Cashback

by Duncan James

  ***

  Will and Bonkers got there just after four. When the dust had settled, and they had made sure there was nobody else about, they got out of the Volvo to stretch their legs. There wasn't a sound, apart from the usual noises of the birds and insects you find in the bush.

  "Look out for snakes," Will warned Bonkers. "I don't like snakes."

  "They don't like you, either," replied Bonkers. "You're bigger than they are."

  They strolled up the old landing strip.

  "Someone's in for a bumpy landing on this stuff," commented Bonkers, kicking stones as he went.

  He stooped to pick up one of them. He looked at it closely, rubbing it with his thumb. He spat on it, rubbed it again, and buffed it on the seat of his jeans.

  "Here! Just look at this, Will," said Bonkers.

  The two squinted at it.

  "Bloody hell," said Will. "That just could be a gold nugget, you know!"

  "Just what I was thinking," said Bonkers. "Let's look for some more like this."

  "Let's not," said Will, as they both heard the sound of an approaching plane.

  Bonkers stuffed the stone into the pocket of his jeans, and the two ran back to the car. No need for headlights; it wouldn't be dark for nearly an hour yet. They watched the small aircraft getting larger and larger as it approached. It was heading straight for them and zoomed past very low indeed, dipping one wing in salute. They ducked involuntarily, as it banked sharply into a left hand turn, the wing tip almost brushing through the tops of the thorn trees. It lined up again on the rough airstrip, marked out with large stones and old oil barrels, and touched down in a swirl of dust at the far end. It bounced across the uneven surface, and turned at the end of the strip before coming to a stop a short distance from them, covering them in a choking cloud of sand and small stones.

  Two figures emerged from the swirling dust, one of whom they recognised as Tiger. His face, too, was half covered by a scarf. He had a backpack over one shoulder of his camouflaged jacket, and a black briefcase under the other arm. The other man, in RAF cap, must be White-knuckles, concluded Will.

  "You stay here by the car, in case of trouble," said Will to Bonkers, and strode off to meet the new arrivals.

  "This is White-knuckles," said Tiger, jerking a thumb towards the pilot, who saluted lazily.

  "Sorry about the dust," he said. "The runway has obviously not been swept today!"

  "This is yours, I think," said Tiger, holding out the briefcase. "Better have a look inside to make sure it's what you are expecting."

  The case wasn't locked, and under papers and files, the men saw a dozen or so small leather poky-bags, drawn together with leather laces and carefully sealed. Each bore a printed label carrying the name of the owner. They could tell by the feel of the things that they contained the diamonds. Plenty of small stones, and a few rather larger ones, but nothing you would call big.

  "This is it, all right," said Will. "Thanks," he added, rather lamely.

  "Don't mention it," said Tiger. "It's been a pleasure. What about our cash?"

  Will took a numbered key from his pocket, and handed it over.

  "Left luggage locker at Bulawayo station," he said.

  "How can I trust you?" asked Tiger.

  "I've trusted you," replied Will. "And we've both got Group Captain Bowman to go to if either of us finds we've been double crossed."

  Tiger grinned, and put the key into the pocket of his denims.

  "Where are your wheels?" he asked.

  "Over there." Will nodded towards the bush at the end of the dirt strip.

  "Who are those two blokes on a motor bike?" asked Tiger.

  "Where?" Will was puzzled.

  "In the bush, about halfway down the strip, over there." He pointed. "We saw them on the way in."

  "Nothing to do with me," said Will. "I hadn't noticed them. Nothing to do with your operation, then?"

  "Nothing."

  "They're there all right," confirmed the pilot. "Saw them with my own lovely blue eyes."

  "Very odd," said Tiger, frowning. "Don't often get tourists here. We'll sort them out on the way home, I think, Knuckles."

  "Good idea," said White-knuckles. "We could bomb them," he added with renewed enthusiasm.

  "No bombs," replied Tiger.

  "Damn," said White-knuckles. "Hand grenades then. You could lie flat on the floor with the door open, and lob them out while I do a low pass over them."

  "No grenades, either," said Tiger.

  "I said we should bring grenades," protested the pilot.

  "We'll take care of them on the way home," repeated Tiger.

  "I'm driving by the way, when we get to the vehicle."

  "Not after the way you flew here, you're not," insisted Tiger. "Which reminds me that we had better do something about our passengers, and the aeroplane, before we're discovered."

