by Ciaran Nagle
Lafarge was lazy and insubordinate and had only won his place in Kodrob's team because of his ability to arrange for cheap female company for his squad members whenever they were off duty. With his Gallic magnetism, decadent charm and roguish behaviour he appealed to the self-destruct instincts of Inferno's females and could attract squaws for half the price anyone else would have to pay. Now, as the other demons took their places, he lounged at the window and stared out at the seascape.
The door opened and Shafner and Mya ling entered. They conducted their elegant courtship unaware they were being watched by devils. At the moment that Mya Ling giggled and raised her hand to her mouth, Hideki held up both his arms and the scene froze.
'Now,' he said to Lafarge, 'this is the moment when Mya Ling's emotions and excitement are at their most vulnerable. She is already the ambitious, deadly woman we know her to be. But right now, she is genuinely attracted to Shafner. It is the first and last time that her heart is open to love. Only at this moment can we pull her heart strings and open up the channels that will pass her wickedness down the centuries to her great-great-granddaughter Nancy.'
Hideki bent himself over Mya Ling, closed his eyes, then placed his hands inside her body. He enjoyed a little melodrama and so chanted aloud an incantation he had memorised earlier. While he chanted his fingers moved rapidly together, as if sewing.
Mya Ling, ambition, hunger, power
In another's breast take root and flower
Flesh of your flesh, await the day
Your new home the heart of Nancy Kay
Lafarge watched with detached interest. He didn't share Hideki's fondness for hocus pocus. He just wanted to get back to Inferno and begin a mammoth drinking session with Holzman. His eyes wandered to Mya Ling's slender forearm and caught sight of the triad tattoo. He knew what it represented and realised that if the sun was not illuminating it, it would be in darkness and could not be seen by any angels that came along. It would be good to deprive them of an important clue, he decided. No-one would notice. While Hideki was still engaged with Mya Ling's soul, Lafarge pulled the curtain sideways, just a few inches. The arm slipped into shadow. The tattoo faded from sight.
Hideki was talking while he worked. He obviously didn't know Lafarge well for he thought the French demon was paying attention. 'The sins of the fathers are visited on the sons and the sins of the mothers are visited on the daughters as far as the seventh generation,' he pronounced with an air of gravity. 'Nancy is only the fifth generation from Mya Ling so we are well within the boundaries.' He lifted his head and removed his hands from Mya Ling, at the same time opening his eyes. He stood back and raised his hands as before. Mya Ling and Shafner unfroze and continued their romantic conversation then stood up and soon left the room, arm in arm.
Hideki looked delighted.
'That was highly successful,' he declared. 'Mya Ling's murderous lust for power will flow into Nancy. It will consume her. There is nothing she can do about it. It's just a matter of time.' Moments later the five demon team had left Earth and returned to their Infernal lair.
Southern Senegal, West Africa.
Nancy kicked the lorry into fourth gear and closed her driver's side window. They had travelled only a mile since leaving the frontier post between Gambia and Senegal.
'Why was there only one border guard?' asked Nancy. Why wasn't there a Senegalese border post?'
'They do not have enough money to build one,' replied Lafi. 'Sometimes there is a mobile post, a car or lorry with a policeman or soldiers to check passports. We had to be prepared for that. But tonight we are lucky.'
The rain was now pouring down and the wipers flicked noisily across the windscreen.
Lafi was peering through his own side window into the wing mirror. 'Slow down,' he barked.
Nancy checked her mirror and saw headlights behind.
'Trouble?' she asked.
'Maybe, maybe not,' replied Lafi, sounding less nervous than at any time since they'd met.
It was 4.15 am.
The headlights flashed, three longs and three shorts.
'OK stop around this corner, pull into the side,' ordered Lafi.
Sure enough, after the next bend a lay-by appeared on their right and Nancy slowed as she pulled in.
The children, she thought, how can I save the children?
But Nancy was not about to rescue any children that night.
A large white van pulled into the lay-by behind them and stopped, keeping its engine running and lights on. Lafi reached across and took the keys from the lorry's ignition and then jumped down and ran back, greeting the driver of the other vehicle with a handshake.
