The Colour of Gold

by Oliver T Spedding

  "Well done!" Shadow said. "Now, firstly, your friend Bogdan has been accepted into Umkhonto weSizwe so he'll have to disappear soon. I've arranged a safe house for him to stay in but before he goes underground you must get him to get us enough bomb parts for another four bombs. After we've used them we'll change our tactics. The enemy is getting wise to our ways and we need to change our methods of attracting attention to our struggle. Also get him to collect the dud detonators from the police. That way they won't realise that he's betrayed them until he's safely underground. Can you get us enough explosives for four more bombs?"

  "Yes." Isaiah replied. "I've already got enough stashed in my hiding place."

  "Excellent!" Shadow said. "Now, the second thing we need to discuss is something that I read in one of the newspapers. Apparently the authorities want to try to attract more shoppers to the Oriental Plaza shopping centre in Fordsburg so they're arranging for a group of dignitaries to visit the Centre in two weeks time. Amongst the dignitaries will be some top police security experts who will be there to assure the public that the complex is adequately protected. What I want to do is place a bomb in the Centre a day or two before the visit by the dignitaries. We'll place it somewhere where it will do a lot of visible damage but not endanger anyone's life. In that way we'll get a lot of publicity for the struggle."

  "Good idea." Isaiah said. "Who'll be in the team?"

  "You, me and that chap Bogdan." Shadow said. "He will drive the car and you and I will place the bomb. We'll do it late in the afternoon just before the Centre closes and we'll set the bomb to explode at midnight. What we have to do though, is work out how to get the bomb into the Plaza and where we'll place it. Perhaps we can use two of your disguises."

  "Yes." Isaiah said, grinning. "That will be fun."

  ***

  Bala Desai stepped off the train at Lenz station and dragged his new wheeled suitcase filled with newly altered and mended clothes towards the exit gate. Because of his injury he had had no option but to abandon his old suitcase and buy an expensive one with wheels that allowed him to drag if along behind him. It was already nearly eight o'clock in the evening and the coaches of the train had been packed, forcing him to stand for the entire journey. The wound in his stomach was still painful at times and after the long day that he had just got through it felt as if his stomach was on fire. He gritted his teeth and began to trudge along the dusty street to his little house. The wheels of the suitcase were small and this caused problems on rough uneven roads of Lenasia causing Bala to walk slower than normal to prevent the suitcase falling over.

  As Bala walked along the dusty street towards his home his mind went back to the first day that he'd gone back to his shop when he considered his wound sufficiently healed. The backlog of alterations had been depressing but he had set to work with a will, grateful that he was able to work at all and determined to reduce the backlog as quickly as possible. To do this and not disappoint his customers he had decided to work an extra two hours every evening after he closed the shop at five o'clock. Working this extra time meant that he always got home well after dark and sometimes, if the trains were delayed, after his beloved Salona had gone to bed. Fortunately the streets of Lenasia weren't as dangerous as those in Soweto where gangs of child psychopaths roamed throughout the night killing and maiming anything that moved.

  Fatima had been wonderful during his stay in hospital, working at her sewing machine at home while also cleaning the house, doing the washing and ironing, cooking meals and looking after Salona. On top of all this she still found time to visit Bala at the hospital every day. He shook his head in wonderment. He felt incredibly humbled to have such a willing and dedicated wife who never complained, was always cheerful and supported him in everything that he did.

  Now, ten days after he had returned to work, the backlog had been reduced to a more manageable level and the income that the business was generating was covering his expenses. He sensed that his customers had understood his predicament and made allowances and as a result he and Fatima had gone out of their way to satisfy their needs.

  Bala was also pleased to read in the newspaper that a group of dignitaries, including some high-ranking police officers would be visiting the Oriental Plaza shortly in an effort to promote the complex. The paucity of shoppers at the Plaza was very worrying to all the tenants, especially as the complex itself was very attractive with a pleasant laidback atmosphere and plenty of free parking. It also had a large variety of retailers and styles with a decidedly Indian origin.

