The woman asked the officers to lock the gate from the outside while she safely retreated to her gate, which she locked, and then signaled to them that she was now safe and they could leave.
“Do a lot of white people live like that, Cappy?”
“Like how, Steven?”
“Like you know, prisoners in their own big beautiful homes?”
“Pretty much.”
Steven Dlamini, born and raised in Alexandra Township had always envied the whites and the way they lived in their big houses with their big cars. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He may have been poor, and he may have been beaten and robbed occasionally as a youngster growing up in a sprawling shanty town, but at least he was free, he thought.
Chapter Nine
Steven Dlamini didn’t quite grasp how right he was, about being free to roam his neighbourhood. The majority of middle class and wealthy citizens of South Africa didn’t and most assuredly couldn’t freely walk the streets. And this was true of all races that were wealthy enough to own a suburban home and have a fairly well paid job. As Night well knew, criminals didn’t only target whites or blacks and in fact the colour of a victim’s skin played almost no part in how criminals targeted their victims, despite what any white South Africans thought. The middle class and wealthy living in Johannesburg drove to work, drove to the shop, even if it was literally a block away and never walked anywhere other than in a large shopping mall, which usually had its own army of private guards patrolling it, after arriving there in the safety of their own vehicles, if of course they were not hijacked en route.
The poor didn’t escape crime either as shown by the robbery of Polite, the gardener, as he would become just one of the reported 150 plus common robberies per day in the country, if he even reported his crime. And that’s just common robbery, had Polite said that his attackers had a weapon of any sort it would have been classified as a robbery with aggravating circumstances of which over 350 are recorded each day. And had Polite actually been a house robber and successfully gained entry to the property and got away with his crime it would have been just one recorded incident out of over 55 that took place in South Africa each and every day. South Africa, the rainbow nation.
Statistics mean little though, as any veteran South African police officer would tell you, because the vast majority of victims did not bother reporting the crime inflicted against them. People didn’t really trust the police but more importantly they didn’t trust the justice system. Many people believed the courts favoured the criminals or were just outright corrupt.
The rest of the morning shift was quiet for November Whisky Fifty. In fact for all Norwood vehicles it was dead. Sandton units however were kept very busy over the channel’s radio network that Norwood shared with its neighbouring police station. Night had counted at least three armed robberies in progress having been dispatched to Sierra Delta vehicles, and that was before lunch. It made sense that Sandton was busy, it was the wealthiest area in Johannesburg, South Africa and even Africa, often referred to as ‘Africa’s Richest Square Mile.’
Zulu and Kalahari had both suggested to Night that they leave the Norwood area and head out of their jurisdiction to assist the Sandton vehicles. A younger Night would have eagerly agreed even though it was technically against national standing orders though there were many ways around that, such as providing a Sandton vehicle with backup or asking control for permission to help saturate the area as it was so busy. But Night was loyal to Norwood, he felt it was his patch. And so did Shaka, though he reached his boredom threshold a lot quicker than his Captain.
The police officers diligently patrolled Norwood’s four designated sectors and looked at the usual hot spots of drug dealing, prostitution, theft or any other petty crime they could think of but after having a much longer lunch than necessary and another three hours of patrolling the streets without even the hint of any action all four officers were bored out of their minds and Shaka in particular was beginning to lose his.
“Mike, check the damn radio again, maybe it’s broken.”
“Zulu, my brother, I’ve checked it three times already, and while you were eating your fourth course I even phoned that new controller to check everything was working. And it was and is.”
“It’s because no one trusts us anymore, they phone their own private security companies” said Kalahari quickly looking up from his phone before getting stuck back into Angry Birds.
“Then why are the other stations so damn busy?” asked Dlamini.
“Mike, then let’s go to the range and let off a few rounds, the kid will love it” said Shaka.
At that moment the radio controller came over the air and gave out yet another alpha complaint in the Sandton area. It was a vehicle business robbery in progress.
“For God’s sake, Mike. Let’s go to Sandton then and help there, the shark will learn nothing with us just driving around wasting the state’s petrol all day” pleaded Shaka.
“Listen, if no Sierra Delta Units respond to the call then we can go.”
“Cool” said Shaka as he turned November Whisky Fifty in the general direction of Sandton.
Night knew, though, that there were many vehicles on duty in Sandton at the moment and was proved right when four different units each told Control that they were responding.
The mood in the vehicle became pessimistic once more.
“Sergeant, I have a question?” said Dlamini.
“What?”
“Aren’t we supposed to be happy that there isn’t any crime going on in our area?”
Shaka didn’t respond but swore to himself under his breath in Zulu.
“That’s the thing, Steven. Crime is happening, it’s just that people either aren’t calling the police anymore or aren’t getting through to 10111” offered Night.
“How do you know?”
“I’ll show you when we get back to the station, the occurrence book will be full of crimes committed and cases opened.”
“So people do report the crimes to the police, then why don’t they phone us?”