  He turned to shake hands with Will.

  "Leave the rest to us," he said. "You get on your way."

  He turned, and, with the pilot, dragged the two men from the plane, and across to the side of the runway.

  "I said that we would do you no harm," Tiger reminded them, taking an evil looking knife from his belt. "You can cut yourselves free with this, if you can find it," he said, and tossed it into the bush. "I hope you've been taught how to belly-crawl with your hands tied behind your back."

  The two men said nothing. The gaffer tape was still covering their mouths, but their eyes spoke volumes. They were not happy men, the pilot in his smart shirt with the tin badge, and the President's courier, who both now knew that the head of state had double-crossed them, and many others besides.

  "And here's something to keep you going on the walk home," added Tiger, taking two water bottles from his haversack, which he threw down beside the men. "This is not the way we usually do things, but it's what the President wanted, so ?" He shrugged.

  "Bulawayo is that way," he said as an afterthought, pointing in totally the wrong direction.

  White-knuckles, meanwhile, had been busy disabling the aircraft, yanking the radio out and generally making sure the men wouldn't be able to call for help. He took out his Smith and Wesson, and put a bullet through each of the tyres on the tricycle undercarriage, before finally opening the fuel drain cocks.

  "Enjoy the walk, lads," he said cheerfully to the men on the ground. "I still think we should put a bullet through the fuel tank and blow the thing up," he said to Tiger.

  "They'd see the smoke for miles around. We need a bit of time to get away from here, so leave it. They can't use it."

  The two mercenaries disappeared into the bush to find their getaway Landrover. "Don't forget I'm driving," said White-knuckles

  By then, Will was back at the Volvo.

  "Got them," he said to Bonkers, waving the briefcase. "But we must dirty this up a bit - it looks far too new."

  He threw it to the ground, and scuffed his boots over it on both sides.

  "That's better," he said. "Now let's get out of here."

  They heard the shots.

  Will froze.

  "Surely to God they haven't shot the pilot and the courier. They said they wouldn't get hurt."

  "There were three shots, and only two blokes," observed Bonkers.

  "Perhaps it's the two men on the motor bike then. They spotted two men on a motor bike lurking near the landing strip, and said they'd take care of them on the way home," explained Will.

  "Not three shots," said Bonkers. "They are too professional to need three bullets to dispose of two blokes. But let's not hang around arguing. Whatever it was, there's nothing we can do, so let's get going."

  They drove off in the Volvo towards the Plumtree road, but saw no sign of anyone - the men on the motorbike, the pilot and his passenger, or the two mercenaries. Only the disabled Cessna stood abandoned on the end of the dirt strip.

  They reached the junction with the road to the border, outside Plumtree, just before it got dark, and pulled over onto the v
erge. Will rang the Defence Attache at the British Embassy on his mobile.

  "Hello, Will," said Bowman. "How's things?"

  "Fine," replied Will. "Just thought I'd let you know that we've got the diamonds, thanks to your contact. We shall be across the border soon, and I plan to stay down on my father's farm in the Cape when we get there."

  "Well, good luck, and thanks for all you've done in the past," replied Bowman. "Did you have any bother getting the gems?"

  "It didn't seem any trouble at all, so far as the chaps who did the work were concerned. They've already disappeared into the bush, literally. No doubt you'll hear all about it," said Will. "By the way," he added, "you might like to know that we are putting it about that the whole thing was arranged by the head of state, who decided he wanted all the diamonds for himself. That was to protect our sources."

  "If I may say so," said Bowman, "that was a very clever idea. It might actually do rather more than that, when all his cronies realise that the President has double-crossed them. That could spell real trouble for him, which he will find difficult to wriggle out of this time."

  "I'm sure we'll read about it down south if anything dramatic does happen," replied Will. "But since I shall be staying down there, I wondered if you wanted to disconnect this link between us."

  "No need," replied the attache. "It's more trouble than it's worth, so let's keep it live in case you ever pick up any useful gossip. If not, it will be nice just to keep in touch."

  They did not have to wait much longer before a battered white van pulled up behind them, bearing the legend,

  KIPLING BANGURA ENGINEERING CO.

  ANYTHING MENDED AND SPEARS SUPPLIED.

  A grinning Mr. Bangura appeared. They opened the rear door, and threw the briefcase on top of all the other junk inside.

  "You leave first, and go ahead of us," said Will, "and we'll meet you at the motel in Francistown, as we arranged."

