Per Fine Ounce

by Peter Vollmer

  “No. What did you drug them with?”

  “I don’t know what it is, but it’s something my father got from his army friends. They used it in Angola to incapacitate captured terrorists when flying them out of the war zone in helicopters. Very powerful, I understand.”

  Flown out of Angola? This struck a note. From intelligence reports, he knew better. These drugs incapacitated prisoners, and then unconscious or paralysed, they were then simply pushed out of aircraft over the sea without parachutes.

  “Anyway, thank you again.”

  He was surprised to hear Cherry also thank her.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “High in the Drakensberg, that’s why it’s so cold. It’s my father’s mountain lodge, we’re nearly at ten-thousand feet.”

  “How are we going to get out of here, and why are you doing this?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m not happy with what he and General Booyens are planning. They say you destroyed all the bombs and the rockets, but there’s still one bomb left that wasn’t damaged in the explosion. It’ll be arriving shortly by helicopter from Overberg. It’s their trump card.” She turned her back on him. “Follow me,” she said over her shoulder, leading the way in the dark.

  “Where’s your father?”

  “He sleeps, as does Booyens.” She paused. “If you’re thinking of trying to get to them, don’t. There are too many guards. They’re on the other side of the house.”

  Peace stopped, and Cherry walked into the back of him.

  “I can’t leave here, not without neutralising the bomb,” he said.

  She swung around on the path and stared at him. “How do you…” She was clearly exasperated. “Good God, you’re only one man. How do you propose to stop them and take the bomb from them?”

  “I don’t know, but will you help us? We need weapons,” he said.

  “I can’t do that. You know, supply you with weapons to kill my father, because that’s what you will ultimately be trying to do. I know he has succumbed to all this hatred and I realise he is wrong, but I can’t let you kill him.”

  “I don’t want to kill him. I’m just after the bomb — the final bomb in their arsenal, and it has to be the neutron bomb. Without it, their cause is lost. The whole movement will fizzle out.”

  Peace hoped he sounded convincing.

  He knew that if he didn’t kill Van Rhyn and his right-hand men, there was little hope of getting out of this alive. He knew they had similar sentiments about him, although this time, there’d be no waiting — they’d shoot immediately on sight.

  Peace knew that Cherry had to understand that Janet was probably their only way out of their current predicament and wouldn’t do anything that could jeopardise the assistance Janet was providing, irrespective of what her feelings were. She had not spoken since leaving the lodge other than the thank you she had uttered.

  “When do you think the bomb will arrive?” Peace asked.

  Janet shrugged her shoulders. “It won’t come at night; it’s too dangerous. Probably tomorrow morning. I overheard Booyens arrange for an SAAF Aerospatiale Puma helicopter to bring it up here. After the explosion, Overberg was taken over by the Air Force but somehow, they managed to get the bomb out without anyone being aware of it or before the Air Force, its high command still loyal to de Klerk, arrived. The testing centre is sealed. I think my father wants to stash it somewhere here until the hubbub has quietened. That’s about all I know.”

  “Then I’ll wait,” he said.

  “God, that’s crazy! In the morning, they’ll soon discover that you’ve escaped. He has six men here, not counting the caretaker. And he can handle a gun as well — he’s ex-military. They’ll be swarming all over the place.”

  “Three against six. I’ve been up against similar odds before.

  “Who says I’ll help?”

  “You don’t really have a choice, do you? They’ll know you assisted us.”

  She remained silent for a few seconds as she thought about what he had said.

  “I suppose not,” she finally conceded, dropping her head in resignation.

  “Right, then you’d better show me where we can get our hands on a few weapons,” he said, indicating the two carbines they had taken from the guards.

  “I think there are weapons in the helicopter.”