Nancy also went to see what was going on.
'Thirty-five, all healthy and fit for work, count them,' shouted Lafi above the rain.
The other driver nodded.
Lafi pulled the rear covers back and a host of sullen faces looked out.
He let the tailgate down.
Lafi shouted at the children in dialect and began to pull them physically from the truck. He kept shouting and pointing to the white van until the children proceeded reluctantly to walk towards it. The van driver counted every head and made sure they all climbed into his vehicle. He reached into his pocket, counted a bundle of notes and gave it to Lafi. After checking it, Lafi nodded and shook hands with the driver and then turned to where Nancy was standing.
The rain was streaking down her face and her clothes were already nearly drenched.
'Those poor kids, they're…' but she didn't know what to say.
'Not your business,' shouted Lafi brusquely. 'We go now.' He had successfully concluded his non-Brother transaction and was now clearly relieved. And confident. Nancy felt the balance of power between them had changed again and that Lafi was now fully in control of matters. She shivered in the rain, but not because it was cold.
The other driver shut the rear doors of his van, climbed into the cab and within seconds had pulled out into the road and was fast disappearing into the darkness. It had all happened so quick. The thirty-five children were still slaves. Nancy had helped them on their journey.
Back in the cab of the truck Lafi was now more businesslike and decisive. 'Thirty minutes' drive down there,' he indicated a side road Nancy hadn't noticed before. 'And then we pick up the drugs. No, not drugs. Medicines. Medicines,' he repeated. 'And go back to Gambia. Then you go home. You like go home?' he asked as though to reassure her that that was what he had in mind for her.
'Yes, I like go home,' replied Nancy calmly, taking the keys from him.
They drove for nearly half an hour through dense forest until it was clear they were again approaching the sea. The road was a mere track at this point. As they left the trees behind, Lafi pointed across some sand dunes.
'I can't get this lorry across there,' wailed Nancy.
'Only two hundred yards, but you must also turn truck around.'
There was no obvious trail for a lorry to follow across the sand dunes. They seemed to be virgin as far as vehicles were concerned, there were no tracks of any kind. Nancy drove slowly wondering if a wheel would become stuck. But Lafi - or someone - had evidently scouted the place well for the dunes were firm under the wheels and Nancy made solid, if bumpy, progress. At the end of the dunes, she halted. There was a sudden drop of about fifteen feet to the beach and continuing on was not an option.
She turned to Lafi, but he was already opening his door. 'Turn the truck,' he ordered. 'I start to find boxes.'
Nancy sighed as she took in the complexity of her task. She was feeling very tired after the recent tension and driving in the rain at night. Now she had to haul the lorry around to face the other way on a turning area not much larger than the lorry itself. She crunched into first, pulled the wheel hard down to the right and inched forward. Then smashed it into reverse and pulled the wheel to the left, reversing only a couple of feet. After what seemed like a 15-point turn the lorry was at last facing the way they had come. Nancy poured
with sweat.
She walked to the rear of the truck in case she was needed. Lafi already had the tailgate down. On the beach lay a camouflage cover in a rough heap. Beside it, in a large hole were several dozen small wooden crates, all marked 'UN Medical - Not For Sale.'
Lafi was hauling the boxes out of the hole and piling them up at the back of the truck. When he had finished he turned to Nancy and motioned to her to climb in the back. He passed each box up to her and she took them and moved them inside the truck. Within minutes they were done.
Exhausted and breathless, Nancy sat on one of the boxes.
'Why bring them here? It doesn't make sense.'
Lafi was also breathing deeply. But he was smiling too. 'Boat driver bad navigation. This wrong place. Brother very angry. Need Lafi fix problem. That why you here.'
So that was it. A monumental screw-up caused by the smuggling boat coming into the wrong cove and then having to stash the drugs, or whatever, till they could be salvaged.
'So presumably, the drugs should have come into a harbour in Gambia, then you wouldn't have needed me to help you cross the border?' Nancy was piecing it all together.
