Chapter 13

(There was a meeting in an unnamed place somewhere in Luderitz.) The men in the room were silent as they watched Max Schneider reading through a document before him. There have been some setbacks in their search for the missing sub, U-398.

First, the girl had somehow accessed the funds in the bank and changed all the authorization codes. Now Max and the others had been cut off from funds essential to their purpose. Not that it would be a problem; between them they could raise the money needed to complete the enterprise.

Secondly, Max had failed on two occasions to abduct the girl, and even with his bold move to take her from the Rothman house, that damn Afrikaner Boer had again intervened and foiled their plans.

Thirdly, that cursed South African had been able to fly the aircraft out of the desert, and he has taken the girl along with him. The damn Boer, the girl, and the aircraft all disappeared without a trace.

Max was in a murderous state of mind. They’d better not cross him or ask too many questions. This was going to be a decisive meeting. How to proceed? Some of them were in favour of expediting things by starting to torture the ones that started it all. But here again, Max put his foot down. They need the girl to put pressure on the two detainees. Already they are starting to attract attention from outsiders, and who knows to whom that South African reports?

Adolf Von Marsdorf sat with his head bowed, thinking. Was this South African not a plant? Someone who is working for some government agency? But how? How would anyone outside this ring know about the enterprise to salvage the sub? Surely someone here around this table would not have talked. It would be to their own benefit to stay quiet.

The soft buzzing sound of Max’s cell phone vibrating on the oak table shattered the quiet of the room. Max looked at the display and seemed annoyed, then he grabbed the cell phone. It must have been a message because Max stood up.

“Gentleman, please excuse me for a moment, but this is important,” Max said, and walked around the table, up the stairs, and left the room.

About ten minutes later, Max re-entered the room. He walked around the table and sat down in his chair at the head of the table.

“Well, gentleman, good news and bad news,” Max said. Everyone’s eyes were on Max.

“The good news is, the girl and the South African have been found, as well as the aircraft. All three are in Swakopmund.” Max said and hesitated a moment. He looked at the men around the table and then continued: “But we lost them again. One, the girl, boarded a private light aircraft bound for an unknown destination. The South African boarded a flight to Windhoek; where in Windhoek we don’t know. If he arrived in Windhoek, we don’t know, but we’ll assume he did go to Windhoek.”

“I assume that he has completed his job in flying the aircraft out, but why to Swakopmund? Was he not contracted to fly it here, to Ludritz?” Adolf asked.

“You assume correctly. He has completed his mission. His taking a flight to Windhoek suggests that he is leaving and needs to get an international flight to wherever he goes. But he is still due his payment from Rothman. He did not collect, and he has flown the aircraft to Swakop instead. It could be that the girl is onto Roland’s scheme. Why else did she close the bank accounts? She has access to millions now, therefore she could have chosen to pay the South African to fly the aircraft to Swakopmund,” Max said. “Pay him more than what Roland offered. She is now becoming a dangerous and cunning person; someone not to be underestimated.”

“Renting a private aircraft confirms that idea of yours,” Adolf said. “But where would she go, and why just leave the DC-3 in Swakop?”

“Gentleman, we need to rethink our plans. I have a feeling this girl knew all the time what was going on, and just waited for the right moment to intervene.”

“How did you come to know this now,” One other man asked.

“I had their place in Swakopmund watched for If the girl went there. She did go there but evaded my team. How she knew about them is still a mystery. The team nearly had them, but they got away. The team also said that the South African found a package on the aircraft that was something Roland wanted. They overheard the girl and the South African speaking. Tried to get them but failed. They went to the aircraft, got the package, and high-tailed it back to Roland. They gave him the package,” Max said.

“So, Roland’s got the diamonds? What about the journal, did they not find that?” Adolf asked.

“Apparently not,” Max said.

“So what do we do now?” Adolf asked.

“The girl will make a move somehow that will reveal her hiding place. Then we got her. With the South African out of the way, we nail her once and for all,” Max said.

“So we wait...” Adolf sighed.

“Let’s reconvene in a week’s time. I think we will have better insight then,” Max said.

“Let’s move the two Rothmans to a better location. I suggest Mercury Island, In Spenser Bay. It’s offshore and away from the eyes that may watch. It’s also better defendable, and they can’t swim ashore.” Adolf said.

“Why?” Max asked.

“As I said. Better to defend and if the girl suspects her parents are alive, she might even know where they are being held. So, if she can get resources to help her, we would have moved the parents, and they would not be where the girl suspects them to be.”

“All in favour, of moving the traitors?” Max asked. Four hands went up. “Good, we move them. Adolf will you see to it?” Max asked.

“I’ll see to it. No problem,” Adolf said.

“Good! Gentlemen, good day!” Max said. The meeting was over.

(Back to Ash.)

A little while later after our “meet and greet,” supper was served and there was a jovial mood among the men and women gathered in the huge dining room. Some have not been to Africa in a while and so the chatter was mostly about who did what, when, and where ... the normal chit-chat around where friends meet.

