"We want to hear it all, Isabella. You will not leave this room until you have told every detail." 'Nana, I am so ashamed. I had no choice." "I did not ask for excuses and self-abasement, missy. I want the truth." "You must understand, Bella. We know that you have done terrible damage to the national interest, to the family, to yourself Now it is our duty to contain and control that damage.' Shasa stood in front of the fireplace with his hands clasped under the tails of his blazer. His tone had moderated. 'We want to help you, but we must know the truth before we can do so." Isabella looked up at him with a hunted expression. 'Can I talk to you and Nana alone?' She glanced at her brothers. Garry lolled in the armchair under the window with thumbs hooked in his gaudy braces. He rolled an unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. Sean sat on the windowsill, his legs thrust straight out in front of him. His bare arms, tanned and sleek with muscle, were crossed over his chest.
"No,' said Centaine firmly. 'The boys have risked their lives for you and Nicky. If you have stored up more trouble for yourself and the family, they are the ones who will be called upon to bail you out. No, you don't get out of it that easily. They deserve to hear everything you have to tell us.
Don't leave anything out - do you hear me?" Slowly Isabella lowered her face into her hands. 'They gave me the code-name Red Rose." 'Speak up, girl. Don't mumble.' Centaine banged her cane on the floor between her feet, and Isabella started and looked up.
"I did everything they told me to,' she said, looking the old lady in the face. 'When Nicky was still an infant, just over a month old, they made a film and showed it to me. They-almost drowned my baby. They held him by the feet and ducked him... 'She broke off, and then drew a deep breath to steady herself. 'They warned me that in the next film they would cut off parts of his body and then send them to me his fingers, his toes, his arms and legs and then. She choked on the word. 'And then his head." They were all silent and appalled until Centaine spoke.
"Go on." 'They told me I must work for Daddy. I must inveigle myself into his Armscor work.' Shasa winced, and Isabella twisted her fingers together.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. They told me that I must enter politics, stand for Parliament, use the family connection."
"I should have suspected your sudden political aspirations," Centaine said bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Nana." 'Don't keep saying you're sorry,' Centaine snapped. "It does not contribute anything worthwhile and it is damnably irritating. just get on with it, child." 'For a while they asked nothing of me - for almost two years. Then the orders started to come. The first was the Siemens radar chain." Shasa grunted and was about to speak, then he checked himself and reached for the handkerchief in the breast pocket of his blazer.
"Then they wanted more and more." 'The Skylight project?' Shasa asked, and when she nodded he glanced at Centaine.
"You were right, Mater.' He looked back at his daughter. 'You will have to write it all down. Everything you ever gave them. I want a list - dates, documents, meetings, everything. We must know everything that is compromised." 'Daddy. Isabella began, and then for a moment she could not go on.
"Spit it out, missy,' Centaine ordered.
"Cyndex 25,' Isabella said.
"Oh God - nop Shasa breathed.
"That was why they gave me access to Nicky this last time - the Cyndex specifications and Ben." 'Ben?' Garry straightened up in his chair. 'Who is Ben?" 'Ben Gama,' Centaine said harshly. 'Tara's little black bastard, the son of Moses Gama. The man that killed my Blaine, the man that disgraced this family.' She looked at Isabella for confirmation.
"Yes, Nana. My half-brother, Ben.' She looked'at her brothers. 'Your half-brother, too, only he doesn't call himself Ben Gama now, he calls himself Benjamin Afrika." 'Why do I know that name?' Garry asked.
"Because he works for you,' Isabella said. 'They made me arrange a job for him. I recruited him for Capricorn when I was in London. He works for Capricorn Chemicals as a laboratory technician, in the poisons division." 'In the Cyndex plant?' Shasa asked with disbelief. 'You didn't get him in theref 'Yes, Pater, I did.' She was about to apologize again but then looked at her grandmother's face.
Garry leapt out of his chair and strode to the desk. He seized the telephone and spoke to the operator on the Weltevieden exchange.
"Get me a call to Capricorn Chemicals - you've got the number, haven't you?
