‘That’s what I thought. But it makes me look guilty. I don’t know what to do.’
‘We’ll have to tell the authorities. Because that means the sheikh acted alone – it was a suicide bombing. He must have set the whole thing up himself.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Whew, I think everyone was getting worried. Even I was wondering about that call to the sheikh.’
‘I still feel I let everyone down. I was used. Right at the end, he still used me for his own selfish purpose.’ Ruslan was momentarily distracted by the low-fuel warning light.
‘You see it as selfish? Won’t some see him as a martyr?’
‘He would probably want to be remembered as one. Killing is a small matter if it exalts Allah.’ Ruslan tapped the accelerator and the s600 glided past the truck effortlessly.
Masondo touched the screen of his BlackBerry and smiled. The old Russian had come through for him. There were four attachments, all scanned documents, all official-looking and all but one in what Masondo assumed was Russian. He sent the documents to his printer and asked Nandi to bring them over to him. The first, a birth certificate, giving details of the nursing home the subject was born in and the birth weight. The second was a document which appeared to be a discharge letter from the army. Masondo put it aside and looked at the third, which was a copy of a passport showing a man in his late thirties with a deep scar running the length of his face. He didn’t remember Shabalala ever mentioning Ruslan having a scar. The final document was a letter written in English and addressed to the Minister of Home Affairs in South Africa, in which a commissar called Vladimir Makarov certified that Ruslan was a qualified marine engineer who had been offered a job at a shipping company in Durban. ‘General,’ Masondo said into his phone, ‘the second document you sent me, I can’t understand what it says.’
‘Your friend was wounded in the Soviet-Afghanistan conflict. He was a tank commander, honourably discharged in 1991. It seems he lost a leg.’
Amina touched the door to Tanveer’s flat and was surprised to see it was open. She pushed it a little more and called his name, cautiously looking into the dark apartment. Siraj was getting heavy in her arms and she awkwardly slipped her cellphone from her jeans pocket. She dialled Tanveer’s cellphone number. After a few seconds she heard the phone ringing inside softly until it stopped and she heard it go to voicemail. She called his name again and hesitantly stepped inside, feeling the wall for a light switch, but not finding one. A subdued light still came through the window from outside and she could see that the lounge area was vacant. Dirty dishes lay in the sink. She walked towards the bedroom, her foot kicking a plastic juice bottle. A set of keys lay on the floor next to an advertising supplement from a newspaper. She laid Siraj down on his bed and called Tanveer’s name again. She tried Durant’s number, but his phone was off. The door to the other bedroom was slightly ajar and Amina used the toe of her takkie to push it open. ‘Hello?’ Then she gasped and felt cold. Tanveer lay on the floor, awkwardly, his left arm lying under his body and his head cocked to the side. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his back was slightly arched. ‘Arshad?’ Amina said softly, feeling his wrist for a pulse. She felt a shock go through her body from her fingers that touched him, a jolt that made her mouth go dry and her heart rate accelerate all in a matter of a second. Tanveer was dead. Horror gave way to a momentary spark of realisation: Siraj would be her child. No, she had to force that thought from her mind for now. What had happened? She wondered how long the process of adoption would take. No, again, no. She was disgusted with the thoughts that flooded her mind, selfish thoughts while Siraj’s father lay dead at her feet. There was no sign of a struggle. What had killed him? It was as if he had just fallen down, right where he was. She had to get Siraj out of there. She backed out of the room into the lounge and in the near-darkness felt herself touch another human being who had walked into the flat. The person grabbed her awkwardly and she screamed and he shouted and only then she realised it was Durant and she clutched onto him, her body jerking now as tears came to her eyes.
‘What happened?’ Durant asked, urgency in his voice. ‘The door was wide open.’
Amina couldn’t get any words out and pointed to the bedroom where she’d found Tanveer. ‘Can I go and see? Will you be okay if I leave you for one second?’
She nodded and Durant went in. He didn’t have to check for a pulse; he could see Tanveer was dead. His eyes were fixed and glazed over, his lips a dark blue. He went back into the lounge area and took Amina’s arm. ‘Can I borrow your cellphone?’