“They only report the crime for insurances purposes, usually after work, that’s why we prefer working the day shift, as just after we knock off all the Bravos come through. And like I said a lot of people do try to call us for help but can’t get through..”
“But you got through to control, just a while ago didn’t you?”
“Ja, but on his private mobile phone. All the channel 26 shift controllers share a mobile while on duty.”
“Oh okay, should I try call 10111 to see?”
“Why not” said Night with a shrug.
And true to the police officer’s suspicions the phone just rang unanswered.
“Then how are Sandton getting the calls?” Dlamini said while putting his phone away.
“From their station. The station commander there has implemented a system that allows all complaints originating in and around Sandton to go directly through their crime prevention team at the station who then relay it to Control.”
“Sounds like we should do the same thing hey, Cappy?”
“Yes, it’s on my list of things to discuss with Colonel Lembedi…”
It was a clever system brought to realisation by the very wealthy Business Against Crime group set up to help in the war on crime.
The truth of the matter was that the 10111 emergency call centre was undermanned, staffed by people who were unqualified or in some cases completely illiterate. There were even cases reported in the media of people being sworn at, if they were lucky enough to get through.
“Any November Whisky vehicle for a 32 alpha in Melrose, come in for Control?”
“That’s an armed robbery in progress and we’re in Melrose!” said Dlamini.
“Thanks for letting me know” said Night as he picked up the radio.
“Send for November Whisky Fifty, Control.”
“Thank you, Captain. It seems there is a Cash in Transit Heist taking place at the
corners of Corlett Drive and Oxford Road.”
“Corlett Drive and Oxford, that’s about a block away!” exclaimed Dlamini excitedly.
Suddenly the Warrant Officer next to the young student was on full alert, put his mobile phone away and checked the readiness of his weapons.
“Zulu, pull over here.”
Sergeant Shaka didn’t need to be told twice, he didn’t need to be told at all in fact.
He quickly pulled The Beast to the side of the road.
A Cash in Transit Heist in Progress was perhaps the most dangerous call any police unit in South Africa could attend - Cash in Transit gangs usually consisted of between 12 to 24 heavily armed criminals, usually ex military or police and they carried AK47s and often used explosives to blow out the back of the CIT vehicles or smoked the crews out of the vehicles with Molotov cocktails after ramming them onto their side with heavy luxury vehicles. Rushing in alone was not recommended. In fact going in without at least two other units was almost suicide.
Night quickly got back on Comms.
“Control, November Whisky Fifty Urgent Permission with all other November Whisky Units.”
“Permission granted, Captain. Go ahead” said the controller.
“No-Whisky ten come for me.”
“Send for me, Captain?”
“What’s your Zero Three?”
“Norwood, opening a docket of theft.”
“Copy, No-Whisky 18 come for me.”
“Send Cappy?”
“Zero Three?”
“En route to the district surgeon with a drunk driver to take a blood sample, Captain.”
“Copy that. No-Whisky 21 come in for me”
“Send for November Whisky 21, Captain.”
“What’s your Zero Three?”
“We’re in the cells booking in some illegals, Captain. But I’ll leave them here to help assist with that 32 Alpha?”
“That’s a negative, 21, just finish up there, you’re too wide anyway.”
“Shit! That’s all our vehicles out of action, gents” Night said to his crew and not over the air.
A thousand thoughts ran through Night’s mind. He could ask Rosebank vehicles for assistance as Melrose was on their station’s border but they were notoriously inept at dealing with Alpha complaints. He could ask Sandton vehicles to provide backup but they were busy enough and he didn’t know where that last business robbery was taking place and he had heard the majority if not all the shifts vehicles attending to it and if it was positive they would have their own trouble to deal with.
“Control, are there any Yankee (Flying Squad) vehicles on duty on our channel today?”
“That’s a negative, Captain. They’re all in the South of Johannesburg today for a special operation I believe.”
“Thank you, Control.”
“Shit, shit, shit!” said Night as he hit the dashboard in front of him “Our first proper Alpha for today and we can’t respond.”
Just then a series of gunshots cut through the air nearby. The sound of the weapon system unmistakable – AK47 fire, which sounds more like the crack of a whip than any other assault rifle Night had ever heard.
The gunshots were swiftly followed by the sound of people screaming and car tires screeching.
Night looked at Shaka and then at the Warrant Officer behind him and they all knew that even though it was near suicide they had to respond. It was their duty.
“All right gents, windows up. The Beast is armoured and will provide some level of protection against those AK’s… just as long as the windows don’t take too many rounds. But hopefully when they see us coming they’ll stage a retreat.”
“They’ll retreat all right but not after emptying their clips on us” said Shaka.
“Well then, my brother, be sure to drive through and around them.”
Without another word, Sergeant Shaka released the vehicle’s hand break, turned on the lights and sirens and floored the accelerator. They had to go in with as much aggression and noise as they could. Their best bet would be to startle the armed robbers and hope to frighten them into a forced retreat. Night was hoping that they had already got their hands on the cash boxes.