Lafi just smiled and nodded. He was starting to look quite smug about his accomplishment that night. He had saved Brother's illicit cargo and made a nice little earner for himself on the side. Not bad. He also hadn't corrected her when she said 'drugs'.
'OK we go home now. Only one stop, but after border.' Lafi jumped into the lorry and waited for Nancy to climb in the driver's seat.
It was 5.00 a.m.
Thirty-five minutes later they approached the border post and Nancy drew the lorry up at the barrier. Rain was now sluicing across the windscreen as the guard, the same one as before, emerged to greet them, this time dressed in a waterproof cape. But in the intervening time his temper had not improved. Humiliated by Nancy the first time around he was determined to exercise his authority. Lafi was not in hiding now and instead had donned a UN tabard, the same as Nancy's.
The guard pointed his rifle directly at Nancy's head. Without saying a word he motioned with the rifle for her to get down. Seeing Lafi, he summoned him too. The guard went to the back of the vehicle and the two UN tabards followed him.
'Open,' he shouted. Lafi, acting mystified with all the skill of a professional actor, untied the straps holding the cover and let down the tailboard without question. The guard pulled himself up inside the truck and began to survey the boxes neatly stacked in the centre.
'Where you get these?' he demanded of Nancy. 'How,' he looked at his watch, 'in one hour?'
Nancy was the picture of innocence. 'I told you, we are working closely with our colleagues in the UN. They met us on the road. We have to bring these very important medicines back to Gambia. Your President is waiting on them.'
Nancy was wondering how she could shout a warning to the guard and tell him she was Lafi's prisoner. Unlike the police in Banjul who Lafi claimed he had bribed, this man was clearly no friend of his. Lafi was standing too close to him right now, close enough that he might seize the guard's rifle if Nancy tried to warn him. It was just a matter of timing, Nancy thought. She had to choose the right moment and then it would all be over. She could talk herself out of any charge of complicity if it came to a judicial hearing, she was sure of that.
Lafi seemed to sense the danger. He had his arms folded, unthreateningly, and a bemused look on his face but he stayed within a couple of paces of the short border guard. That was another thing to consider. Lafi was strong and could easily overpower the guard in a fight.
But the guard had other matters on his mind.
'There is a charge for taking medicines. You must pay. UN must pay.' He had declared his intention now and his rifle was up and swinging back and forward from one to the other.
Then Lafi started speaking to him in dialect. They began to argue angrily. Lafi took some notes from his pocket and threw them on the floor. The guard looked and spat on them, shouting again. Lafi shouted back and threw some more notes on the floor. He gesticulated with short, jabbing movements and pointed at 'UN' on his tabard. The guard hesitated and demanded more. But Lafi knew he had found the man's price. He refused and shook his head. The guard looked from one to the other as though briefly considering killing both of them. He stooped warily, keeping his rifle pointed at Lafi and picked up the money. Then he abruptly walked past Nancy and jumped to the ground.
A minute later the barrier was raised and the truck sped forward, kicking up mud and stones from the rear wheels. They were back in Gambia.
But if Nancy was relieved to be another step closer to the airport and a long flight back to Israel, the look on Lafi's face reminded her of her predicament. He was grim and resolute, not joyful at their latest escape. She thought she knew the reason.
'I know what you're planning to do,' she said coldly, flicking her eyes to Lafi and back to the road. 'You mean to kill me, don't you?'
No answer. But the emotion of the moment was beginning to show on Nancy.
'Look, I know what's going on inside your head, Lafi, you laughing slave trader. You've messed up worse than a pig on a guided tour of a scratchings factory and now you want me to take the blame for all of it. There's just one thing I ask. If I'm going to die I want to die in a place of my own bloody choosing. You owe me that, after all I've done for you.' She paused. 'Don't you?'
No answer. Nancy had no idea how much of her insults he'd understood. But it made no difference. Lafi leaned forward and reached under his seat. He pulled out a snub-nosed revolver and showed it to her.
Great, girl. If he wasn't planning to kill you before you insulted him, he is now. Well, better a bullet than a knife.