I want to speak to the managing director immediately - it's urgent, very urgent. Call me back here the moment you have him on the line." He replaced the telephone. 'We'll have to have him, Ben, we'll have to have him taken in for questioning right away. If they placed him in the plant, it was for some good or, rather, for some nefarious reason." 'He is one of them,' Centaine burst out. None of them had ever heard such bitterness in her tone or seen such hatred on her face. They all stared at her in horror. 'He is one of the revolutionaries, the destroyers. With that black Satan as his father and Tara to poison his mind over all the years, he must be one of them. God grant that we can prevent whatever terrible thing they are planning." They were all of them subdued by the horror of their imaginings.
The~ telephone split the silence, and Garry snatched up the receiver. 'I have the managing director of Capricorn on the fine." 'Good. Put him on. Hallo, Paul. Thank God, I got you. Hold on one second." He pressed the 'conference' key on the telephone so that they could all hear the conversation.
"Listen, Paul. You have an employee in the poisons division. In the new pesticide plant. Benjamin Afrika." 'Yes, Mr. Courtney. I don't know him personally, but the name is vaguely familiar. Hold on, let me get the computer print on him. Yes, here we go.
Benjamin Afrika. He joined us in April."
"OK, Paul. I want him arrested and held by the company security guards. He is to be held completely incommunicado, do you understand that? No phone calls. No lawyers. No press. Nothing." 'Can we do that, Mr. Courtney?" 'I can do anything I want to, Paul. Bear that in mind. Give the order for his arrest now. I'll hold on while you do it." It will take two seconds,' the managing director agreed. They heard his voice in the background as he spoke to security over the internal circuit.
"All right, Mr. Courtney. They are on their way to get Afrika." 'Now, listen, Paul. What is the position with the Cyndex manufacturing programme? Have you started to ship to the Army yet?" 'Not yet, Mr. Courtney. The first shipment is due to go out next Tuesday.
The ordnance are sending their own trucks." 'OK, Paul. What stocks are you holding at the moment?" 'Let me check the computer.' Paul's voice was starting to betray his agitation. 'At the moment in the five-kilo artillery canisters we have e35 each of Formula A and B, in the fifty-kilo aerial cylinders we have twenty-six of each of both formulas. They will go to the Air Force at the end of next week-" Garry cut him off. 'Paul, I want a physical count of every canister and cylinder. I want some of your senior men in the storage area right away to check the serial numbers of each piece against the plant manifest - and I want it done within the next hour." 'Is something wrong, Mr. Courtney?" 'I'll tell you that when you have the results of your stock-take for me.
I'll be waiting at this number. Come back to me as soon as you can - or come back a damned sight sooner than that." As he hung up Sean demanded: "How soon can you get us to Capricorn?"
"The Lear is out of action. DCA want a full overhaul of the airframe and a new airworthiness certificate after that missile strike." 'How soon, Garry?' Sean insisted, and Garry thought for a second.
"The Queen Air is so slow, but it will be quicker than waiting for the scheduled flight to Johannesburg. At least we will be able to fly directly to the airstrip at the Capricorn plant. If we leave in the next hour, we could be there early this afternoon." 'Shouldn't we notify the police?' Shasa asked, and Centaine banged her stick imperiously.
"No police. Not yet - not ever, if we can help it. Grab Tara's black bastard and beat the truth out of him if we have to, but we must try to keep this in the family.' She broke off as the telephone rang.
Gar
ry picked it up and listened for a few seconds. Then he said: 'I see.
Thank you, Paul. I'm flying up right away. I should be at the Capricorn strip by one this afternoon.' He hung up and looked around their anxious faces. 'The little brown bird has flown. Benjamin Afrika hasn't showed up at the plant for the last four days. Nobody has heard from him. Nobody knows where he is." 'What about the stocks of Cyndex?' Shasa demanded.
"They are checking them. They'll have the results when we land at Capricorn,' Garry told him. 'Pater and Nana must stay here at Weltevreden to liaise at this end. If you need to get a message to us while we are in the air, you can telephone Information at Jan Smuts Airport control and get them to relay.' He looked across at his brother.