The three girls seem to stick together, although when prompted took part in the general chit-chat and jokes. TC, short for Theodore Charleston, sitting across the table from me grinned and said:

“Don’t take that bunch of women over there too lightly. They are a great team to have with us.”

“I don’t know them that well but had some dealings with them already,” I said. “I spoke to them only once before. They seem to have it together.”

“I worked with them before,” TC said. “There are actually five of them, but I believe two are either married now or soon to be married, and their soon-to-be husbands ain’t liking it that they play with guns anymore. Actually a loss, as one of them is the same as Boomer, just better at it.”

“Damn! Can you get better than Boomer?”

“Apparently so. Boomer confirms it, but I think he had an eye on that redhead.”

“Oh, shucks! Another redhead. You know, TC, less than 2% of the world’s population has red hair, and of those 13% are in Scotland and 10% in Ireland,” I said, taking a sip of my beer. “Also, they are more sensitive to pain. Maybe a good thing her future husband convinced her to drop the soldier stuff.”

“Yeah, maybe so. She’s a small little thing. Ginger hair and green eyes, but an attitude to move mountains. And as smart as paint.”

“Sounds like the one I know. Little red-hot chili-pepper-pip. It’s her parents that we are about to take off old Max’s hands.”

“Is that why your eyes twinkle so much? I thought it might be the chance of flying the Puma!” TC laughed.

“TC, no comment and no photos, and don’t quote me on it.”

“Ah, my comrade! You have the shot right through your heart. It shows in your face!” TC said and leaned back in his chair. “Are we about to lose another good pilot?”

“Skibunny can replace me,” I said.

“There, you said it, and you know what I mean,” TC said.

“No comment. Drink up! I’ll get us another round,” I said.

“Find out if they have brandy or whisky here. This bloody beer is bloating me up,” TC said, and I got up to go in search of something better to socialize with other than beer.

(What are Lorie and Angie up to?)

Halali; a Swahili word originating from the Arabic word halal, meaning lawful or legal or permitted. Also, a German word for the signal blown on a horn marking the end of a hunt by horse. The word halali followed by an exclamation mark is also known as a German board game, known in the United States as “Tally Ho!”

Most people believe that the German soldiers who hunted here before Etosha was declared a game reserve gave the place its name of Halali Camp.

Well, here Lorie and Angie are in Africa, Namibia to be precise, and in Halali Camp. Whether it be German, or Swahili, the Halali camp was one nice place to be. An oasis in the otherwise hot and dry semi-desert of Etosha.

There’s a large difference in temperature between night and day. The rain usually comes down in hard heavy thunderstorms between November and April of each year. Temperatures below freezing and ground frost are common at night, while the day temperatures range between 20 and 34 degrees Celsius. Temperatures above 40 degrees Celsius are not uncommon.

Angie and Lorie settled into a secluded two-bedroom self-catering chalet. There were two bedrooms each with a ¾ bed, a kitchen, one bathroom, a lounge, and a braai area. The kitchen was equipped with the basic crockery and cutlery, a small oven, fridge, kettle, and a coffee/tea station. Good for the two of them. There was a restaurant, kiosk, bar, shop, and swimming pool nearby.

As the sun was dropping down orange-red into the west, Angie and Lorie sat side by side on the raised seating under the covered observation deck next to the waterhole. Each was sipping a sundowner cocktail and watching the resident leopard drinking at the waterhole. Long shadows were starting to blend into the landscape; the night slowly creeping in from the east.

“This is serene.” Lorie softly said.

“Can you believe here we sit having cocktails, and over there by the waterhole is the rarest of all animals just calmly drinking water,” Angie replied.

“Apparently she lives here at the camp.” Lorie tittered.

“So, does she know that she is part of the tourist package?”

“I doubt it. If you go up to her now, you’ll be supper for her.”

“That won’t be good for my health,” Angie chuckled.

“Neither for mine.” Lorie returned. “How do you think I’d explain to Ash what happened to you.”

“You can tell him I had wanted to take a selfie with the cat, and the cat was not in the mood for a selfie.”

“Yeah, if he will believe me. He knows you know the desert and its animals. You’re not dumb, and he’ll kill me ... dead.”

“I doubt it. He’s on a paid mission and will write off my demise as collateral damage.”

“Your death or injury inflicted incidental to your action of taking a selfie with one dangerous animal! You must be joking. Ash will kill me. He trusts me to take care of you. So, girlfriend, no photos with leopards! Wild ones, at least.”

Giggle.

“Yip, the cocktail is clouding up your head. You sure you’re old enough to drink?”

“Yip, since eighteen.”

“But you don’t look eighteen. More like sixteen or seventeen.”

“That was me three years ago.”

“What! You’re what, twenty?”

“Yes.”

“And you know Ash is thirty-five.”

“And?”

“Too old for you.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t have a romantic interest in him and you’re not his family,” Angie said, and Lorie looked over at Angie. Why did she say, “ ... not family?’ Is she suspecting something?

The leopard had in the meantime finished her drink and started to mouse off in the direction of the night hunt. Her tail slowly flicking from side to side.

“You are in love with Ash, ain’t you?”

“I don’t know ... I like him ... I miss him.”