Nancy wondered if she could crash the lorry into a tree. Lafi was heavier than her and would certainly go flying through the windscreen. But the impact might kill her too. Or she could just drive really fast to Banjul and hope Lafi was too scared to stop her. But he could easily shoot her in the side and then hold the wheel steady until the lorry came to a stop.
'Don't you?' She wasn't letting go.
Finally Lafi turned toward her and nodded his head. 'OK Nancy, where you want to die?' Big-hearted, generous man, granting her last wish.
'By the sea,' she said miserably. 'If I'm going to die here, far from home, I want to die on the beach with the open sky above me, the forest in front of me and sand between my toes.' She wasn't putting on the desperation.
'OK, you know where?'
'Yes I know where,' she replied. 'The romantic place we came through on the way here.'
They continued on in silence for the next 40 minutes but she knew he was watching her like a hawk in case she tried anything desperate.
The rain was still coming down in sheets as the road led out of the jungle and back onto the beach.
To the right, shadows of huge trees leaned over towards them like bully judges at a bloody assizes, their beaky canopies nodding in agreement that the punishment was right and just. You've been a bad girl. Drugs and child slaves. Death is the only verdict.
To the left the ominous dark sea grumbled its hunger while the waves begged for more seafarers to swallow. Come, sleep deep in our belly. Unwind your mortal coil. Rest and suffer no more. Give you up on Judgement Day, promise.
In front of them the ribbon of sand led back to civilisation and order but Nancy knew she wouldn't make it if she tried to drive on. Lafi was getting ever more fidgety and was pointing the gun anxiously towards her. She slowed the lorry down to a crawl and began looking for a suitable place to make her last stand. Eventually, just as Lafi began to inch towards her across the seat, she brought the lorry to a stop and switched off the engine.
It was 6.30 a.m.
The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, behind the tree line.
Nancy dropped from the cab and walked forward, kicking off her shoes. Lafi followed her, the gun in his right hand. He looked around and checked that they were in a secluded spot away from any settlement
s.
Nancy pointed to a slightly raised sand bar about twenty feet from the water's edge. There seemed to be more beach visible than when they came through earlier. The tide was going out.
'There,' she pointed, 'right there.' Nancy began to trot towards the spot she had indicated, still holding her arm out in front of her, pointing. Lafi was walking but quickened his pace to keep up. He brought the gun up level and pointed it forwards. His finger took a light pressure on the trigger. Nancy knew he would easily explain her disappearance to Habib. He'd simply say she got frightened and ran away. Would Habib follow up? Hardly.
Lafi looked behind him at the tree line and the forest behind it. Suitable place for a burial. Should be easy. He looked forward again. Nancy was running quite fast now, faster than necessary. Lafi speeded up too, breaking into a trot. Nancy reached the little sand bar.
And kept running.
'Hey,' Lafi shouted and started to race. But Nancy was now sprinting with all of her might straight towards the sea. She reached the first waves and splashed through until she could run no more and then dove head first and started striking out with all of her strength. Lafi had been taken unawares and was caught between stopping to take a shot or chasing her into the water. He fired off a couple of wild rounds at Nancy's disappearing form in the surf and then ran in after her. After a moment he stopped. With the gun in his hand he could barely swim and he couldn't see her now anyway.
Nancy hadn't heard the shots but continued swimming as fast as she could. She was no champion swimmer and knew she couldn't keep going long. But the tide going out might just save her. At the very least, it wouldn't be trying to bring her back in. After another minute and a half, completely exhausted and gasping for air, Nancy paused and looked behind her.
Nothing.
Yes, there he was, still on the shore. With the dawn light behind him she could just make out his silhouette. He was probably hoping she would try and swim back in to land further up or down the beach. Glint in his hand. Must be the gun. It was preventing him from plunging in after her. He couldn't swim with it and he didn't want to leave it behind. Keep hold of the gun, she whispered. That gun in your hand could save me. She flipped over on her back still gasping and floated. Utterly exhausted. She knew she couldn't last long before she drowned. Maybe she had three or four minutes at the most. The rain was still intense but there was also a breeze which made for some choppy waves. They were only a couple of feet high, but even so they kept swamping her face when she was trying to breathe.