"Sean will come with me. I might need some muscle." Sean sauntered across to his father and held out his hand. 'Keys of the gun-safe, please, Pater." Shasa handed them over, and Sean turned the lock on the heavy steel door and swung it open. He stepped into the safe and studied the rack of revolvers and pistols for a moment before he selected a magnum Smith & Wesson revolver. He took down a packet of ammunition from the shelf above it and thrust the revolver into the belt of his jeans.
"I'd better take one as well.' Garry went to the safe.
"Garry,' Isabella called after him, 'I'm coming with you and Sean." "Forget it, Mavourneen.' Garry didn't even look round at her as he selected a Heckler & Koch 9-millimetre parabellum from the rack. 'There is nothing further that you can contribute." 'Yes, there is. You don't know what Ben looks like. I can recognize him and there is something else I haven't told you yet." 'What is it?" 'I'll tell you when we arc in the air."
Garry levelled the twin-cngine Beechcraft Queen Air on her northerly heading and turned in his seat to beckon to Isabella where she sat in the main passenger-cabin.
She unfastened her seat-belt and went up to the cockpit, and Icant over the back of Garry's scat.
"OK, Bella. Let's hear it. What else can you tell us?" She looked across at Sean in the co-pilot's so-at.
"Do you remember the night at the Chicamba river when Nicky tried to escape and you and I ran back to catch him?" Sean nodded and she went on: 'You remember the guerrilla officer in the first truck, the one who supervised the clearing of the road-block? Well, I got a really good look at him and I knew I had seen him before. I was absolutely certain of it, but it didn't make any sense, not until now." 'When and where had you seen him?" 'He was with Ben - and they were going into Michael's farm at Firgrove." 'Michael?' Garry cut in. 'Our Michael?" 'Yes,' she confirmed. 'Michael Courtney." 'You think Michael is mixed up in this?"
"Well, don't you think so? Otherwise what would he be doing with that ANC terrorist commander - and Ben?" They were all silent thinking about it for a while, then Isabella went on: 'Garry, you obviously suspect that Ben has stolen a cylinder or two of Cyndex. If he's mixed up with terrorists, how do you think they would use it? Spray it from an aircraft perhaps?" 'Yes, that is the most likely way." 'Michael has a plane at Firgrove." 'Oh shit,' Garry whispered. 'Please don't let it be true. Not Mickey please, not Mickey." 'Michael has been publishing that commie rag of his for years,' Sean pointed out grimly. 'And he's got very chummy with a lot of the uglies in the process." Nobody answered him. Garry said: 'Bella, get us each a Coke, please." She went back to the refrigerator in the bar and brought two cans. They drank, and Sean lowered the can and belched softly. 'The Rand Easter Show opened this morning,' he said, and Garry looked at him.
"What the hell has that got to do with it?" 'Nothing.' Sean grinned at him wickedly. 'The Rand Easter Show - the biggest, glitziest show in the country. Half a million people all in one place. All of industry showing its products, the farmers, the businessmen - every goddam tinker, tailor and Indian chief will be there. The grand opening this evening at eight o'clock, the fireworks display, and the military tattoo and the stock-car racing and the show jumping. The prime minister making a speech, and all the big shots in their dark suits and carnation button-holes. Hell, of course, it means nothing." 'Don't fool around, Sean,' Garry grated at him.
"You're absolutely right, Garry.' Sean kept on grinning. 'I mean, at heart the ANC are really decent civilized fellows. Just because they let off a few car bombs, and put burning motor-car tyres around people's necks, doesn't mean they don't have beautiful souls. Hell, don't let's judge them too harshly. A Russian limpet mine in a crowded supermarket is one thing, but they'd never dream of spraying the Rand Easter Show with Cyndex would they?" 'No.' Garry shook his head. 'I mean, Ben and Mickey are our own brothers.
They wouldn't - no...' His voice trailed off, and then he said angrily: "Damn it, if only we had the Lear, we'd be there by now." The radio squawked, and Garry adjusted his headphones.
