Chapter 20

Ludwig woke up just past 6 AM. Mai was nowhere around. Not next to him in bed, not in the room, not even in the apartment. He wondered where she was off to. Ludwig’s not worried. She had been coming and going without saying anything to him. She was operational independent. That was what had Ludwig worried. She was to be his aid. But she did not take orders from him. It was more like she was giving the orders and instructions. Like she was leading him instead of him leading her.

This, Ludwig, did not like. He did not like it at all. He, Ludwig must be in control. Ludwig will give the orders, plan, and instruct. Then hang back in the background. Never be on the scene. This method had him survive for a long time. Ever since his days with the KGB. This method had him successfully infiltrate the IRA. Even MI5 and MI6 were no problem. Now he feels like he is losing control.

Ludwig had built up his empire with all his knowledge he acquired through his dealings with the Intelligence agencies around the world. The best practices he learned from the CIA. How to be a double agent came from the KGB. He never touched drugs. No. That was to only provoke the scrutiny of Agencies he did not want to be observed by.

Ludwig got out of bed and went to the lounge area of the apartment. He needs something to eat. Tea, yes, he needs tea. Ludwig filled the kettle with water and put it to boil. He looked around the apartment. No sign that Mai was even there. Ludwig noticed a sheet of paper on the coffee table. He picked it up. A note from Mai.

“Master Ludwig.

I have gone before you. I left for Johannesburg. Furthermore, I will contact you once you arrive in South Africa. There’s a house in Newlands, Cape Town. Please proceed to there. Do not, I repeat, do not try to contact me. We will meet at the appropriate time. The time is not right for us to be seen together. I am not known in South Africa, therefore; we must arrive at the destination on separate flights and on separate times and dates. You must go to the confessional tonight at seven PM. (19:00). You will be given instructions of your departure then, as well as the address of the house in Newlands. This is all for now.

Your Servant.

Mai.”

Ludwig stared at the note. He does not like it. How did she know about a house in Newlands that he could use? Does this prove that she is on Mister X’s payroll? This woman is an enigma. She starts her note with “Master Ludwig” and ends it with “Your Servant.” Yet, in the note, she gives him more instructions on how he should proceed. Is she really working for him? Ludwig feels uncomfortable, but he has no other choice. He has to wait.

(Oliver Tambo International Airport, Kempton Park, South Africa.)

The KLM Airways Boeing 747-400, named “Nairobi,” touched down on runway 21 left, at O.R. Tambo International airport, near Kempton Park, north of Johannesburg. One hour and thirty-five minutes from Prague to Amsterdam, then two hours thirty minutes layover in Amsterdam. Now ten hours fifty minutes from Amsterdam to Johannesburg. Mai’s tired. She needs a hot shower and a bed. Tomorrow she will start her part of the PLAN.

Mai eventually got through Customs. Travelling on her Iraqi passport, as Amirah Rahal, an Iraqi citizen. She changed on the Amsterdam Schiphol airport into her shoulder-to-toe black abaya gown and hijab head covering, placing her Vietnamese Ao dai dress, in her hand-luggage. Mai’s long, black hair, now covered by the hijab scarf. Despite Mai’s white complexion, she will now be regarded as a Moslem girl.

Mai has now become Amirah, her name meaning, “Princess” in Arabic. She smiled to herself, from a flower to a princess, how appropriate. Also, in Amsterdam, she changed her identity. Flown into Amsterdam as Mai, she flew out as Amirah Rahal. “Mai” stayed in Amsterdam, her visa valid for two months, just, she would not be there! The Dark Angel has emerged.

Amirah now walked through the International arrival hall of the airport. Her goal was the rental car service desk. She needs transport. Thereafter, she’ll go to a hotel at the airport. A hot shower and a well-deserved sleep in a big bed. Tomorrow the fun will begin.

(The following day in Pretoria.)

As per usual, Joe was in the office early. He had some cases to survey before he will dish it out, assigned to Detectives that will do the investigations. There’s the new case of fraud, and one on diamond smuggling. The cases keep on coming in. There are new ones every day. All over the world Agency’s need help on either investigation on a matter, or arrest and extradition of perpetrators. Joe’s cell phone buzzed.

“Joe Franks, Good Morning,” Joe said.

“Hello, Blue.” Came a soft female voice. “It’s been ... Like three of four years, wasn’t it?

“Chao-Xing? Is it really you?” Joe said. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Only one person in the world would call him “Blue,” the little girl with no known nation, Chao-Xing Chang! Neither Chinese nor Korean. You call it, she could be any nationality from the Eastern Countries.

“Yes, It’s me, Blue. How have you been?” Chao-Xing said in her soft seductive voice.

“Good to hear your voice! You’re here? In Pretoria?” Joe asked.

“I’m in Pretoria, the place some call, The City of Tshwane,” she said. “Joe, I need to meet with you. Urgent!” The urgency in her voice, picked up by Joe.

“Where?” Joe asked.