  "You may get there before I do," said Mr. Bangura. "I shall stop for a chat and a mug of tea with my friends at the border posts, and I have a small packet of tobacco for them as a treat."

  "Take your time," said Will. "And use the small phone I gave you if you have any problems."

  Kipling drove off into the dusk and a new life, with Will and Bonkers about half an hour behind him. They met up in Francistown as planned.?

  20. THE LAST LAUGH?

  Will and Bonkers sat on the terrace sipping their root beer, as they often did after a hard day in the fields. Not that they had worked much for the last few days, since Robin and Marian were staying at the Bartlett's bungalow, at the invitation of Will's parents, James and Beatrice.

  And they had also been glued to the television, following the rapid developments taking place 'back home' for which, it seemed, they had been largely responsible.

  It was the diamonds that had finally proved too much. As soon as it became known within the Government in Harare and among the President's closest allies and friends, that he had apparently hijacked their last remaining vestiges of wealth, all hell was let loose. It was not, in the end, the weight of popular protest among the people of the country that brought about the downfall of the Government, but the President's own perceived greed.

  Although, for once, he was innocent, the circumstantial evidence that he had double-crossed them all was overwhelming. It had been his idea to bring together all the diamonds that he and his cronies had collected over the years. It had been his idea to send them to South Africa for safekeeping, and it had been he who had made all the arrangements. Now, it seemed from witnesses, he had also arranged for the diamonds to be hijacked so that he could have them all for himself. The pilot and the courier both said so, and so did the men in the control tower. The people who the President had hired to do the job had actually told them, so there could be no doubt about it. And one of the staff in his outer office had also said, under questioning, that he had heard talk in the office of such a plot being hatched. So there it was.

  The President had fled the country, and most of his Ministers had followed suit. Those who hadn't or couldn't, resigned, and the Attorney General had taken it upon himself to swear in, as President, a retired Commander-in-Chief of the Army who had been a life-long opponent of the regime and who, in the days of Ian Smith before UDI, had attended the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. The opposition parties were asked to form an interim Government, pending democratically run and internationally supervised elections, which were promised within six months.

  What had been popular protest quickly turned into nationwide rejoicing, with crowds singing and dancing in the streets, mostly joined by the Army and Police as well.?? Some of them were even brave enough to wave Union Jacks. Even one or two of the aid agencies had decided to start their programmes again, and the United Nations met to discuss whether or not to lift sanctions.

  Will leant forward for his glass. The old rocking chair creaked, as it had always done, even at the old farm. One day, he'd fix it, but somehow it was as much a part of their new life as the chair had been a part of their old one. For as long as Will could remember, that chair had always been on the veranda, alongside the old wicker table, and it had always made that noise.

  "One day, I'll fix this chair," he said to Bonkers.

  Bonkers grinned.

  "I doubt it," he said. "Your father never did!"

  Robin and Marian joined them, and old Mrs Bartlett brought out another jug of her homemade root beer and two more glasses.

  "We've had a wonderful day," said Marian. "Just pottering about in this lovely countryside. And we took good care of you car, Will," she added. "It's so kind of you to let us use it on our holiday. Considering its age, it goes very well and is still very comfortable."

  "Old Bangura knows what he's doing, all right. He isn't such a bad engineer," replied Will, looking across the large garden to the outbuildings in the yard beyond, where the bright blue flame of Kipling's welding torch flickered in the evening light.

  "I'm glad he agreed to come with us," said Bonkers. "He's taken on a new lease of life."

  "Any news from home?" Will asked Robin.

  "Not since yesterday," replied Robin. "But it was great to hear that the Bank of England had signed up at last. I'm sure there will soon be other banks wanting the software now."

  "Then the money starts rolling in, I suppose," said Bonkers.

  "I hope so," said Robin. "We've a lot of other new products under development, and they all cost money for research."

  "I think we shall soon need to expand, too," said Marian, wearing her administrator's hat. "New staff will mean new offices."

  "And increased costs," added Robin. "But let's not talk about work - we're having a break. This is supposed to be the second half of our gap year, which you two ?" he pointed at Will and Bonkers, "? interrupted all those months ago!"

  "What about the diamonds?" asked Will. "Any news about them yet?"

  "Any day now, I should think," replied Robin. "My father managed to get them to a dealer in Amsterdam through the Dutch bank my old Aunt used, and they will have been there nearly a week now."