  Bala reached his home and entered through the front door, dragging the suitcase across the floor and parking it in one corner as his beloved Salona came running to him.

  "Daddy!" she shouted excitedly. "You're home!"

  Bala picked up the little girl and hugged her tightly.

  "So, how's my precious little girl?" he asked.

  "We went to do some shopping today and mommy bought me this!" Salona said, showing Bala a beautifully beaded bracelet.

  "Wow! That is beautiful!" Bala exclaimed. "And what else did you do today?"

  "I helped mommy do the washing and while she was sewing on her machine I swept the kitchen floor with the broom." Salona said.

  "My, but you have been busy!" Bala said as Fatima walked into the lounge from the kitchen where she had been preparing their supper. He put Salona down gently and hugged his wife.

  "How was your day, my dearest?" she asked. "You look tired. Has your wound been worrying you? Come and sit down in the kitchen while a get our supper ready."

  "It's still a bit painful, especially later in the day." Bala said. "But it's getting better every day. But, if all goes well, I should have everything at the shop back to normal by the end of next week."

  "That will be nice." Fatima said as she began dishing their food onto the plates. "Then you can go back to working normal hours. I worry so about you travelling back on the train in the dark."

  "It's a little safer on the trains now." Bala said. "The Railway Company has begun deploying more guards on the trains. There have just been too many attacks lately for them to ignore the situation any longer. There was even a protest march in Soweto a few days ago. But, how was your day?"

  "Busy." Fatima said with a smile. "As Salona told you, we went shopping this morning. It's nice to see that more and more shops are opening in Lenasia and more and more people are settling here. I still miss Pageview though. There was such a lovely closeness amongst the people there that we don't have here."

  "Did you see any one that we knew in Pageview?" Bala asked.

  "Yes. I met old Mister Cajee." Fatima said. "It's so sad to see how he has deteriorated. His clothes are old and shabby, he doesn't shave regularly so his beard is shaggy and it looks as if he doesn't even bother to comb his hair anymore. He hardly recognised me when I spoke to him and we were neighbours for quite a long time. I think that he still misses his friend Mister Dhupelia very much as well as all his other friends and neighbours from Pageview."

  "Yes." Bala said with a sigh. "The older one gets the more difficult it is to adjust and cope with change, especially the traumatic changes that the government has forced on our people."

  ***

  "The visit to the Oriental Plaza by the group of dignitaries is scheduled to take place in two days time." Captain Tiaan Botha told Brigadier van Tonder as they sat in his office. "The mayor of Johannesburg will be the main dignitary and there will be representatives from the Department of Trade and Industry as well as Generals Piet Byleveldt and Jan Geldenhuis. I've already got men covering the whole area around the complex in plain clothe disguises and several snipers on some of the roofs of the surrounding buildings. They have strict orders not to engage with the enemy until I give the order though. It's vital that we take these bastards alive. The bomb will probably be in a suitcase, a cardboard box or a plastic shopping bag. The Yugoslav Vodnik informed me s few days ago that the enemy planned to make another four bombs and that he had ordered the necessary
parts. I then supplied him with four faulty detonators. Assuming that they use one, the bomb that they plant should be of little concern to us and we can focus on capturing the bastards."

  The Brigadier nodded.

  "But how do you plan to capture them?" he asked. "They're bound to be heavily armed and will very likely fight to the death."

  "Yes, that's the difficult part." the Captain said. "The whole exercise is pointless unless we can take them alive and force them to reveal who their superiors are. If we're going to kill them, then we might as well do it now."

  "So what are you going to do?" the Brigadier asked. "We can't continue with this operation without a definite plan."

  "The only way that we can subdue them with a minimum of injuries to them is to use stun grenades and electroshock guns." Tiaan said. "But the timing will have to be perfect and we have to be really close to them and immobilise them quickly when this happens. I've supplied each of my men with two stun grenades, a stun gun and a two-way radio. The guys will work as a team. As soon as the enemy team is detected my men will gather around the group and, at a given signal, will saturate the area where the enemy is so as to totally immobilise them."