‘Is he . . .?’
Durant nodded. ‘He is. You found him like this?’
‘Yes. Just as you see him. What happened? Can you tell?’
‘No, not really. Your phone, please.’
She gave it to him and he dialled 10111.
After a minute, he gave Amina’s phone back to her. ‘Are the police coming?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Don’t know how long before they get here, though.’
‘Let me take Siraj and let’s get out of here,’ she said.
Durant shook his head. ‘This is a crime scene. You found the body. I don’t know if we should leave.’
‘Fine then.’ She spun on her heels. ‘You stay. I’m going. I’m taking some fresh clothes for Siraj and I’m going back home. If the police want to talk to me, they’ll find me there.’
Durant shrugged. ‘I need your phone again. I need to call Mr Masondo. Ask him to sort this out. And I need to find Cedric.’
Amina thought Durant seemed too calm. Perhaps he was relieved as she was that Tanveer was dead. Neither would ever admit this though. Emergencies were his thing. He was a medic; he’d seen plenty of dead bodies. It was harder for her. She heard Durant on the phone in the lounge and went to Siraj’s cupboard. The door was broken and the enamel peeled off, but she was relieved to see the clothes inside were neat and clean. They were the clothes she’d bought with Mariam a few weeks before. Durant carried Siraj and they were back at the Land Rover a minute later.
‘I need to meet Mr Masondo. I told him about Tanveer.’
Amina threw the baby bag onto the back seat. ‘Was he shocked?’
‘He told me something more shocking. They suspect Ruslan, a guy Cedric’s been dealing with. Cedric’s with him now and no one can get hold of him.’
‘Where are you meeting Mr Masondo?’
Durant climbed into the Land Rover’s cab. ‘At that garage close to Sibaya. Nandi’s driving him.’
Durant turned to Amina. ‘You can go home, or you can come with me.’
‘What do you think of the car, Reno?’
‘I see the outside was damaged quite badly in the blast. I guess you were lucky to be inside.’
‘I am sorry the air conditioner isn’t working any more. I think some shrapnel must’ve damaged the radiator.’
‘It’s hot in here.’
‘I apologise. But we are fortunate to have a few extras in this car.’ Ruslan flipped open the refrigerator console and handed Shabalala a plastic bottle of berry-flavoured water. ‘Please. Some refreshing water.’
Shabalala took the bottle from Ruslan. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it. Did you not suspect the sheikh at all? You worked so closely with him.’
‘He kept a lot from me. I knew he had contacts all over the world. I never suspected they were terrorists. Sometimes only a few people can do a lot of harm. The Quran says “if there are twenty among you with determination, they will vanquish two hundred; if there are a hundred, they will slaughter a thousand unbelievers.” I always thought the sheikh preferred the life on this earth to Paradise, but I was wrong.’
He turned the s600 into a filling station off the road and stopped at the pumps. ‘I’ll be right back. I need to use the facility. Tell them to fill it up please.’ In the distance, the lights of the Sibaya casino complex sparkled against the night sky. Shabalala had no way of knowing that close to Sibaya was another petrol station and Nandi had just
turned Masondo’s bmw into the forecourt and stopped outside the shop.
Durant arrived a minute later, wishing they had rather made the journey in Amina’s car and not the Land Rover. Amina wished the same thing.
‘Come and meet Nandi,’ he said to her. ‘And let’s hear what the chief has.’
Amina hesitated for a second. Perhaps she should have just gone home. This was work, it was Kevin’s battle, Masondo’s fight, she was just a civilian now, and she had to think of Siraj. She couldn’t be so reckless any more. And Ahmed. What would he say when she came home late? With that thought, she knew she’d made the right decision. She belonged here. This was her fight too.
Nandi gave a firm handshake. ‘My dad respects you,’ she said. ‘You’re quite a team.’
Amina smiled. They were quite a team. ‘We’re here to help,’ she said. ‘That’s what teams do.’
Masondo wound down his window. ‘Get in,’ he said, ‘let’s talk.’ Durant got into the driver’s seat.