  "After all the trouble we took to get the damn things, I'm keen to know what they're worth."

  "Not just trouble," said Bonkers. "It was a considerable threat to our personal safety, too. You don't realise the risks we took and the dangers we faced!" said Bonkers.

  "You know very well you both thoroughly enjoyed your little adventure," said Marian. "You haven't stopped bragging about it, and every time, the story gets embellished a bit more!"

  She turned to Robin. "You know, we should have told that pompous old fart Monsieur Gilbert, in Switzerland, that he was about to get a few more millions deposited in his precious bank!" she joked.

  "He would certainly have called you Lady FitzWalter again, that's for sure," said Robin with a chuckle.

  Marian giggled? - it was infectious.

  Will laughed, and said, "You never did properly tell us about Switzerland, your L
adyship."

  Robin roared with laughter. "It really was the funniest thing."

  "When you think about it," chortled Bonkers, "we've really all had quite a lot of fun since we met."

  Suddenly they were all reminiscing, and the more they talked, the more they laughed.

  "I must tell you how I became a spy for the British Government," choked Will, with tears running down his face. "You wouldn't believe it! And I've still got my own personal top secret satellite link." He fell about laughing, waving his mobile phone in the air.

  "And I'll tell you how we robbed the Bank of England without them knowing anything about it," guffawed Robin. "And then we gave it all back to them, and they still didn't have a clue what was going on!"

  They all roared with laughter.

  "And what about that SAS bloke who called himself Tiger?" said Bonkers. "You never in all your life saw a litre of beer downed so fast. It was unbelievable!"

  "Any more of that grog, mother?" shouted Will. "We're laughing ourselves hoarse out here."

  The laughter and hilarity reached such a pitch that Will's mother became quite worried. She sniffed suspiciously at the root beer jug.

  "Do you think I've done something wrong with this brew?" she asked James Bartlett, peering out on to the veranda. "I've never known it have this effect before."

  "Let me have another glass, and I'll tell you," replied James.

  "I think you've had quite enough already," scolded Beatrice, "I don't want you getting into that state."

  She peered out on to the veranda again. "And I think they've had enough too, if you ask me."

  "They're only young, so let them enjoy themselves," said James. "They've been working hard recently, and we have a lot to thank them for, after all."

  She sniffed the empty jug again, re-filled it and took it out to the now hysterical friends on the veranda.

  Robin's mobile phone rang.

  "Sorry about this," he excused himself. "Could just be some news."

  He left the veranda and strolled into the garden out of earshot. His friends heard nothing, until he shouted, "WHAT?" and put his hand to his forehead in a gesture of exasperation. He talked on for a minute or two, and eventually put the phone back into his pocket. He stood in silent contemplation for a moment, before turning to walk back to the bungalow.

  "You won't believe this," he said, when he rejoined his friends. "My father was on the phone. He's heard from Amsterdam."

  "And?" asked Will.

  "And the diamonds are fakes, that's what. Every last one of them, bits of worthless costume jewellery."

  There was a stunned silence, and suddenly the jollity stopped,

  "I'll be damned," said Will eventually.

  "After all that, too," said Bonkers sadly.

  "Just like your gold nugget; fools gold, after all- iron pyrites," said Will.

  "But where are the real diamonds?" asked Marian. "Who's got those?"

  "Could Tiger have done a switch?" asked Bonkers.

  "No way," replied Will. "They were in those individual poky-bags, each sealed with wax and an official emblem of some sort embossed into them."

  "Perhaps the President's still got them after all," suggested Marian.

  "Or perhaps there never were any," said Will.

  Robin sipped his root beer thoughtfully, and looked out across the lawns and the rose garden to the outbuildings beyond. He noticed that there was no sparkling blue flame from Kipling Bangura's welding torch across the yard, and that he was talking to two men on a motorbike.

  "I think I know," he said quietly. "Yes. I think I know."?

  ***

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR?

  Duncan James was an RAF pilot before eventually reaching the higher levels of the British Civil Service, in a career that included top-level posts at home and abroad with the Defence Ministry, and work with the Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard.

  A life-long and compulsive writer, he has produced everything from Government statements, Ministerial briefing papers, media announcements and reference books.?? As a public affairs consultant and freelance author, he was a prolific writer of magazine articles on a wide variety of subjects, as well as short stories.

  Cashback is the first of a trilogy of novels, and was first published in 2007.