  "You're quite right when you say that the timing will have to be perfect." van Tonder said. "If the bastards realise what's happening before it actually does happen, you could have a bloodbath."

  "Yes." Tiaan said. "The men have been practicing the procedure for almost a week now and they all have effective disguises so I think that we can pull it off."

  "What about backup?" van Tonder asked.

  "We'll have two cars on standby in case they manage to make a break." the captain replied. "I s there any chance of a chopper being on standby?"

  The Brigadier grimaced.

  "It all depends on what's happening at the time." he said. "There are always helicopters on standby but I can't give your operation priority. We'll just have to hope that nothing else is happening at the time."

  CHAPTER 13

  "I've reconnoitred the Oriental Plaza over the last few days." Shadow told Isaiah and Bogdan as the sat in the kitchen of the little safe house in Soweto. It was almost midnight and the three men had agreed to spend the night in the shack rather than risk being caught by the killer children who roamed the streets at night. Isaiah had arrived at the house disguised as a South Africa Railway's guard with a khaki uniform and cap while Bogdan wore a priest's robe.

  "All the shops close at five o'clock and, although the Centre stays open until ten, there are very few people there: mainly people window shopping. I've given a lot of thought to what we should put the bomb in. A suitcase is too obvious as is a plastic shopping bag. We need something that won't look too conspicuous."

  "What about delivering a parcel to the manager just before closing time?" Bogdan suggested. "Then it's likely to be left there until the following morning."

  "That might work." Shadow said. "But the manager may not accept the parcel. What I think that we should do is that Isaiah and I go to the Plaza disguised as cleaners. The real cleaners are contracted to the Plaza and do the cleaning early each morning. Bogdan, can you get us two of the cleaning company's overalls?"

  "Easily." Bogdan replied. "Just give me the name of the company."

  "Okay." Shadow said. "So, this is what I think we should do. We'll park the getaway car about two blocks from the Plaza and Isaiah, you and I will walk to the complex dressed in our overalls with buckets, mops and cleaning liquids. In the bottom of one of the buckets we'll hide the bomb under cleaning rags and bottles of cleaning fluid while the other bucket will have another bucket inside it. We'll thus be able to leave the Plaza with two buckets, having hidden the bucket with the bomb in it. Bogdan, you'll stay in the car with our AK47s. Any questions?"

  "Won't the police be suspicious if a cleaning team arrives in the evening instead of in the morning?" Bogdan asked.

  "I don't think so." Shadow said. "The police obviously work in shifts so the police on duty in the late afternoon are unlikely to know about the early morning cleaners."

  "Only two cleaners for the whole complex?" Isaiah asked.

  "No. We'll pretend that we're only cleaning the entrance areas." Shadow said. "There are only five entrances so we'll start at number one and move through the entrances until we come to entrance five and leave the bucket with the bomb in it somewhere along the line."

  Isaiah and Bogdan nodded in satisfaction.

  "It should work." Isaiah said.

  "Okay, so that's the plan." Shadow said. "Bogdan will get the overalls, Isaiah will get the buckets, mops and cleaning fluids and I'll arrange for a car and the AK47s. We'll hit the Oriental Plaza at five thirty and be out of there by seven."

  ***

  Warrant Officer Petrus van Wyk, disguised as a parking attendant, watched the two black men dressed in dark blue overalls and each carrying a white plastic bucket, a broom and a mop walk across the car park towards entrance one of the Oriental Plaza in Fordsburg. It was half past five and the car park was almost deserted. van Wyk sighed. It had been a long boring day and he looked forward to relaxing in the little pub at the Brixton police station where he was currently based. Looking out for a group of kaffirs carrying a suitcase or a plastic shopping bag into the Plaza was difficult to do while at the same time directing shoppers in and out of their parking spots. He shook his head in disgust. If you needed someone to guide you in and out of a parking space you shouldn't have a drivers licence. After all, how difficult was it to park a car?