  They made their way over to it. Exposed out in the open, the wind howled softly around them, bringing with it the occasional flurry of snow. Peace slid the side door open and climbed in. It was dark inside. Janet handed him a mini-torch from next to the door, its narrow beam a cone of lighting dancing around the interior. He saw two carbines clipped to the inner fuselage as well as two machine pistols. Magazines containing cartridges protruded from canvas pockets of a few military weapon harnesses which hung from pegs. He saw something that he thought resembled a LAW, a light, anti-tank weapon; this was clamped to the side of the cabin by metal clips. He got up close to look at it and recognised it as an anti-tank rocket-propelled weapon manufactured by the local arms industry, a designated FT5. When loaded it was quite heavy, not something you wanted to lug around with you when you were in a hurry. It seemed quite sophisticated, complete with telescopic sight with night-vision. He looked for the projectiles to load it and realised that it was already loaded. He unclipped it from the side and then saw that the other side of the cabin had another clipped to it. This he also took. He saw the tripod-like stand to the side of the door and realised it was the mounting pedestal for a machine-gun. He swung the torch around the interior again but could not find the weapon.

  He handed a machine pistol and a carbine each to Cherry and Janet in turn. “This will do,” he said to them, hefting a LAW in his hands.

  “Between the three of us we’ve got to get all this, and I mean weapons and both rocket-launchers, to a hiding place. I’ve a feeling we’re going to need these. This bloody helicopter mounts a machine-gun but I can’t see it, so hopefully, they left it behind,” Peace remarked.

  Nobody complained.

  Then, seeing how Janet gingerly handled the carbine he added irritably, “Janet, the damn thing won’t bite, just hold it for me.”

  He realised that should another helicopter arrive, it would have to settle on the same small piece of flat ground; there was nowhere else.

  He slid the door closed and looked around carefully. There was little to use for concealment, but they had to get out of the wind. About a hundred yards away, a small outcrop of rock reached higher into the sky than the surrounding area. This was the highest point of the mountain.

  “C’mon,” he said, and took the lead with a LAW on each shoulder, barely managing under the load.

  The outcrop was more than he hoped. If they took position behind it, they would be hidden from view from the lodge and the helicopter apron. At the same time, they’d also be out of the wind.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Just after four,” Janet replied.

  He reckoned that sun up would be in about an hour and a half’s time.

  He found a small nook in the rocks, big enough to accommodate them. He beckoned the women closer, and they squeezed into the small area, their bodies pressed together.

  “This should keep us warm enough,” he said.

  “Really cosy,” Cherry replied with a sneer, not able to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. However, when they lay down, she made sure she lay between him and Janet. She obviously wasn’t leaving anything to chance!

  It had continued to snow on and off and as it became light, they awoke. They were covered in a light blanket of snow. This pleased him, as it would help conceal them.

  It was some minutes later when they suddenly heard noises and raised voices from the house. Peace slowly rose, his knees stiff from the cold, and peered over the rock that separated them from the direct view to the house. He could see four dark figures outside the door of the lodge bunched together in deep conversation, with one of the figures continuously gestic
ulating. He thought it had to be Booyens. He also noticed that all were carrying weapons, an assortment of automatic carbines and pistols.

  Thank God for the snow. At least we haven’t left a trail.

  Two of the men broke away from the group and made their way to the helicopter where they slid open the door and entered. Seconds later, a man reappeared and from the shouting and arm waving, Peace realised they had discovered that most of the weapons had been removed from the helicopter. The others ran from the house to join him alongside the aircraft.

  Peace made a decision. If they made any movement towards where the three were hidden, he’d open fire, trying to get as many as he could. However, what disturbed him was that Van Rhyn was not to be seen.

  “Where is Van Rhyn?” he asked, perplexed.

  “Sorry, I lied. He’s not here — he’ll be coming on the helicopter,” Janet said.

  “Why the fuck did you do that?” Peace spat.

  “I don’t know — I just didn’t want you going back to the house to kill people while they slept.”

  “Fuck! I suppose killing hundreds of thousands — all innocent and maybe most of them asleep — shouldn’t concern us? Really, God help us!” Peace shook his head in horror and disbelief.

  The men returned to the house; it seemed they were not about to pursue the escapees. They had probably decided to wait for back up to arrive on the helicopter. Peace was adamant they should not move so, they huddled together as they waited.

