Chapter 19

Lorie got up and climbed out of the crate. As with all women coming out of a strange situation, the first thing she did was to lift her hands to her ponytail, straighten it, and pull the elastic tight against her head. Then she arranged her clothing. Not much to straighten out there, as she was dressed in a one-piece olive-green flight suit.

“Ah! Fresh air!” she sighed, breathing in deeply. Well, the inside of the truck smelled of vegetables. So, one could only guess as to what Alex had been transporting in the truck.

“Jeez, were you in that crate all the way from Brits?” I asked.

“Nope! We nailed her in just as we landed.” Olivia offered. “That’s why we took so long to taxi. We could not fit the ponytail in!”

“Yeah! I was about to snip it off.” Leah chuckled, “But I think she would have murdered me with that crowbar Darya is swinging about.”

Darya stood twirling the crowbar around in her right hand, a grin on her face. Lorie came and sat down on the crate next to me.

“So, what’s up! I hear you’re having fun with the redhead?” she teased.

“See no evil, hear no evil, tell no lies.” I said.

“Uh-uh, spit it out!”

“Yeah, okay! If you want to know. Angie has been giving me some attention.”

“And you to her...” Giggle.

“And you? Did you not run into that hunk, the one you always dream about?”

“Nope. Not one that is up to my standard, anyway...”

But I did detect a slight lowering of the eyes and a darkening sort of blush of her face. Well, well, looks like little sister could have had a run-in of some sort.

“I think his name could be ‘Pete’, or something. Head of operations at Angel’s Express Logistics...” Leah said. “Olivia could have competition.”

“Do not!” Olivia exclaimed.

Oh my, I think I better stay out of these troubled waters. Steer clear and let the side battles be fought on their own. I’ll leave the blood spatter pattern clear from me. But I’ll get the story, no problem. Little sis will confide in her big brother. She never could hide anything from me, not even stolen chocolates. I had to get rid of the evidence for her, else her bottom would have burned for a week; if mom found out, that is.

“Sjuu!” Darya said and placed her left-hand index finger on her lips. “We’re getting to the Customs gate.” And I felt the truck come to a stop. I heard Alex conversing with someone at the front of the truck, but with the idling of the diesel engine I couldn’t make out any words. About thirty to forty seconds later the truck revved up and pulled off.

No inspection of the cargo? Strange. Very strange. But then again, Alex knew what he was doing.

The truck stopped again, then pulled away and turned to the right. We were on our way to the guest house.

“And, welcome to Namibia, Ladies and Gentlemen. We trust you will enjoy your stay,” Giggle. Darya said with a smile and that silly Tajik accent coming through strongly. Is this how the Angels slip into countries? Okay, officially they did not leave in the first place. But I at one time had to “transport” them back to South Africa after they ‘did not leave’ South Africa. And I wondered whose idea it was to box Lorie and “mail” her.

I think I’ll burn in hell for all this, but then when I reach hell, old Nick will give me my own box of matches and bag of charcoal. I’ll have to open my own business, because hell will be too small for both Nick and me.

I wondered if there were a few Namibian Dollars involved in getting the cargo through customs. One never knows, or cares to know. Sometimes, some stuff needs to be done; all is fair in love and war. This was war, or at least a campaign, but love was not far behind.

It was getting to be dusk as we pulled into the yard of the guest house. Outside, security lights were slowly starting to let their presence be known in the waning light of day. Through the curtained windows of the house, light was also showing. The trees around the two-story house were already just dark shapes in the fading light.

Alex drove up to a side door that led down to the guest house’s cellar. After the long drive and sitting on hard cargo boxes, we were all a little stiff, but sprang into action to unload the truck. The “TC Rangers” were on hand to help.

The cellar was down the stairs that led out of the garage that we stopped next to. The crates would be unloaded from the truck and placed inside the garage. Unpacking the crates would then follow, with the “more sensitive” stuff, like ammo and firearms, taken to the lower cellar.