“Somewhere East or South of the city. Centurion Mall, East Gate Centre, or Sandton City, you pick.” Chao-Xing said.

“You still eat Sushi? I know a very good Sushi-bar in Centurion.” Joe said.

“You remembered! How sweet of you, Blue. Give me the address, I’ll meet you there at ten. Oh, by the way, my hair’s black now ... Real Chinese chick now.” Giggle. Chao-Xing said. Joe shuddered; he remembered the last time he had dealings with her. Joe gave her the place name and address.

“Okay, Blue. Nice hearing your voice again. I look forward to our meeting.” Chao-Xing said and disconnected. Joe sat staring at his phone. He shivered again. Blond Chao-Xing, black-haired Chao-Xing, what next? What is she up to? And why is she here in South Africa again? An international syndicate again? Here? One he knows about ... or not.

Joe replaced the phone back in his pocket. He needs coffee. He also needs to check up on “Don’s House for unwanted teenage girls.” Joe smirked. Old Don, poor guy, his world turned upside down. Poor guy? No. On the one hand, lucky guy! Looks like he snagged a wife ... and a daughter! Or did the girls snag him? One will never know, would we?

(Czech Republic. Sometime during the day... )

Ludwig was growing impatient. There was no communication from anyone, except the note from Mai. Ludwig’s not used to this kind of treatment. No, he, Ludwig Hertz, was the head of a global enterprise with offices in all the major city centres in the world. No, he is being treated like a second-grade aid.

Ludwig poured himself a tumbler of Bourbon. He sat down on the couch. Ludwig needs to get back to South Africa. He must find out if Mister X will be giving him access to some new recruits, if not, he has to recruit some himself. This he can only do if he is back in South Africa.

Even if he had to kill Lambert himself, then he will do it. Lambert caused all this mess, and he needs to pay. Lambert has to die, and so do the bitches that he harbours on his farm.

Ludwig sipped at his Bourbon. NO. He has to rethink his strategy. He will go about it with caution. Ludwig Hertz will take his time. He will get his resources together. Then await the right time. Then strike!

He’s not going to wait on Mister X. No, he will go back to South Africa. He will regroup with some people still on his payroll. Then he will strike on that Lambert scum.

(Later the same day, in a small cosy Thai Sushi-bar. There’s only a few REAL Japanese places in South Africa. The most places that serve sushi are either Taiwanese or Chinese. Even Some bigger Supermarkets sell sushi, either for DIY at home or you can buy it in pre-made packs. Or, order it for take-away and then made by the local Sushi-chef on site.)

Joe sat facing the door of the little Thai place. Although the name of the little shop, and that of the proprietor of the place, resembles Thai, this little shop caters to all the cuisine from the East. Some say, it’s the best place for sushi. Joe always thought that the owner is more Japanese than anything else. Like the guest Joe awaits.

The “guest” showed up a few minutes later. Joe hardly recognised her. Chao-Xing was dressed as any western girl. An off-white blouse, reddish skirt with a flower motif printed on, just reaching her knees. Her long black hair, flowing over her shoulders. She had big sunglasses on her eyes. Instead of the expected high-heeled shoes, Chao-Xing had simple little pumps on her feet.

She looked like any other South African girl in the same surroundings of the mall. It’s only when Chao-Xing removed her sunglasses, shifting them up on her head, and if you looked closely, you could vaguely see an eastern resemblance, mostly her slightly slanted eyes.

“Hello Blue,” Chao-Xing said, sitting down to the side of Joe. Joe wondered if she would take that seat. He deliberately chose to sit facing the door, knowing that it would irritate the girl. She’s always alert, the one that is constantly aware of her surroundings. She likes to sit, in a position, that she could see who enters and leaves the place.

“Hello Chao,” Joe said, feeling uneasy like before. This girl is a Pro. A deadly adversary. He was glad he was on her side. Or was he? “Thai Green Tea? Or would you like something else?”

“It’s such a hot day, Blue. Let’s go for that famous Rooibos iced tea you like so much,” she said, smiling. Her eyes smiled too. That put Joe somewhat at ease. Normally one could not gauge her eye expressions.

“As you wish, milady,” Joe said and signalled the waiter.

“Been a long time, Blue. Four, five years?” Chao-Xing observed.

“Yes, about right. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, this and that. You know how it goes...” Chao-Xing said, still smiling. Then her expression turned serious.

“Blue ... I’m here on business. I am in the process of concluding a deal, and I am of the opinion that it will be beneficial to you too.” She said, opening her clutch bag. She took out an envelope and handed it to Joe. Joe took the envelope but did not open it.

“Inside you’ll find a photo and an information sheet.” Chao-Xing continued. “This man plans on eliminating one Donovan Lambert and about ten girls, here in South Africa. These people are currently here...”

