Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  There was a commotion among the soldiers as a car approached, its headlights illuminating the whole area. It stopped at the edge of the clearing and one of the soldiers raced over to open the rear door. A large black man, dressed in army uniform festooned with gold braid, got out and conferred with the soldiers for several moments, and then walked over to the pit. He barked out a command and someone rushed to hand him a torch. Slowly he shone it on the crowd huddled beneath him and panned slowly across. When it swept past Amie she looked up, but the light beam went past her, and then it swung back again, and shone right in her face. She tried to figure out something, anything, about the man behind the torch, but the light totally destroyed her night vision.

  The new arrival barked out an order and one of the soldiers scrambled down into the pit and grabbed Amie by the arm pulling her up after him. She didn’t even have time to wonder if this was good news or not before she was half pushed, half dragged in front of the man in charge.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked in passable English. A sense of relief washed over Amie.

  “I was driving near town – and – and – and your m – men s – stopped me,” she stuttered.

  “You are from where?”

  “From England and I ... I wasn’t doing any harm, nothing wrong …” Amie trailed off.

  “You are working here in Togodo?”

  “Yes, no, yes, I mean my husband is. He is building the new desalination plant to bring fresh drinking water for everyone.” Amie knew she was whining but she couldn’t help herself.

  The commander, as Amie now thought of him, gave a sarcastic laugh. “For everyone, yes, yes, that is a joke.” Then he turned to his men and from what Amie guessed was giving them a severe reprimand for taking a white woman. At least that’s what Amie hoped.

  “Can I go back to Apatu, please?” she asked, hating to beg yet desperate to escape. “I want to go home.”

  “To your England?”

  “Yes.”

  “That would be most difficult, the airport has been closed.”

  Amie’s hopes of a quick escape were dashed. The commander turned to confer with several of his men and for a brief moment, Amie thought of trying to make a run for it, but she didn’t know which way to go, and she was aware of the dangers out there. It wasn’t like running off into the English countryside at night, the worst you could suffer there was the cold and damp.

  The commander gave an order, and several of the men lined up along the edge of the pit. Raising their guns, they began to fire on the hapless prisoners below.

  Amie cried out in terror and turned away, she couldn’t bear to look. Their shrieks of pain and terror filled the air, and there were sounds of scuffling as those closest to the edge of the pit tried to climb out and escape. One man fell to the ground right beside Amie, his body riddled with gunshot wounds, it jerked uncontrollably. Amie shrieked and jumped away, shaking from head to toe. Her teeth were chattering and she felt herself losing control of her own body. Slowly she sank down onto the damp ground and tried to curl up into a small ball.

  Then there were shots from a little further away, and several of those who were standing around suddenly turned away and faced out into the darkness. At the edge of the clearing, more shadowy figures were approaching, guns aimed at the commander’s men who for several moments were too shocked to return fire. Then all hell broke loose.

  13 CAPTURED

  Amie kept as close to the ground as possible and slithered backwards over the damp earth. Bullets flew to either side of her and over her head, but she didn’t think she’d been hit. Somewhere she’d read or heard that when you were shot, it didn’t hurt for a while, as the body went into shock. I’m alive, I’m still breathing, she told herself over and over again. She wasn’t aware she’d already been in a state of shock for several hours.

  The firing went on and on, lighting up the darkness in sudden bursts of light before everything was plunged back into darkness. It was hell as Amie had imagined it, total chaos, screams, cries, shrieks, women wailing, men shouting and pleading, the stench of blood, faeces and urine. The rattle of the machine guns went on and on, and so did the shouts and the screams and the shrieks and the cries of agony.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the shooting stopped, leaving a silence that was deafening, broken only by those poor souls in the pit who were still alive, and the sounds of some of them still trying to scramble out.

  Amie looked up slowly, and could hardly believe her eyes. Colonel Mbanzi! He was here, surrounded by several of his soldiers, one of whom looked like the driver on their second trip into the bush. Well, he can’t expect me to be filming this for him, Amie thought irrationally. She couldn’t make up her mind whether she should stay right where she was, or rush over and ask for protection. At least now she knew it was the rebels who’d brought her here and who were responsible for the massacre.

  Slowly she cast her eyes around. Colonel Mbanzi’s soldiers were dragging the dead and injured rebels, and piling them up to one side. Several more of his men had climbed down into the pit, pulling out those who were still alive. A few more troops appeared with portable lights which lit up the bush, and illuminated the carnage. More soldiers were posted around the edge of the clearing, to keep watch for the wildlife that would surely be attracted by the strong smell of blood.

  With the immediate danger over, Amie shuffled into a sitting position. She was still not sure whether to approach the colonel, he had never shown any empathy towards her before, but the decision was taken away when he turned his head and spotted her. He walked over.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. That’s the second time I’ve been asked that thought Amie.

  “I was in town, and the … uh …” what should she call them, soldiers, rebels? “There were explosions and I drove home but there was no one there, and I can’t find any of the other foreigners and then I was stopped in my car …”

  “They have all gone. They left before the airport was closed.”