“So, the boss came through, and here is our equipment ... and I’ll take that.” TC said as he took the crowbar from Darya. “Your pellet-gun is still with me in my room. I’ll give it to you later, Darya.”

“Okay, thanks,” she replied, and moved off to help Leah and Olivia move a crate with the help of a small electric-powered forklift.

There were more than enough hands available to unload the truck, so I stood a little to the side. When the offloading was done, TC and I would look the stuff over.

“So, how was your off time in Brits, Lorie?” I asked.

“So-so. Not much action. More playing in the pool, reading and itching to get back to work.”

“Oh,” I answered.

“Okay! Yea-yea, I did go to the Wonderboom airport to check out that little girl’s business. And what an operation it is! Cargo, pleasure flights, charter flights, you name it. She’s running the scheduling and bookings for about five flight operators and two flight schools.”

“You don’t say?”

“That Herc we flew in here? She owns thirty percent shares in it. Leah and Olivia each have shares in her business and work part-time there as well.”

“Wow. And I believe she is only seventeen?”

“Sixteen when she started it!”

“Well, she had to have some kind of help,” I said.

“One of the pilots that flew us here, Dave I think is his name, he helped her. She apparently was a street-kid, homeless and all. Dave took her in and then helped her along.

“You know they say; if you feed a stray, they move in,” I chuckled.

“Yeah well, this turned out to be a good story. But don’t go there. You might get ideas.”

“What ideas? Making money is always a good idea.”

“No. Other ideas. I say no more. Just now Darya or Nadia might visit me in the night with a sharp knife.”

“Who’s Nadia? Charley also mentioned her.”

“Another redhead red-pepper fire-eater, more like a Carolina Reaper chili on steroids!”

Lorie laughed, then smiled. “Oh, by the way, Nadia has got green eyes too, like her sister in mischief Tracy. Tracy’s a fifteen-year-old ginger redhead also with green eyes. Dave, our pilot, calls them Battery-acid and Dynamite!” Giggle. And Lorie walked off towards where the unloading was being done.

“Oh brother! Those redheads should never meet each other! Spontaneous combustion may be imminent.” I said barely under my breath.

“Welcome home,” Angie said at my shoulder. “What is it with spontaneous combustion?”

“Never mind. I’ll tell you later,” I said taking her hand. “Hi there! I missed you,”

“Missed you lots!” she said and reached up on tiptoes, kissing me a peck on the cheek. “I’ll do it better later, but now we’re in public ... Can’t risk being busted.”

“Well, promises are promises,” I said.

“Don’t expect too much! I’m still learning this kissing business.” Giggle. “So, you brought the kids some toys, I see.”

“Yeah, let them play awhile. I think there’s a wetsuit, your size, in there somewhere.”

“Oh goody! I’ll try it on later.”

“Yes, you can model it to me,” I said grinning.

“I suppose you’ll be thinking it will be more fun taking it OFF me.” Giggle.

“Now, now, Angie. Modesty. Let’s keep it clean, shall we? But I must check to see if the zipper works. Sometimes they use those ‘China-made-cheap’ kind of zippers. We can’t have you being stuck inside the suit, now can we?

Giggle. “Well, then you can cut if off to rescue me. Now, come. Mom made some nice savouries to go with coffee. I suppose you are dying of thirst for coffee? Let’s go. Let the kids play with their new toys in the meantime.”

Later in the evening I was sitting outside on the patio couch. Angie was curled up against me and leaning onto me with her feet tucked up next to her on the couch. TC came up the steps with Lorie just behind him.

“Oh, I see you two are nice and cosy over there, may we join you?” Lorie smirked.

“Make yourselves comfortable, there’s plenty space here,” Angie offered.

“I checked out the equipment. It’s complete and it looks good,” TC said as he sat down on the other couch, followed by Lorie. I looked at the arrangement and thought that TC and Lorie looked good together there. Was this just a coincidence, or am I reading more into the scene, especially the way Lorie glanced at TC when he was speaking?

“So, the survey operation is a go, then?” I asked.

“Just say the word and we’re off. Give us a day’s head start, and then fly in.”

