"I was thinking of asking Neliswe, an old colleague of mine, to investigate for us," Kate replied.
"Are you sure we can trust her?" he asked.
"Trust is a strange little word that means so much these days, don't you think? I will have to use that iPad of yours to stir things up," she replied.
"Ok, but let's start tomorrow. For once I just want to relax."
Nathan lay back next to Kate and looked at the sky above. Listening to the waves with his eyes closed he imagined himself back at home in Seattle, where his mother and father had just prepared one of their favorite meals.
How time had changed everything so quickly, almost bringing it all to a crescendo at this exact moment in history. Far too many thoughts occupied his mind and he desperately needed a break from reality.
"Let's go swim," Kate said, sensing his mood darken.
This time he decided to go with the flow; he really hated cold water but this British girl was not to be underestimated.
He knew that Nicole would be jealous of this scene, but he had to live his life as best he could.
For deep down Nathan felt their days of freedom were numbered.
Chapter 27
"China was able to turn the corner and become the leading super power because they have a
police state and they are able to force people to stop reproducing."
Dr. Eric R. Paiank
Steenkamp sat behind his desk; he loved this office at UWN HQ more than the one at Staaldraad. This one was on the third floor with a view over Table Mountain and the Cape Flats. The converted Wingfield Air Force Base had become the central command of the UWN HQ where a tight control across all zones in the Western Cape was maintained.
In Johannesburg a more impressive complex had been erected as their population had reached well over twelve million with an influx of workers from across the African continent. Seen as the New York of Africa, Johannesburg had swelled almost to the level of becoming unmanageable.
Every time Steenkamp attended a security meeting in Johannesburg, he felt as if he was in a different country. So much had changed since the fall of Apartheid and the National Party of De Klerk had sold out the country to Mandela and the ANC. But that honeymoon did not last long either. He still rejoiced in the fact that the National Party ruled South Africa much longer than the ANC did.
Steenkamp had mixed feelings towards old President Mandela; the last of the good men he felt, but he knew from records that like all other leaders of a terrorist organization, they all had blood on their hands. History would no doubt forget that fact. Regardless, Steenkamp never thought about the blood on his hands. How could he? He had a job to do.
In the modern new world of the UWN, there were no more political parties and democracy was a word that had very little meaning. In a way he was glad the UWN took over the administration of the Government - it brought an end to greedy and corrupt politicians who had no real leadership skills at all. Many of them had taken massive bailout packages from the IMF, committing their people to pay the debts for generations to come.
Steenkamp hated politicians.
The financial burdens came at a hefty price to the country and certain conditions had to be met. Their limited power had been snipped by the bankers and those who controlled the UWN. South Africa would always have a black president, but he, like all the others, was a puppet, regardless of his political pedigree. Those who make presidents chose their candidates well. Someone they could easily control and do their bidding, as long as the resources flow and the debts got paid.
Steenkamp didn’t care much about it, he had far too much on his plate to waste time dwelling on the politics of the past. He often thought about it, but realized South Africa was over; it was now just a province within the UWN. At least he has a certain skill-set from his days in the SADF and his talents were more hands-on: he was not one for discussions and debates, but for blood and guts.
He browsed through his twenty two page employment contract again, scanning through paragraphs and sub-paragraphs. Even though he was employed by the Government, he knew the UWN paid the bills and they wanted to maintain control of all their assets.
To locate elements in society that caused division and strife.
To relocate such elements to a place of national safety.
To remain impartial at all time, and to conduct assigned duties by superior officers with professionalism and discretion.
Just like the paid contractors, Steenkamp had someone he answered to. His evaluation board meeting was scheduled at 3.30pm today. This was his first since being appointed as the head of Regional Security for Zone 3. It was not on the same level as Zones 1 or 2 but it covered a much larger area. Deep inside he knew why they appointed him to manage Staaldraad.
Most of the Afrikaans extremists had located themselves in the rural farm communities; they were heavily armed and well-trained by the old Apartheid government. For that exact reason they selected Steenkamp to hunt them down, his own kind.
Steenkamp's office was adjacent to the other commanders who policed their zones within the Western Cape. Weekly meetings consisted of comparing untested strategies and statistic reports. All of it was useless.
But Steenkamp had one up on them, he used to be part of the toughest unit that the SADF deployed against SWAPO and Umkhonto we Sizwe. And they never stood any chance at all. Yet Steenkamp realized that his new set of targets had all been cut from the same cloth that he had. This time they were fighting for survival and not to keep some stupid political party in power.
No doubt he knew sooner or later he was going to be meeting some of his old comrades again on the battlefield. Nevertheless, he was not concerned as he had the latest military hardware and his detachment of highly trained German Troops.
Steenkamp had a job to do and a prison complex to maintain in secrecy. Yet Staaldraad was more than that, it was an intricate part of the ultimate solution to many unwanted problems.
Lt. Commander Lucas Modisa sat patiently drinking his coffee, waiting for Steenkamp who had flown him all the way from Staaldraad for a meeting.