  “My husband, Jonathon, did he get out, has he gone!” Amie felt frantic, was she the only foreigner left in Togodo?

  “The evacuation was very efficient,” stated the colonel, “we know how to deal with these filthy rebels and we do not intend for them to hurt our foreign workers.”

  The relief that swept through Amie was enormous. She was safe, the colonel wouldn’t let any harm come to her. He had enough sense and intelligence to realize it was not in the best interests of his country to murder foreign workers. She was sure he would get Amie repatriated as soon as possible, maybe by boat, if the airport was closed.

  She took a deep breath and was just about to thank Colonel Mbanzi not only for saving her life, but for making sure she was safely out of the country, when he suddenly seemed to grow larger, fly off the ground and disappear.

  I’m hallucinating was her first thought, but then she realised that from out in the darkness, someone had aimed a weapon and annihilated her rescuer. Amie watched in horror, as bits of what had once been Colonel Mbanzi flew in all directions. She slithered backwards, keening softly to herself. This couldn’t be happening to her. She was going mad and so was the rest of the world.

  More rebel troops poured into the clearing, shooting any government soldiers they could see and all Amie could do was to shuffle further and further away from yet another scene of carnage. For some reason she would never be able to explain, her hands remained firmly attached to both her suitcase and her bag as she dug her elbows into the ground and pushed herself away. Rocks, small stones and tree roots dug into her, ripping at her clothes as she scrabbled backwards, inch by inch. Her breathing was ragged and she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering. She had no other plan but to reach the safety of the darkness outside the clearing beyond the lights.

  As soon as she was enveloped in the darkness she rose unsteadily to her feet, though her first instinct was to bend over and run, it was all she could do to walk. Keep walking, k
eep walking, she told herself, keep walking, get away from the nightmare. Someone, somewhere, must know I’m not with the rest of the evacuees. Where was Jonathon? Back in England by now? Why did he leave on a plane without her? She felt waves of self-pity engulf her, she was all alone and no one was about to help her.

  Back at the pit the rebels had regained the upper hand. The wretched people who only a few moments before, had been saved by the government soldiers, were now forced back into the hole in the ground and speedily dispatched, along with any remaining government troops who had failed to escape. The rebels swarmed all over Colonel Mbanzi’s car, whooping with glee when they found several cell phones and more rifles in the boot. They collected up all the weapons and ammunition they could find, and commandeered the extra vehicles.

  All in all, it had been a successful night.

  “Where is the white girl?” the rebel commander asked, but no one had seen her. “We must find her. She will be useful as a hostage. If we threaten her life, then England will supply us with more weapons to help us defeat this corrupt Kawa government.” When he said the word Kawa, he spat into the dust.

  “Find her,” he instructed his men. “Find the woman and bring her back to the city. She will be useful.”

  If Amie thought she was going to escape, she had underestimated the rebels. She had only travelled a mere hundred metres before she was surrounded by yet another group of soldiers. They grabbed her arms, none too gently this time, and forced her back towards the clearing.

  When the soldiers arrived with their hostage, they were told to shove her into the nearest vehicle. As her carry-on case snagged against the door post, one of the soldiers wrenched it out of her hand and walked away with it.

  “No, stop, that’s mine,” pleaded Amie, but it only came out as a whimper. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she huddled on the back seat of the car. She had lost all hope.

  At some point Amie either fell asleep or blacked out, for when she opened her eyes it was daylight. She was aching all over and parts of her felt numb. No, it wasn’t some terrible nightmare, this was real. She thought about trying to escape, but there were soldiers all around, rebels or soldiers, it was impossible to tell one from the other, and for now, she was past caring, they were all her enemy. Even while she was trying to plan a daring escape, she realised she had neither the will nor the ability to do so. Her body was frozen in shock and with the shock, came indecision, so Amie just sat there and did nothing.

  Three large trucks drew up and several of the rebels climbed up into the back. Two of them pulled Amie out of the car and pushed her into the front seat of the leading vehicle, crammed between the driver and another soldier who climbed in after her. They set off at a brisk pace heading towards the city.

  As they reached the suburbs, it seeped into Amie’s brain the destruction and looting had spread out from the centre of the town and into the residential areas. She could see groups of people entering the houses, and trucks, cars and even supermarket trolleys were being used to carry away a wide range of household goods. One looter had piled his trolley so high that the television perched on top, tumbled off and fell into the road smashing into pieces; the convoy had to swerve violently to avoid driving over it.

  In the centre of town, the streets were strewn with rubble, some buildings still swaying precariously, threatening to crash down at any moment. Rubbish and spent cartridges were strewn over the ground and here and there, bodies were spread-eagled in the gutters, curled up next to abandoned buildings, or lying in the road and on the pavements.

  The area around the government buildings at the top of the main street remained unscathed. Amie could see the British Embassy as they drove past, untouched by the war, but the front gates were hanging open and she could see it was completely deserted. The complex that had housed the offices previously occupied by Colonel Mbanzi and his government troops had also escaped damage. As they turned the corner near the palace, she saw they were making for the police headquarters and the prison.