  “What to do now?” Peace asked more to himself than for the others’ benefit.

  “There’s a holiday hotel maybe forty kilometres away. Every now and then in the winter, there’s enough snow to ski and a few guests arrive. Very basic, of course,” Janet volunteered.

  “How would we get there?” he asked.

  “There’s hardly a road — just a track really, not for cars but maybe scramblers.”

  “Walking forty k’s in this terrain — pretty hazardous, I think. Isn’t there any transport we could use?” Peace countered.

  “No, not really, except some special motorcycles the men mess around with,” she replied. “God, I’ve just realised, they could come after us on those bikes.”

  True — but if we can get hold of them, they will certainly come in handy.

  “What about food and water?” Cherry asked. He knew this was not a complaint as she would suffer without saying anything, but the question affected them all.

  “Food will be an issue for a while. We’ve got snow. But, if nature calls, you’ll have to find yourselves a big rock to hide behind.” The faintest chuckle escaped his lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  An hour later, they heard the throb of rotors in the distance. As the helicopter approached, Peace felt for the wind, checking its direction, knowing the aircraft would approach against it. This would mean that the helicopter would fly virtually directly overhead to get to the landing area. They scrambled to find a better hiding place. He positioned himself against a rock buttress and prepared an anti-tank weapon. It was a relatively easy operation — he only had to charge the scope and remove the projectile cover from the rocket-launcher.

  The whap-whap grew louder and soon the copter came into view. He immediately recognised it — an Aerospatiale Puma, and it was an enormous target. Although still at a distance, he examined it carefully, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. The huge sliding doors were open, revealing a heavy calibre Browning .50 inch M2 machine-gun — a most formidable weapon. Christ! So, they had the machine-gun somewhere after all — this was a bloody massacre in the making!

  A helmeted man crouched behind it, traversing the barrel from side to side just looking for an opportunity to open fire. Word must have been sent that they’d escaped with weapons. The hunt was surely on.

  He dropped behind the rocks again. “Hell! This is fuckin’ bad,” he exclaimed under his breath.

  The helicopter flew at low altitude over them, about fifty yards to their left. He took a deep breath, hefted the rocket-launcher to his shoulder, and rose until he could see over the natural parapet. The helicopter was now two hundred yards away, moving slowly forward at no more than what appeared to be a walking pace, slowly approaching the landing site. He brought his eye to the telescope, the aircraft dancing in the sights as he tried to steady it, trying to get the crosshairs onto it, his finger seeking the trigger.

  Suddenly, the air was rent by the sharp staccato bark of the machine-gun. He dropped to the ground just in time; a fusillade of shots struck the rocks, showering them with splinters, the ricochets buzzing past them in all directions. He placed the rocket-launcher next to the other on the ground.

  As soon as the firing stopped, he rose, and with the carbine on automatic, sent a full magazine of shots at the helicopter as it hovered a foot or two off the ground. He saw some of his shots impact, the gunner involuntary ducking down. The helicopter immediately spooled up and veered away, climbing out of range. Peace knew it must be preparing for another pass.

  “Cherry!” he shouted. “Quickly, I need you!”

  She rose to stand next to him.

  “Switch the carbine to automatic. As he approaches, open fire and aim at the machine-gun. You’re to keep him away from his gun while I’m aiming the LAW. Have you got that?”

  “I think I know what to do,” Cherry replied with a sigh of annoyance.

  He turned to Janet. “Janet, you stay down!”

  The helicopter had done a full circle and was again approaching, revealing its open side door and the machine-gun. He could see the gunner getting ready to fire, waiting to get in range and position so he could traverse the area with effective coverage.

  Peace rose. “Start shooting NOW!” he bellowed.