‘Bizarre,’ Durant said. ‘Tanveer’s lying dead on the floor of his flat. I mean, unbelievable.’
‘What happened? Was there blood?’
‘No, no blood, no marks on him at all. It actually looks more like . . . a heart attack or something.’
‘You can tell just by looking at his body? Are you a pathologist as well, or just a paramedic?’
‘Pinprick pupils. May have been a drug overdose, hard to say without a proper look.’
‘I can’t get hold of Shabalala now. His phone just rings. First you, now him. Don’t we subsidise your phone on the condition it’s always on?’
‘Yes, sir. My battery just went stone dead. I don’t know about Ced. His was on earlier.’
‘This is unacceptable. I’m going to charge him for this. He’s got me stressing, and I don’t like stressing over my people.’
‘You said he was going to see Ruslan?’
‘Yes. The problem is Ruslan isn’t Ruslan.’
‘Sorry?’
Masondo touched the screen on his BlackBerry and showed Durant the documents from the general. Durant bit his lip as he read. ‘How did you get this?’
‘Old friend in Moscow. KGB training in the 1980s had long-term benefits. So it looks as though this fellow Ruslan – the real Ruslan – came to South Africa to work and this imposter took over his identity.’
‘So Ruslan’s the key. It all makes sense. He must have killed Tanveer.’
‘He’s removing everyone who was involved.’
‘All the people he used along the way. Mariam, Khalid, Tanveer.’
‘No one left except—’
‘Only Cedric left,’ Durant said, his mouth dry.
Masondo answered his phone. ‘Yes? Yes. Okay.’ He slapped the dashboard with his hand. ‘I sent someone to Tanveer’s flat to meet the police there. They searched the flat and found explosives hidden in a cupboard. Commercial type.’
‘It’s been there all the time? We’ve been to that flat. Amina’s been to that flat a few times. How did we miss that?’
‘It was hidden. We never suspected Tanveer anyway, till now.’
Nandi appeared at the car window. ‘I might be able to help you guys.’
Masondo raised an eyebrow. ‘With what darling?’
‘With finding Cedric.’
Durant noticed the furrows in Masondo’s forehead deepen. ‘How?’
‘He’s got another cellphone. I’ve got the number.’
‘How would . . .?’ Masondo’s voice trailed away. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat and looked up at Nandi. ‘Talk.’
‘He’s got a phone that I speak to him on.’
‘I see.’ Masondo sounded heartbroken. Perhaps not so much because Nandi was talking to Shabalala surreptitiously on another phone, but because he wasn’t able to discover the deceit that was happening in his very house. ‘I’m disappointed, of course. But I can’t deal with this now.’
‘I’m sorry, Dad. I was going to tell you.’
‘Call him. No, I’ve got a better idea. I’ll send you the email I got from Moscow. You forward it to Mr Shabalala. Let him see for himself.’
Nandi put her hand on her father’s arm. ‘I pray he’s okay.’
‘Why have you only mentioned the other phone now?’ Masondo asked.
‘I’m sorry, I was trying to build up the courage, I’m so sorry.’
‘Send him that email now.’
TWENTY
Ruslan turned the Mercedes back onto the freeway and smoothly accelerated to 130 kilometres per hour. ‘She’s so slick. I’m going to miss this car, and I’m going to miss talking to you, Reno.’
‘We’ll stay in touch, Ruslan. We’ll keep contact. I need to call in this latest info. Can you take me back to my car now?’
‘Yes, I could.’ The flavoured water bottle in Shabalala’s hand was more than half empty. ‘Just one last bit of business to take care of.’
‘Well, I won’t tag along. I’ve got a lot to do. We’ll meet again soon. I need to get this info to my boss. It’s important.’
‘You’ll have to tag along, Reno, I insist.’
Shabalala looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little dizzy actually. My head’s spinning.’
‘Yes. Ruslan is dead.’
‘What?’
‘Ruslan doesn’t exist. He’s dead.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Ruslan was a homeless man, a Chechen immigrant who came to Durban hoping for some work, but he was disabled and no one wanted him. He became a beggar.’