“You go when you’re ready, I’ll follow you with the chopper a day or so later. By then you would be settled in, camp pitched, and you’ll know the lay of the land.”

“Who’s the crew on the chopper?” TC asked.

“I’ll be pilot in command; Lorie and Leah will double as co-pilots. Friederich and Lorie will interchange on flight engineering. Between Leah, Lorie and Friederich, they will do the other tasks, like sling loading and whatever else as the situation calls for. Seeing that they are all pilots with Puma experience, they will interchange in the left seat. Friederich has helicopter experience, but not on the Puma, so I’ll give him some stick time to get up to speed with the chopper. A nice opportunity for him.”

“Will you be taking passengers?”

“Yip. Gretah, Angie and Darya will be pax on the flight in.”

“Getting there with the helicopter will give me a chance to check out possible observation positions, the sort of available cover, and such.” Darya said. It seems like the Angel is starting to unwind. She is speaking more and seems to be at ease in the English language.

“Good. We’ll be going in a convoy of seven vehicles. All the stuff on the grocery list and some other paraphernalia will also be loaded onto the four Unimogs. One Landie will tow the rubber duck.” TC said and indicated that the pontoon boat will be going as well.

“Four Unimogs and three Land Rovers, it seems to be good. Are you cutting across the desert or not?”

“I’m still working on the route, but I think we’ll go south through Mariental, Gibeon, then on to Helmerringhausen. From there we’ll cut across the desert to where you want the temporary base, south of Spencer Bay. That’s a distance of about 700 to 800 kilometres.”

“Well, for us it will be 417 kilometres, straight as the crow flies,” I said. “Let’s say we give you two days head start.”

“We’ll be there by then, camp set up and waiting.”

“Use the sat phone if you want to order pizza. There’s no cell towers there,” Angie giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, Miss Know-it-all!” TC said. “By the time the pizza gets there, it will be green with hair growing on it and smelling like a week-old armpit.”

“Eeew!” Lorie said, “We’ll fly you in a pizza. It might be cold, but at least it will be fresh!”

“Thank you, Lorie, I knew you were the sensible one around here,” TC said, smiling at Lorie. I subconsciously raised an eyebrow. There seems to be electricity in the air around these two.

“Now you hurt my feelings,” Angie said. “I was just trying to be funny.”

“Humour taken. Sorry, but you left yourself wide open for my remark.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Gretah and Friederich came out of the house walking arm in arm and joined us on the patio. Immediately, when Angie saw them, she sat upright and placed her feet on the ground, a slight blush on her face. Gretah just looked at her and smiled. Friederich pretended not to notice.

Are we set then? To go sub-hunting, I mean?” he asked.

“Good time of year to go!” TC said. “The swells are about 2 to 3 metres and the water temperatures are hovering around 11 to 13 degrees Celsius,” TC answered.

“I just hope the wetsuits will keep us warm,” Angie said.

“Angie! You don’t plan on diving there, do you?” Gretah asked.

“Once under the swells, all will be good,” Angie said. “But I won’t take any risks, Mumi.”

“She’ll be fine, Gretah,” I assured Gretah. “The suits are all full suits with insulation; the best you can get.”

“It’s not the suit I am worried about. It’s the great whites around those waters.” Gretah shuddered. “They will eat anything!”

“Well part of the equipment is shark repellent.” TC intervened.

“I read somewhere that it doesn’t work so well.” Gretah said and looked directly at Angie.

“It will be loaded with 12-gauge buckshot!” TC said, trying to calm Gretah.

“AND, I’ve dived before with them around,” Angie said. “Even touched one. They are nice and placid animals. Some people just don’t understand them.”

“Angie!” Gretah exclaimed. “How did you grow up to be such a ... such a tomboy!”

“Ever since I was left to fend for myself...” Angie retorted, showing irritation. I detected the chili-pepper-pip predator awakening inside her. This can’t be good. The tiger will be out with claws and all. Nope. This must be stopped. Pronto!