  Next to him, the carbine commenced firing. With the LAW back on his shoulder, he rose within a second, his eye glued to the scope, sweeping the sky for the helicopter. The moment the crosshairs found the aircraft, he squeezed. There was a loud whoosh. He was immediately encompassed in a pall of acrid smoke as the projectile launched from the tube and streaked across the sky towards the helicopter, leaving a trail of smoke. The pilot saw the projectile’s trail and took immediate evasive action, trying to swing the aircraft round. He was nearly successful, but Peace’s aim was true. The rocket slammed into the rear of the helicopter, hitting the tail-rotor. For some inexplicable reason, it did not explode, but passed straight through. Still, Peace saw part of the helicopter’s rear rotor disintegrate and the tail begin to swing. From what was happening it was evident the pilot was battling to retain control. However, this did not deter the gunner. Cherry’s rifle was silent; her magazine was empty.

  Peace watched the helicopter. As soon as the gunner had an open field of fire, he let loose again, the heavy .50 calibre machine-gun hammering away. Peace and Cherry dived to the ground. The bullets seemed to explode all around them.

  The Aerospatiale Puma thundered past overhead. Before he could stop her, Cherry rose, the reloaded rifle at her shoulder, and she emptied another magazine at the departing aircraft and shouted, “You bastards!”

  From the sounds coming from the helicopter, there seemed to be damage. It made no attempt at another pass but continued on to the makeshift helipad and soon settled.

  He knew the bomb was aboard. He’d give his eyeteeth for another shot at it with the one remaining rocket-launcher, but the plane was at the extremities of the rocket-launcher’s range and he was unlikely to achieve a hit. Besides, the helicopter was damaged — hopefully, it would not be flying for a while, or at least, not until repairs were carried out.

  “C’mon, let’s go. We’ve got to get out of here.” He started moving in a westerly direction.

  Janet grabbed his arm. “No, no. You can’t go that way; we have to follow the track. This will take us to the holiday ski hotel near here — that way there’s only a shepherd’s hut which is occasionally used by crazy mountain hikers. You can die here in the mountains if on foot. Rather stick to the track headi
ng to the hotel. Anyway, there’s no direct track to the shepherd’s place — the going will be extremely difficult cross-country. Besides, I’m not sure we’ll find any help there or another means out of the mountains from that remote spot,” she said firmly, pointing to where the track wound its way through the rocky outcrops.

  “Okay, but where does that other track lead to?” he asked pointing at a third track that led from the lodge and disappeared over the hill.

  “That’s a dead-end for us — as I said, we’re in Lesotho. The track leads to the Katse Dam, which they started building a few years ago. The dam has just started to fill but it’s slow. It needs the summer rains. The track used to end at the river’s edge, but that’s already under water. My father mentioned this a few weeks ago to me. We certainly don’t want to go there either,” Janet declared.

  He realised she knew best and probably knew the area, having undoubtedly accompanied her father on a few occasions in the past.

  The track soon dipped below the horizon, hiding them from direct sight of the farmhouse. It was no more than a pathway with small rocks and stones as a bed, the rain, over the years, having washed away all soil. A four-wheel-drive vehicle could have just navigated it, but only with difficulty, as there were numerous rock shelves, parallel gullies and washed-out ditches. The scrambler motorcycles came to mind. He realised why they had these at the house.

  Janet wasn’t wrong when she said they would be coming after them with the motorcycles. Soon, they could hear the throb and bark of their engines as the riders manoeuvred these down the trail. As the sound grew louder, Peace turned and waited for them to come into view. The moment they appeared in the distance, silhouetted against the grey sky, he opened fire. The front rider hastily turned around and disappeared, followed by his companion.

  “At least they cannot skirt around us in this terrain. It’s impassable, even to a motorcycle,” he said.

  Well, it rather evens the odds.

  He pondered the situation, hoping to find a way out of their dilemma. He knew that with the helicopter damaged, they could not fly the bomb out of there. The bomb still had to be on board, and it was not something that could simply be manhandled off the aircraft, but he was sure Van Rhyn had something in mind. He assumed Van Rhyn had to have been aboard the Aerospatiale Puma. It suddenly struck him — there was the other helicopter, the Denel Oryx job; the SAAF helicopter they had arrived on from Overberg. Surely they’d soon be using that! With a shock, he suddenly realised they could already be hauling the tarpaulin off the cockpit and getting it started.