“Yip, you have the shot right through the heart. The arrow is protruding from both ends,” Lorie said, looked away, and smirked. “It’s not been five hours since we left him on that dusty airstrip in Swakopmund.”

“Yeah...” Angie sighed.

“Are you hungry, Angie?”

“No.”

“Oh come on, girlfriend! I’m starving and there’s a nice restaurant over by the camp. Let’s go get something.”

“Okay...”

Lorie looked back at Angie and saw the far-off look in her eyes. This girl is really in love with Ash. All the signs are there, yet she seems to deny the fact. Maybe these few days away from Ashwin will give her some perspective. Lorie was having an internal struggle. Should she encourage this girl or not? It seems like Ashwin is of the same mind. Maybe, just maybe, this little redhead will be the answer to her brother’s lonely existence.

“Come, let’s go. Before you self-destruct.”

“What? Me? Self-destruct?”

“Yeah, you! You’re in love! Come, let’s go feed the inner woman, maybe you will see it too,” Lorie said and got up.

Angie sat staring at the now empty waterhole. Soon the lights will come on, and the animals come to drink. What is Ash doing now? Is he maybe thinking of her?

(What is happening at Schloss Meer Sicht?)

Roland sat on the patio, brandy in hand. Across the patio table, Max Scheinder sat back against the backrest of the patio chair. He was relaxed and content with himself. Roland on the other hand seemed to be in a mood of conflicting emotions.

The sun just settled under the horizon of the Atlantic. The night will come quickly now. The outside lights of Schloss Meer Sight have been on for a while now and were casting a bright glow over the patio and the surrounding gardens.

“Are you sure no one knows where the two traitors are kept?” Roland asked Max.

“No. No one knows, but it is getting risky. It seems like the security from the mine are suspecting that people are camping out by the old tumbled down Community Hall.”

“So, you are going to move them?”

“Yes. In a day or two. We need to secure that old building on Mercury Island first, then get a boat and ship them over,” Max said and took a sip of his brandy, placing the glass back on the patio table. “At least you got the diamonds from the plane.”

“Yes! But not the damn journal!” Roland spat. “That journal is crucial to your plans. If those two traitors don’t talk, then the other option is to use the journal. I know the bitch has recorded the data in her journal!”

“So, only the diamonds were in the package? How do we know that the girl did not place the journal somewhere else?” Max asked.

“We need the girl too,” Roland said. “She is cunning, changing the bank accounts. How did she know about the bank accounts?”

“Well, she knew you were handling her money. So there had to be a bank account with her as a beneficiary. Where we made the mistake, or rather YOU made the mistake, was to underestimate her age. She became an adult two years ago, and you were so busy trying to trace her mother and father that you lost track of time,” Max said.

“Yes! Place all the blame on me! Let me just get rid of those diamonds, and we’ll have enough funds to go ahead and find the sub.”

“Without the coordinates, it’s going to take a lifetime to search the coastline from here to Angola. That sub could have gone down anywhere along the Skeleton Coast,” Max said, draining his brandy. “And as far out as two or three kilometres. Do you know how many square kilometres that is?”

“Shit! We are still nowhere. We still need that girl and where the hell is she?”

“She boarded a private plane and flew out of Swakop. The aircraft is registered in South Africa, to some or other air charter company. It has not gone back to its base in Johannesburg, so it is still around Namibia or Botswana.”

“How come you say Botswana?”

“Well, Angelique has a passport, hasn’t she?”

“Well, yes. She has a passport. But what has that to do with where she is?”

“Look at it this way. The South African has left the country. He has completed his mission in flying the DC-3 out of Dooievlei. Only, Angelique has paid him to fly the damn thing to Swakopmund and not here. So, now she disappeared somewhere and is getting ready to nail you and me.”

“The little bitch!” Roland said, banging his fist on the armrest of his chair.

“She can be anywhere in Namibia, Botswana, or even South Africa.”

“I wonder if she will be able to muster any kind of help from someone...” Roland mused.

“I would not put it past her. She has money. If she can swing it, that is the question.”

“So what do we do?”

“Move the traitors to Mercury Island. Pressure them. Tell them we got Angelique. They won’t have a clue but to believe us.”

“And in the meantime, I get to ‘mine’ the diamonds and sell them.”

“That’s it. You go about your business, and I’ll keep up my end,” Max said and got up. “Let me get going; there’s a lot to do. You just hang in there and don’t rattle the cage too much.”

“Okay. Keep me posted,” Roland said and got up too. Roland escorted Max out to his car by the way of the garden gate.

Up on the balcony overlooking the patio, a dark shadow detatched itself from a support pillar. The shadow took a pair of headphones off its head and unplugged them from a device held in its hand. The shadow then placed the device, headphones, and a directional microphone into a bag.

Clutching the bag in its left hand, the shadow walked back into the house, smiling to itself. The “Boss” should get to know that Windsor has left and Angie was missing. Maybe good for her to be missing from Roland and Max. And now the “Boss” will be pleased to know where the other Rothmans are, and that they’re ALIVE!

Roland came back into the house deep in thought. He closed the side door and walked towards his study. He needs to find where the stupid girl went.