  The only people that van Wyk had see carrying suitcases, plastic shopping bags and cardboard boxes had been leaving the Plaza; not going into it. The Captain had said that there was a possibility that the complex would be bombed by the black terrorists. Well, he thought, let them do it. The Plaza was for Indians, not for whites, even though he had seen quite a lot of white shoppers going into the building. Let the kaffirs blow the place up. The more Indians we get rid of the better, he thought.

  The floodlights in the car park flickered on as the daylight faded. van Wyk felt the two bulky stun grenades that he was carrying in the pockets of his trousers. They had been most uncomfortable, continually dragging down his trousers and forcing him to tighten his belt by two notches which made things even more uncomfortable as his STAR PD single action ,45 was tucked into his belt in the small of his back and it pressed painfully against his spine wherever he moved. Silently he cursed the war that they were fighting to save the country from communism. What on earth made the kaffirs think that they could run the country better than the whites did? They couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery, but now they wanted to show the whites how the country should be run. All they would do is fuck up the whole place and then the whites would have to step in and fix everything. Kaffirs couldn't build things; all they could do was break things. They should be grateful for what the whites had done for them ever since van Riebeek landed in the Cape. They now had schools and some of them even had electricity and running water and there was plenty of work for them on the mines. Well, if he came across these terrorist bombers he would be sorely tempted to kill the bastards even though the Captain had told him not to do anything else but report their presence.

  Van Wyk watched the two cleaners disappear into the Plaza. He moved across the area until he was in a position to watch them. They put down their equipment and began mixing the cleaning liquids in one of the buckets. Once this was done they began to slowly clean the floor. Lazy bastards! Van Wyk thought. At the rate they were working it would take them a whole year to clean the complex.

  Just then he heard someone whistle. He turned and saw a man holding up a coin in his hand. He hurried to the shopper.

  "I shouldn't give you a tip." the man said angrily. "You're supposed to be watching over our cars and you're daydreaming instead. Did I wake you up?"

  Van Wyk was just about to tell the man what he could do with his tip when he remembered that he was on duty and had to behave like a subservient car park attendan
t.

  "Sorry, sir." he said. "It's been a long day and I was watching some suspicious-looking men who might have been intending to steal a car."

  "Yea, right." the man said and walked away to his car.

  Warrant officer van Wyk walked back to where he had been standing watching the two cleaners. To his surprise they were no longer there. That's strange, he thought. Surely they couldn't have finished the whole area in such a short time. He reached for his two-way radio.

  ***

  Shadow and Isaiah mopped the floor at entrance three in the Oriental Plaza. They had just hidden the plastic bucket containing the bomb in a metal rubbish bin that was unlikely to be emptied until the cleaners arrived the following morning, and were preparing to leave the complex. As they placed their equipment against the wall of the entrance area Shadow glanced into the interior of the shop next to where he and Isaiah were standing. The shop was a tailors and he was surprised to see the Indian owner still at work at the back of the shop. He turned to Isaiah.

  "Okay, let's get out of here." he whispered. "There's no point in staying here any longer."

  Isaiah nodded. "Shouldn't we take the equipment with us?"

  "Yes, I suppose we should." Shadow replied. "If we leave it here it may raise suspicions and cause the police to search the place."

  As the two men began to gather up their equipment Shadow looked out of the entrance towards the car park and froze with shock. A yellow police van had just screeched to a halt in the car park opposite the entrance and armed policemen in camouflage dress were climbing out of the back. He turned quickly and looked back into the Plaza. Three white policemen, two in uniforms and one in plain clothes and holding automatics in their hands were standing watching them. Shadow could also see that the men held what looked like stun grenades in their other hands. A movement next to him attracted his attention and he saw the Indian tailor step out of his shop pulling a wheeled suitcase behind him and turn to lock the door of the shop, completely unaware of what was happening near him.