"Sir, the Colonel will see you now," Steenkamp's private secretary called to Modisa.
She wore the rank of Lieutenant but was not attractive in any sense, she was however, very efficient at her job. With her menacing smile she made him feel nervous, she had undoubtedly read seen his personal file.
Modisa had never seen so many high ranking officers in one place before. He spent half his morning saluting just about everyone in the building. At Staaldraad, under Steenkamp's protection, he was fairly high up…… here at HQ he was nothing. Yet, he too carried the knowledge that offered him protection.
"Morning, Colonel," Modisa said as he saluted.
"We have a problem," Steenkamp said to Modisa, as he walked into his office.
Lucas had been waiting patiently for 35 minutes; he had already browsed through every magazine with pretty girls on the cover.
"What problem, Sir?" he asked as he waited for Steenkamp to ask him to sit.
Steenkamp was standing; he turned around and threw a file on his desk.
"This problem: Nathan Cohen," he said. "Read the document," he commanded Modisa, who opened the file quickly and scanned the report.
After a minute Lucas handed it back and sat down.
"It's time we rounded them up," Steenkamp said, stretching.
Steenkamp looked terrible; he had not shaved this morning and probably worked through the night.
"This time you'll have extra troops at your disposal, they are on the run and you’ll have a wider area to search."
Modisa was thrilled; he had finally been given the opportunity to put all his training to the test.
"Hopefully we will get some new Intel from Chantel within the next day or two before we strike," Steenkamp said as he sat down.
"Apparently they're on the move to their secret hideaway Kibbutz, the Ark, so this way we get them all in one swipe."
Lt. Co
mmander Modisa was excited.
"How many troops can I use, Colonel, for this operation?" he asked.
"All two hundred and fifty of them," Steenkamp answered. "I am tired of this lot. When this mission is over we have another group in Hermanus that needs our attention."
The region, for some unknown reason, had attracted many free-thinking people who without any religious convictions had set up eco-villages and opted out of society. Many of them had no financial records and no proof of tax payments or jobs. It was a concern for the powers that controlled every aspect of society.
"I think, when this is over, we re-deploy Chantel quickly as an undercover agent to infiltrate these groups. She has really shown her worth in some tough situations," Steenkamp said with pride in his voice.
After all, he had turned her, and in essence switched her allegiance. He was glad she was so young; she would always be accepted but he would have to discipline her regarding the fact that she lied to him. Yet, he still had faith in her.
"Check this out," Steenkamp said as he tossed a GPS print-out of her movements over the last three days.
It was detailed with exact coordinates; times and even temperature readings of her movements.
"She was still embedded with the extremists and had since relocated with them to a new site since the unauthorized Police raid on the farm."
"What do you mean, Sir, unauthorized raid?" he asked Steenkamp.
"Oh yes, someone following up on a missing British girl they suspected of drug trafficking, who was hiding on her boyfriend's farm………… a Miss Kathryn Baxter," he said.
Lucas looked at him puzzled.
"Yes, I know; nothing to do with our operation. Apparently she’s a drug dealer who is now on the run. Anyway, apparently she has now joined the cult and is also on the run with them."
Lucas laughed.
"How do you say it, Sir? Birds of a feather flock together."
They laughed together.
"Anyway, next time Chantel reports in will be your signal to prepare for the raid. So get your troops ready, Lieutenant, because you're going hunting."
"Good Colonel, I am tired of sitting around Staaldraad, processing prisoners," Lucas answered as he sat up straight.
"Sorry about that, Lucas, but there is more to just catching them, I suppose."
"Yes, Sir, you're right."
"I just want to have a quick shave before we go to lunch as I have an evaluation meeting this afternoon," Steenkamp said.
"This Chantel, do you think she will be ready for another assignment so soon?" Lucas asked, referring to Steenkamp's previous statement.
"Well, she'd better be…… I plan to use her as long as we can, until she fails us," he said.
Lucas knew what that meant.
"Remember, she's only 17, and with no formal schooling, she’ll be perfect for us to train into the type of agent we need. I think she understands the consequences of failure."
"What about her family? Her uncle is it... the leader from that first Kibbutz we raided, Mt. Ararat?" he asked.
Lucas had read the file; he knew some history of those they had arrested.
Steenkamp had not told Lucas everything but realized it was about time he knew.
"Yes, it's sad; you know he took Chantel in after the death of her parents. Apparently they were missionaries in Somalia who tried to convert a few Muslims. Can you imagine doing something that stupid?"
Lucas knew this already as Steenkamp had begun to repeat himself more and more. He thought it best to just remain silent.
Russell van Tonder, regardless of his view point, did have a good heart, and Steenkamp regretted the way he disposed of the man.
"I used the dogs on him to get a confession from the other prisoners," Steenkamp answered.
Lucas swallowed hard. He had not expected this from Steenkamp, as he sat behind his fancy desk in his suit and tie.