Shabalala felt perspiration on his forehead, and it didn’t feel normal. The car’s interior temperature was rising fast. ‘I still don’t understand. What are you telling me?’
‘I want to thank you for your help. Without you, without your organisation, we wouldn’t have succeeded.’
‘We? You mean the attack?’ The words struck Shabalala like shrapnel, penetrating deep. Ruslan was part of this?
‘The mission, yes.’
‘You were involved?’ Shabalala pressed his handkerchief against his forehead. His breathing was rapid, his hands trembled. An agent is never trusted completely. They lie, they exaggerate information, even concoct intelligence. But this was different. This was complete betrayal.
‘The army of Allah is universal. Its soldiers are everywhere.’
‘You’re a terrorist.’
‘I’m not a terrorist. I despise that word. I am a soldier, a mujahedeen.’
‘You set this whole thing up; you did it. It makes sense now.’
‘Does it? The fact that we recruited Tanveer and used his hatred to benefit our cause? Yes. You fell into our traps time and time again. It was Tanveer who led you to the IAC. The centre was never involved in anything. The sheikh, that poor idealistic fool Mohammed – all used. The goal was to strike against the West.’
‘You’ve planned this for years.’
‘Opportunities dictated the direction of the operation.’
‘You failed. After all that, you failed. The Secretary of State survived.’
‘Did we? I think it was you who failed.’
‘You killed innocent people.’
‘Casualties of war.’
‘Innocent people, Rus—’
‘Allah understands. The Quran says “even if you had remained in your houses, those ordained to be slaughtered would have gone forth to the places where they were to be slain.”’ Ruslan took a glide-off and turned east towards the coast. ‘Some are predestined to die. And your mistake, your biggest mistake was your prejudice. You never suspected the blueeyed white man. You focused on the Saudi sheikh with his long white beard and the youngster sending and receiving provocative emails. You were so caught up in trying to find Muslims fitting the racial profile that I just slipped through the cracks. You made it easy for me. I just had to plant seeds and you and the others let those seeds grow into a colossal tree. A tree of s
elf-created deception.’
‘So you’re Al Qaeda?’
‘They get the credit for all our best work. You see, we never claim responsibility. We assign responsibility. As soon as you claim responsibility, you make yourself a target. So make someone else responsible.’
‘The sheikh and Mohammed.’
‘Exactly. This is Allah’s war; it’s not for our glorification. Our goal is to do Allah’s will, not claim personal victories.’
‘You won’t succeed.’
‘We’ve already succeeded. Even the newspapers call it a success.’
‘I won’t let you do this.’
‘You won’t be able to stop me. Even if you wanted to, you just won’t have the strength.’
‘I’ve sent the email,’ Nandi said. ‘We can’t just sit here and wait. Can’t I phone him?’
‘I don’t want to endanger him any further. The email will tell him the whole story. He’ll have to deal with it as he sees fit. He’s a big strong man, he shouldn’t have a problem overpowering Ruslan, especially if Ruslan is taken by surprise,’ Masondo said, before answering his phone and speaking for a moment. ‘I’ve had some folks check Ruslan’s room at the centre again, more thoroughly this time. There’s nothing there. Absolutely nothing.’
‘I pray he’s okay.’ There were tears and she didn’t know if they were because she may have lost Cedric, or disappointed her father.
‘You and me both. Have faith in God.’
‘I do. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m really sorry.’
‘Not now, darling. Let’s focus on the moment. Let’s just get Cedric back.’
‘We’ll get him, guys,’ Durant said. ‘Ced’s a clever guy. He’ll figure out a way.’
‘You knew about Cedric?’ Masondo asked, and to Durant it sounded more like a statement than a question.
‘About Cedric?’
‘Don’t step around me, Kevin, I’m not an idiot. You know what I’m asking.’
Nandi put her hand on her father’s arm. ‘Please, Dad, not now.’
‘No, now,’ Masondo said. ‘While we’re waiting. I want to know who else betrayed me.’
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