he saw Shaka charging at him with his assegai raised. The arrogance fell from uSathane’s features and his face contorted into naked, visceral terror. The Zulu was upon him.
Daniel Shaka thrust his killing knife into the heart of Colonel Sifisu Sibanda from under his rib cage and lifted him clear off the ground. Shaka held him there, suspended in the air, while looking directly into his eyes.
“This is for my little brother Henry and for everybody else you have brought pain and misery to.” He then pulled the knife out and let uSathane fall to the floor. He slumped forward and Shaka caught his head and decapitated the criminal warlord with one mighty swipe and pull of his large killing knife.
uSathane fell to the ground, finally dead. And without his head.
Shaka dropped the Colonel’s skull, which neatly rolled its way next to the body of its owner, and Zulu fell backwards. The big man must have taken over a dozen 7.62MM rounds of AK ammunition to the chest at close range. He too was dead.
Night tried to stand up but couldn’t, he had taken a round to his chest and a round to his left leg that had shattered his shin bone. As he tried to stand up his leg collapsed in on itself. Night started to crawl to where his brother’s body lay.
Seconds later Kalahari and his men entered the tent.
“Outside is all clear. The majority of the force was in here! Our lot were sleeping. We kept them that way” said Kalahari.
Then Echo Bravo and one of his men entered the tent.
“All clear our side, all accounted for. One fatality… but he was sloppy.”
Night reached the lifeless form of Shaka and he put his arm on his large chest. There was no movement. Night pulled himself up to be able to look at the body of his friend. He noticed that Shaka’s chest was even larger than normal. He carefully removed his battle jacket and to his surprise saw that there was another kevlar vest underneath the protective kevlar and ceramic plating of the top battle jacket. Underneath that he had a trauma pack. Once Night had removed all of the defensive apparatus he felt something on Shaka’s chest. Was it? … It was.
The General entered the tent.
“We have it, the gold and cash. It is secure. There is still more to excavate but it’s all here. My God Michael, Daniel, my boys… are you… is he?”
“His heart is beating General, he is alive, barely” said Night.
The General took a deep breath.
“Thank God. Our plane is on the way and will touch down in under three minutes, I had arranged for him to fly past whether we succeeded or failed. The Bedouin men are setting up a landing strip and lights. We have a predetermined touchdown area and the pilot is also an excellent medic and a qualified CCA (Critical Care Assistant) and certified in ALS (Advanced Life Support.) We have full medical kit on board including a defibrillator, stretchers and drips.”
Night and his best friend could still survive. They stood a chance, albeit a small one. Would he enjoy another braai at Lisa’s place with his lifelong brother by his side and the great Wamba at his feet, only this time as a Captain and a millionaire? Time would certainly tell.
###
A personal message from the author:
Thank you for purchasing No Easy Day - Night of the Black Bastards – I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you!
If you did enjoy the book please do leave a positive review and star rating, it all helps. Please do also tell friends, family and colleagues about Night and his crew –nothing beats word of mouth and personal recommendations.
I would love to connect with you – I’m on Twitter and I’m on Facebook. For any security services or consultancy inquiries you can get hold of me through the Concept Tactical Worldwide website http://www.concepttactical.com
All the best and stay safe,
Casey Christie
Night in London Page 31