  A rough-looking group of soldier rebels were on guard outside the main entrance, but as soon as they saw the trucks approaching, they rushed to open the large gates into the courtyard and close them again behind the vehicles.

  Amie was man-handled out of the truck, but as her feet touched the ground, her legs gave way and she collapsed in a heap. The nearest soldier forced her to her feet, and pushed her from behind into a nearby doorway. She saw a long, stone corridor painted a dull yellow, with rooms opening off on both sides. Naked light bulbs hung precariously on frayed lengths of wire, casting long shadows on the walls and floor.

  They were joined by two more rebel soldiers, each one taking hold of her arms while the third held an enormous bunch of keys. They marched her along the corridor, turned right and then hustled her down a set of steps, at the bottom of which, was a large grilled door, which reminded Amie of the safety gate on the front door of her own house. It was only then she realised with horror, they were going to lock her up.

  The second corridor was lined with solid metal doors on the right and the left, but they stopped by the first one, and taking his time to choose the right key, the soldier unlocked the door and the two men supporting Amie shoved her inside.

  A cell about two metres wide by two metres long greeted her, a mattress on the dirty, stone floor, one thin blanket, and a bucket in the corner completed the furnishings. She turned frantically, fighting and pushing her way back up the steps, but they firmly propelled her inside, and slammed her against the wall. She was still clutching her handbag but they wrenched it away from her. The next moment, she felt hands all over her, grabbing at her skin, as they removed all the things she had hidden in her clothing. Then they turned and walked out, slamming the door behind them. The sound reverberated in the stillness of the prison.

  She burst into tears, things couldn’t get any worse. She fell back onto the thin, soiled mattress, sobbing until there were no more tears to shed.

  Upstairs in one of the largest offices, the rebel commander waved to a chair and waited for his captain’s report. “She’s safely locked up downstairs?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She has given us enough trouble,” the commander snorted. “So, what do we know about her? You have removed everything she had with her?”

  “Yes sir. She was hiding her passport, some money and her residence papers in her underwear. This is her bag, but it does not have anything of any use in it, except maybe her cell phone.” The captain placed Amie’s bag on the table along with her documents. “We understand she worked for Colonel Mbanzi, in his Communications Department,” he added.

  “Doing what?”

  “It appears she headed up the film unit. She was seen in many different places with her camera, and she was taken to film the village and the ambush.”

  “So, she’s not an amateur then?”

  “No sir, we do not think so.” The captain referred to his notebook. “She had a team with her, Ben Mtumba and Themba Rebasi.”

  “Themba is one of ours, so we don’t need to worry about him, but this Ben is related to the President, ex-president now. You must find him. I want him as well.”

  “Yes, sir,” the captain made as if to leave but the commander indicated he hadn’t finished.

  “You must do a thorough search of the house, and I want those tapes. Or have you already found them?”

  “No sir, not yet. She did have a case with her, but they were not in there, but we will have another look in the house. She was carrying a small suitcase but it has disappeared, someone took it.”

  “Leave her to me,” replied the commander. “I’ll have a little chat with her later. You may go.”

  The captain hesitated. “If I may ask, what are you going to do with her, sir?”

  The commander was silent for several seconds then smiled. He leaned back in his chair. “She will make a useful hostage which will deter any of the interfering outside countries getting too involved in a disput
e that has nothing to do with them. They already have their greedy eyes on the wealth we have found up north, and cannot wait to get their hands on our natural resources. Offers to develop and mine and refine and produce are pouring in every day. If we had not taken action, that scum Mtumba would have let them have it all, and for what, a pittance! No, they have no idea what they are dealing with now. Once they realize we are in power they will dance to a very different tune, oh yes.”

  He paused, “Go, go and find those tapes and anything else incriminating you can find. This is going to be the biggest show trial the country has seen in years, once we can prove Britain has been deliberately spying on us. Yes, this should work out very well indeed.” The commander waved the captain away and picked up the phone.

  As the British Airways 747 landed back in Britain, there was already a large crowd from the media waiting outside the fence. It had been entirely by chance that a British plane was standing on the tarmac at Togodo airport when the rebels entered Apatu. The word to evacuate immediately was out, and it was a chaotic and frightened crowd of people who made for the plane as if their lives depended on it.

  Jonathon was frantic. He’d been in his office when the attack started and he received the call to go straight to the airport, but at that moment, a bomb had exploded nearby, and the building began to collapse around him. He was knocked unconscious by the falling masonry, and had it not been for Alfred, his Fixer, he would have suffocated. Alfred dragged him out from under the beams, threw him over his shoulder, raced outside, dropped him into the back of the company pickup truck, and drove like a fiend to the airport. Jonathon was not even aware he’d been carried onto the plane, and it wasn’t until they were banking to the south over Ruanga he came to, to see a friendly steward bending over him.