"Charlie Sierra X-Ray, this is Jan Smuts Information. I have a relay for you from Capricorn. Are you ready to copy?" 'Go ahead, Information." "Message reads: All stocks and serial numbers tally. Message ends." "Thank God,' Garry breathed.
"Tell them to check what's inside the cylinders,' Sean suggested mildly, and Garry's expression altered..
"Information, please relay to Capricorn. Message reads: Take samples from all containers. Message ends." Garry removed his headphones. 'I want so badly for it not to be true,' he said. 'But you're right, Sean. They aren't idiots. It would be simple enough to stamp a couple of empty cylinders with false numbers and substitute them in the stock-room." "How much longer?" Garry checked his navigation. 'Another hour - thank the Lord for this tail-wind." Sean looked round at his sister. 'Do me a big favour, sweetheart. Next time you fancy a little bit of nooky, pick somebody a mite tamer - like Jack the Ripper." The Capricorn airstrip was marked by the gigantic figure of the goat laid out artistically in white quartz. It stood out clearly on the brown veld from a distance of five miles. Garry touched down smoothly and taxied to the hangar building where four vehicles and a group of Capricorn employees headed by Paul, the managing director, were waiting to receive them.
As Garry and Sean jumped down from the Queen Air 55e and turned to give Isabella a hand, Paul rushed forward.
"Mr. Courtney, you were right. Two of the small canisters contain only carbon dioxide gas. Somebody has switched them. There are ten kilos of Cyndex out there somewhere!" They stared at him in total horror. Ten kilos could wipe out an army.
"It's time to call in the police. They've got to pick up Ben Afrika. Do we have his address?' Sean asked.
"I have already sent somebody to his home,' Paul cut in. 'He isn't there.
His landlady says she hasn't seen him for the last few days. He hasn't eaten or slept there." 'Firgrove,' Isabella said softly.
"Right,' Garry snapped. 'Sean, you'd better get out there right away. Take Bella with you to show you the way and to identify Ben if you run into him.
I'll run things from this end. I'll be in the boardroom. Call me as soon as you get to Firgrove. I'll get police back-up for you and raise hell all round. We've got to get hold of those missing canisters." Sean turned to Paul. 'I need a car - a fast one." 'Take mine.' He pointed to a new BMW parked next to the hangar. 'The tank is full. Here are the keys." 'Come on, Bella. Let's go.' They ran to the BMW.
"Don't get stopped by the traffic cops, Fangio,' Bella warned him, as he pushed the BMW hard along the highway. 'We should have sent the cops out to Firgrove before we left Cape Town. God, it's three o'clock already." "We couldn't do anything until we were sure that someone had ripped off a couple of Cyndex tanks,' Sean pointed out.
He leant Across and switched on the car radio. Bella glanced at him enquiringly.
"Three o'clock news,' he explained and turned to Radio Highveld. It was the third item on the newscast.
"Since this morning record crowds have been passing through the gates of the Rand Easter Show. Today is the opening day. A spokesman for the show committee stated that by noon today more than two hundred thousand visitors had already entered the grounds." Sean switched off the set and then slammed his clenched fist against the dashboard of the BMW.
<
br /> "Michaelp he shouted. 'It's always the bleeding hearts that are capable of the wildest excesses. How many innocents have been tortured and murdered in the name of God, peace and the fellowship of men?' He hit the dashboard again, and Bella reached across to touch his arm.
"Slow down, Sean. You take the next exit right.' Bella hung on to the door-handle as he swung the BMW into the bend.
"How much further?" 'Only a couple of miles." Sean pulled back the tail of his coat and drew the Smith & Wesson from his belt. With his thumb he spun the chambers.
"What are you going to do with that?' Bella asked nervously. 'Ben and Mickey-" 'Ben and Mickey have got nice friends,' he said, and slipped the revolver into his belt.
"There it is.' Bella leant forward in the seat and pointed ahead. "That's the gate to Mickey's place." Sean slowed the BMW and turned off on to the dirt track. He drove sedately through the blue-gum plantation until they glimpsed the buildings ahead.
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