“Gretah,” I soothed, “Angie will be safe. We don’t dive alone. We’ll always dive in groups and TC and his men will be covering our backs. Don’t worry. Who’s to say the sub will still be there after seventy-five years? For all we know it may even be buried deep under the sand and inaccessible; lost forever to the sea, tides and sands of time.”

“Yes, Gret, let’s cross that bridge when we get there. Angie is a big girl now. And you can be proud of her,” Friederich said.

“I’m still not convinced,” she countered.

“Have you ever scuba dived, Gretah?” TC asked.

“No. I haven’t. I think it is dangerous.”

“Yet, you fly. You’re a pilot too.”

“The most dangerous part of flying is the trip to the airport,” Gretah retorted.

“And the most dangerous part of diving is the drive to the diving boat,” I said.

“That is your opinion...”

“It might be my opinion, but it is about the same as yours. So, I rest my case your honour.”

“Let’s leave this thing for now. You all fly, I dive. End of discussion,” Angie asserted.

“Come on guys,” I helped, “It’s getting late, and TC still has to do his ten-kilo run in the morning. Let’s pack up for the night.”

“Good idea. Let’s all turn in. Come, Gret, let’s get going.” Friederich encouraged.

“I second that,” TC said.

And so, the party broke up. All started to filter into the house in pairs and triples. Lorie and Angie stayed behind for a while; I just went up to my room.

There’s a lot to do in the morning. I need to check out the helicopter and see to all the little things that could present a problem, especially the sand filters on the air intakes. The particle separators must also be checked. Then there’s the oil, and a hundred and thirty-eleven other details. I also need to find out who replaced the window glass in the cockpit. The three bullet holes were fixed, put not painted. Could only be TC and his squad. I must find out and thank them.

In my room I first had things to do before I could retire for the night. I needed to be sure about the ocean depth at the place where I plan to dive. Also, I did not trust the rubber duck. Yes, it is a good platform for diving, but it can’t take all the equipment that is necessary for the underwater exploration. So, a call had to be made.

“It’s getting late, and I need my beauty sleep. So, what’s up?” The grumpy old voice came to me.

“Just a thought.”

“Hey! You can think! Congratulations,” Charley said in mock sarcasm.

“Don’t be a smart ass! I know you are a kind-hearted old soul.”

“You’re melting me. So, what have you been thinking about? Another brain wave or a brain fart?”

“If you want me to find that stupid sub, then I need a bigger ship. Something with sonar.”

“Way ahead of you. There will be a sonar equipped ship in the vicinity of Spencer Bay at 12:00, day after tomorrow. You can’t miss her: international orange hull with white superstructure. You also may be able to land the Puma on her helipad.”

“You must be joking! That’s a hell of big ship.”

“Sure is. She belonged to the South African government. She was destined to become tins for canned foods, but I sort of saved her from that fate. Made them an offer they could not resist and took the problem off their dirty little hands.”

“Well, the only orange and white ship that could remotely be associated with the SA government that was to be scrapped, was the...”

“ ... SA Agulhas. Now rechristened in a naming ceremony as ‘Ocean Wanderer.’ Refurbished and re-engined. She has got a hell of a nice sonar and other little gadgets for looking at the seabed. She’s even got a submersible if you need to go deeper.”

“You know it’s bad luck to rename a ship, don’t you?

“If you’re superstitious, yes. It is said that when a ship is christened its name goes into the ‘Ledger of The Deep,’ maintained by Neptune. Or, if you like, Poseidon himself. There’ are various ways in renaming a ship. One such ceremony involves that you burn the old logbook, remove all traces of the previous name, and then offer alcohol to the water, the ship, and everyone there to toast the occasion. That is to make the gods forget the previous name and bless the new name of the ship. Yes, my boy, I know all about it.”

“Another legend is to have a virgin urinate over the bow!” I chuckled.

“Yeah, but where to find a willing virgin these days!”

“What the hell do you want to do with a ship like that?”

“It helps to top up my retirement fund. One can get a good chunk of change for contracting her out to researchers and that sort. It is called investment.”