Dlamini’s heart began to beat so fast he thought it might burst through his chest.
As November Whisky Fifty was about to turn the corner a group of about half a dozen civilians turned into their road running with their hands in the air and their heads held low.
Three more shots lashed the air.
As they turned the corner the sight that Night and his crew took in stole their breath. Shaka slammed on brakes and the large police vehicle came to a shuddering halt.
The entire intersection had been shut down on three sides. In the middle of the road the CIT vehicle was on its side and was burning, smoke billowed up 20 feet into the air. The luxury BMW used to ram it was also on its side but was not on fire. The three security guards had been forced out of the heavily armoured vehicle and were on their knees with their hands tied behind their heads. Behind each guard stood a masked robber with an AK47 pointed to the back of their skulls. Blocking off each of the three sides of the road under the traffic lights were two vehicles a piece, all four by fours and large pick up trucks in pairs. At the back of each pick up truck lay two masked men who now turned their assault rifles on the approaching police vehicle. Night took in the type of assault rifle each of the prone men had pointed at them and without conscious thought he said out loud:
“We’re dead men.”
Night instantly killed the lights and sirens and threw his weapon to the floor and put his hands up in the most exaggerated manner he could manage. Kalahari must have come to the same conclusion as the Captain and did the same. Shaka and Dlamini were about to follow suit when two more gunshots smashed through the air and hit the windscreen of November Whisky Fifty. The shots were perfectly placed and had The Beast not been fully armoured Night and Shaka would now be dead men, the precision rounds from the armed robbers assault rifles would have split their heads in two, with their rear passengers soon to follow.
Now all four police officers had their hands in the air and just sat there in limbo between life and death.
The two snipers who had taken the shots lifted their heads, checked their work, and then re-aimed. All they had to do was hit the approximate impact point one, two, or perhaps three more times and their deadly rounds would eventually penetrate.
As Night was about to close his eyes and make his peace with every War God prayed to by man he noticed the door of one of the luxury 4x4’s open and a tall and slender masked man dressed in army fatigues and carrying another one of those very particular assault rifles in his arms get out of the vehicle. He pointed at the two snipers with his free hand and gestured to them to hold their fire. He then casually walked over to November Whisky Fifty and to the side of Night’s door. As he arrived he gestured for the Captain to lower his window.
Night put his hand on the switch and was about to lower it when Kalahari said:
“Don’t do it, Mike. He’ll put a round in your head, and then ours if you do.”
Night turned to Kalahari and spoke to him and the rest of his crew in a bitterly disappointed tone: “If they wanted us dead, we would now be dead.”
Night then rolled down his window and looked silently at the featureless mask now staring ominously at him.
Kalahari had stealthily unclipped his sidearm from his thigh holster and was bringing it up to point at the new arrival.
“Michael Night. I heard you book on duty.”
Night then noticed the police issue radio strapped to the man’s vest. The gang were obviously monitoring police radio traffic in this area. It was no real surprise. And now Night knew that they knew that there would be no further police units responding, no backup.
“I didn’t think this was your area?”
“It is Norwood’s area. But it sits on the border with Rosebank.”
“I was counting on it being Roseban
k’s area” the man then gestured around them with his free hand “See, no other vehicle’s responding. They always were a useless bunch.”
“So what now?” said Night.
“Now, you very quickly get back on your little radio and tell control that the Alpha is negative, that it was just a car accident… now please… Captain.”
“Control, November Whisky Fifty.”
“Send, November Whisky Fifty”
“I am here at the 32 alpha and it’s a negative, it’s just a car accident control. Please make sure that no other vehicles respond.”
“Copy that, Captain… wait a second… November Whisky Fifty I have just had a call of a shooting in progress come through on my screen located around that same area.”
“Ah, yes, control, sorry about that, my student accidently discharged his firearm on arrival, no harm done though.”
Dlamini wanted to say something as he was embarrassed at the thought of accidentally discharging his weapon but the masked man standing next to his Captain caught his eye and his eyes smiled at him, if there was such a thing, obviously understanding the students embarrassment, but there was something else in the man’s eyes that made him hold his tongue.
“Oh.. okay, well, Rosebank Station itself called it in. Next time let me know, by the book, Captain, so that we are all on the same page.”
Night inadvertently laughed without mirth at the controller’s last words as did the criminal standing next to him. The man then shook his head and said:
“I have no idea why you still care, Michael. It’s a different country, a different police force, look at those Rosebank cowards, won’t even respond themselves. This whole bloody country is fucked!”
The man spat on the floor in disgust and then turned to the rest of his men and gave the signal for them to move out. One of the criminals guarding the prisoners asked for guidance on what to do with them.
“Knock them out and leave them there.”
The man then looked at Night.
Night In London (Night Series Book 2) Page 13