He took out his electric shaver and swiveled his chair around to face the window. Lucas watched Steenkamp's reflection as he began to shave.
"You do understand, we would’ve gotten rid of him anyway? I just wanted to get as much usage from the man before his moment came," Steenkamp said while he finished trimming the edges of his beard.
Lucas had no illusions about the times they were living in. He looked down at his UWN military iBand and knew he was part of a system that enslaved all within its grasp. Yet he did not mind. He liked belonging to something bigger than himself.
All Police and Military officers had specially configured iBand devices, which meant instant access to all restricted zones if your security level was high enough. They received orders and briefings instantly, and it also meant they were always tracked and monitored.
Within the grid all public transport was free and at certain fast food outlets there were special offers for service men.
Crime on the streets was very much a thing of the past. It still happened but the conviction rate was so high, only the very stupid tried it. Each unit worked within their own zone and they were accountable only to their superior officers. Both Steenkamp and Modisa, it seemed, were accountable to no one, and they liked it that way.
Lt. Commander Modisa couldn’t wait to lead his new detachment of UWN troops. Apparently the Germans followed orders without question, and they excelled at warfare.
This campaign had just begun and he couldn’t wait to unleash his white Impi's.
Chapter 28
"The ruling elite do not suffer with the masses, but only pretend that they do. For how can a
rich man truly understand starvation and cold, whilst living like a king?"
Nathan Cohen - Yeshua Tribe 2028
Claudia Barchevski finally had her family all to herself. She had scheduled some quality time together, just the three of them before Vargän embarked on his African trip which from all accounts he was not in the mood for. Her daughter however, even when she was at home was always on her phone.
Katiyana was not like most girls her age, but how could she be when her father was Vargän Barchevski.
"Yes, please, make it for 7:30 and try not to be late," Katiyana said to her friend.
Vargän and Claudia both detested it when Katiyana brought her phone to the dinner table. This was supposed to be family time; which was much needed of late.
"You know the rules, Katiyana!" Claudia said.
Mother and daughter did not always see eye-to-eye these days; it was one problem Vargän was aware of but powerless to influence as both were just as headstrong as the other. As before, he knew that time would resolve the matter, but there was something else that bothered him.
He couldn’t switch off like other people, as distressing matters continued to plague him. There was always some crisis somewhere. The good news was that the Israelis had decided to let the UWN handle the Egypt situation. Yet he knew that it was all due to the sudden raid by Mukhabarat, the Egyptian Security agents, on a terrorist compound in An Nakhi, which left three dead and five badly wounded. Undoubtedly Mossad had something to do with it, but as long as the Egyptian and Israeli's were working together, he didn’t care.
Vargän had his suspicions and he was sure the Israelis had them too; the Egyptians had carried out the raid far too quickly and effectively. The footage clearly showed the workshop, stacked with tubes and canisters with explosive material and other hardware, essential for rocket making. The evidence was overwhelming; a little too staged for his liking.
He snapped out of his thoughts, it was now time for his family.
"They tell me you have been spending a lot of time with your new friend, Fabienne," he said as he took a sip of wine. His security staff had informed him.
Katiyana didn't respond. She knew there were rumors but for now she would play them down.
"Yes, I have, is that a problem?" she asked her father.
"No dear, I need to know who you're spending your time with as your safety is very important to me. You do understand my security team has to run a s
ecurity check on all your new friends, just to make sure."
"Yes, I know, and I hate it, ok….. Always spying on me, I have no privacy," she said as she finished eating.
With that she got up and left Vargän and Claudia at the table, alone.
"She gets that from you," Vargän said.
Claudia was well aware and would never deny that the fiery spirit was her fault.
"Do you blame her? Is it really necessary to screen all her friends?" she asked.
"You know the rules, Claudia; we cannot take any risks. Threats have already been made on us, and you know that!"
They had received death threats before, mostly from religious radicals. One group had even called Vargän the anti-Christ and had vowed to kill him.
"So, tell me, what speech are you working on tonight?" Claudia asked.
They did not really spend much time together these days. They lived completely past each other, always busy attending meetings or going to functions, sometimes together but always departing in different cars.
"My speech is for the 9/11 address. It's only three years since it all happened; can you believe that? Time really flies, but it's still difficult to write."
The 9/11 attack of 2001 had paled in comparison to the nuclear attacks of 2026. Somehow the day for revenge was now synonymous with 9/11. Throughout the world, Islamic radicals always attacked on that date.
After dinner they retreated to their private lounge adjoining the main bedroom. It was great to be away from all the aides and staff that came along with being the UWN Chancellor.
Claudia changed when she was alone with Vargän; he brought out her childishness that he found irresistible. They had not made love in over a month as the stress of his work had drained him both physically and mentally.
He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was in the mood. They both needed it, to be free from the world they lived in. But Vargän still had some work to do that evening before he could relax completely.
"Just give me an hour, and then we can relax for the rest of the evening. I need to scan over some documents quickly and then I am all yours," he said as he kissed her gently behind her neck.
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