Chao-Xing stopped speaking as the waiter brought the iced teas. The waiter, a Taiwanese, placed the iced teas before them, bowing slightly. Chao-Xing thanked the waiter in his native language. Taiwanese is not Mandarin, but a dialect known as Hokkien, and quite different from Mandarin. The waiter smiled broadly, bowed again, then left the table.

“As I was saying, these people are currently here in Pretoria but expected in Cape Town for a Court case,” Chao-Xing said.

“I’m currently working that case,” Joe said, knowing that he can trust Chao-Xing as a professional.

“Good! Well, I was aware of that. It’s the reason that I contacted you. This man...” And Chao-Xing indicated to the envelope, still in Joe’s hand. “His name is Ludwig Hertz, ex-KGB.”

“Only that he is not in the country right now. So how does he plan on doing it?” Joe asked.

“He’ll re-enter the country either late tonight or tomorrow. Depending on how his travel plans work out.” Chao-Xing said.

“I can’t just pick him up on grounds of suspicion that he might commit a crime,” Joe said.

“Dear Blue! Inside that envelope, is all the names and contact details of all the persons involved with his South African operation, as well as a list of ... little things he’s involved with.” Chao-Xing said. “I know it will be handy for you. Just...” And she stopped speaking. Joe understood.

“I didn’t get this from you, right?” Joe said.

“Yes! You’re correct as always. Thanks for the tea, Blue. I must leave now. Maybe we’ll meet again.” Chao-Xing said and stood up.

“You’re gonna deprive me of your sparkling personality, and leave me now? What about the sushi?” Joe said.

“Rain-cheque Blue. Now I must go. Duty calls, but ... in a week or two ... I’ll contact you. Bring your lovely wife. I’ll like to catch up with her too.” Chao-Xing said.

“Okay Chao-Xing. I’ll bring her.” Joe said.

“Bye now ... and Joe ... Stay safe!” Chao-Xing said.

“One thing before you go,” Joe said. “Just, so I know I’m on good ground. Who are you working for?” Joe asked. Chao-Xing looked at him for a moment, as if making up her mind.

“The FBI, Crimes Against Children and Human Trafficking program, seconded to Interpol so that I can operate internationally. There are currently three United States girls in your country. I bet on taking Ludwig down, and take the girls home!” Chao-Xing stated flatly, turned, and left. Using his real name had Joe wondering about her. She never used real names for anybody. She once told him that, if something happened to them, it was easier on her soul.

Joe opened the envelope. Inside he found an A4 size colour photo of Ludwig Hertz. Also, he found three typewritten pages. Names and addresses and a fact sheet of crimes Ludwig had been involved with, together with proof of Ludwig’s participation! Joe smiled. He would have liked to jump up and down with exhilaration, but as always, he restrained himself.

“Got the Bastard,” Joe muttered under his breath.

(Later that same day. The Embassy of the Republic of Iraq, Jan Shoba Street, Brooklyn, Pretoria.)

A slender young Iraqi girl, dressed in the traditional shoulder-to-toe black abaya gown and hijab scarf, entered the building. She had an appointment with one of the staff. She proceeded together with the armed escort to the office of the staff member.

Expecting the girl, the staff member verified her credentials, then he opened a safe and took out a package. He handed the package to the girl. She smiled and signed for the package on the form presented to her by the official.

The young girl was then escorted back to the outside of the building. She left, using a rental car that she rented at the airport in Kempton Park, the night before. She did not open the package but drove back to a hotel in the city of Pretoria.

Once inside her room, Amirah locked the door, closed the curtains on the big window that overlooked the Union Building and gardens of the Union Building. For a moment she thought about Nelson Mandela, walking the halls of the impressive building. Maybe going for a stroll in the beautiful gardens. She was too young to ever have seen him or met him. But an Icon he was to her. If only a few more men like him were around, she would not have been here, doing what she must do. Obliged to do!

Amirah then only opened the package. Inside the package, that came by diplomatic bag to South Africa, wrapped in bubble plastic, Amirah took out a Walther PPK in 7.65 mm calibre. There were six loaded magazines as well as extra boxes of 7,65 x 17 mm ACP rounds of ammunition. Amirah smiled. There was also a silencer to be fitted to the gun barrel of the weapon.

Amirah sat down on the king-size bed. She dismantled the weapon, carefully checking every part. She was careful not to get any gun oil on the bed. Satisfied that the weapon is in good order, she reassembled the gun.

Amirah weighed the gun in her hand. It fitted well. The Walther PPK is manufactured these days only in the USA. In their Fort Smith, Arkansas facility, by the US-based subsidiary, Walther Arms Inc. Muzzle velocity of 280 metres a second. (918.6 Ft/s) The perfect weapon for her. Highly concealable for her slight figure. Amirah was happy. Now to find where Ludwig finds himself.

Amirah got up. She loaded and placed the gun in the holster, high on her right thigh. Then she opened the curtains on the big window, leaving the lace curtains closed. She took her cell phone, scrolled through the contact list. Selecting Ludwig’s number, she dialled. Voice mail.