Chapter 11

November 13. 18:15 SAST, Table Bay, Cape Town.

The last of the sun’s rays cast a bright orange glow from the west. As the sun set below the horizon, little black lines emerged on the smooth surface of the sea: shadows of the swells thrown on the water. Only the deep orange glow remained, slowly changing to a deep crimson. Then that too would be gone soon. Another day had passed.

The remaining two harbour cranes slipped by on our right side. I flipped the Puma over on her starboard side in a thirty-degree bank as the main harbour entrance approached. We flew past the enormous breakwater that stretched out into the sea, just like a huge finger pointing to nowhere.

Inside the helicopter there was a deafening silence; nobody said a word. I became aware of a peculiar constriction in my neck and chest. They had intended to leave the harbour early, bringing Roxy with them. Was Nakamura aware of the impending rescue attempt?

“How far could they get in three hours?” Angie asked.

“Sixty nautical miles...” Olivia replied. “It just depends on where they went, up the coast to the north or south towards Cape Point.”

“I believe they went south. They want to meet Williams on the high seas at midnight tomorrow night. The co-ordinates are somewhere south of Cape Point,” I said.

“We’ve got fuel for two hours. Let’s fly south along the west coast of the Cape,” Lorie said.

“Affirmative, let’s go!” Mai-Loan confirmed, and I turned the Puma around towards the west.

The mountains and rugged shoreline of the Cape Peninsula glowed dull yellow in the fading light as we flew over Green Point Stadium, Sea Point, and Bantry Bay. There wasn’t much time to detect the ship, and they may be operating without lights, though I doubt it. It’s unlawful, and the captain of the ship will be well aware of it.

“I’m calling Charley!” Mai-Loan said.

“I thought you said his name is Boss?” Darya asked of Mai-Loan.

“Grumpy Charley is the consensus, now stick with it!” Mai-Loan retorted as she plugged in her cell phone earbuds and proceeded to put them in her ears under her headset.

Giggle. “So Ash won the duel,” Leah said, while the rest of the angels just smiled.

“Quiet now! I can’t listen to two speakers at once,” Mai-Loan said.

I just kept my expression neutral and kept on flying, ascending to 3500 feet mean sea-level. Here at the coast, we work in height above sea level. Deeper into the country, we use height above ground level. This altitude gave me, and the rest of the crew, an advantage to spot the ship.

The sea had gone a lead metal grey, while the mountains to our left had darkened nearly to black. Little pin pricks of white and yellow lights began to appear all around the shoreline. Red and white lights from passing automobiles could be seen along the dark side of the mountain, as they wound their way along the road above the shore, climbing towards Sugerbush pass and then down the incline towards Hout Bay.

We continued south, passing by Hout Bay, Noordhoek, Kommetjie, and Misty Cliffs. There was no trace of a ship. Nothing floating, not even a modest fishing boat. My mood was deteriorating. What the heck happened to the ship? We should have found them by now, if they had gone south. Cape Point was approaching, and there was still no indication of any vessel. Damn!

Mai-Loan had moved her boom mike away from her face; therefore I could not catch what she said to Charley. The humming of the turbines and the whistling of the main rotors effectively droned out any normal hearing or speech.

We reached Cape Point, and I could see the lighthouse on the lower slopes of the cliff flashing out its identification: the three flashes in a group every thirty seconds that could be seen as far away as thirty-four nautical miles. The light was rated at 10 million candelas. Standing next to the reflector, although there are no ultraviolet emissions, I suppose your eyes would be fried by the intensity of the light itself. At 12.75 Lumen to 1 candlepower, you are looking at a staggering 127 500 000 Lumen! A lot of candles to light each night.

“We can go home...” Mai-Loan sighed. “Charley says the satellite will only be overhead Cape Town in the morning around 09:32. Roxy’s cell signal was still coming from the harbour after we saw the ship was gone. It seems like they ditched her phone to throw us off the scent. Somehow, they knew we were coming.”

“Dammit!” TC exclaimed. There was a murmur of other voices adding to his disgust.

“Well, seems like we can’t get anything done right now. Home, James, and don’t spare the horses!” Lorie chipped in.

“Yip, let’s try again in the morning,” Angie said.

“Okay, here is what we do. I’ll drop you Angels at Cape Town International. You bring the cars to the Newlands place. I’ll refuel and fly there with TC and his guys. Angie, Mai-Loan, when you get there at Newlands, see to the lighting on the pad outside the shed. I’ll land, and we can hide the bird in the shed there,” I instructed.

“Got you, Archangel!” Mai-Loan said and whispered something to Angie who burst out laughing. The rest of the crew just looked at them without catching what was said.

“I’m taking a short-cut around Cape Point and over Muizenberg, to FACT,” I announced. Everyone seems satisfied. I had a feeling that TC and his men were a little tired and hungry. It was a long day for them.

November 13. 19:10 SAST, Newlands, Cape Town.

The suburb of Newlands sprawls along the lower slopes on the eastern side of Table Mountain. That is the back side of the mountain and not familiar to the tourists. Huge trees and shrubs line the streets and properties. And as with the trees and other vegetation, the houses and properties are large.

Our temporary base, named “Arcadia”, a place or scene of simple pleasure and quiet, was not to be shamed by the other properties in this neighbourhood. Nope, a large three-story palace with a thatched roof in pure Cape Dutch style adorned the property. A long, straight paved driveway led from the street gate to the big paved space in front of the house. It then continued around the south of the house, past six double garages, then through a lush green garden to end at an eight-foot-high gate into the small street on the west side of the property.

An eight-foot-high brick wall surrounded the property, and I would not dare take a guess its length around the property. The trees in the garden were big, green and high; some at least eighty to a hundred years old. Thankfully there was a clear area of about one hundred metres square next to the shed. (100 metre × 100 metre. Not 100 square metres that is 10 metre × 10 metre) The shed itself was more like a hangar than a shed. Charley did spend some bucks on this place. I estimate that you could fit six or eight rugby fields on this property.

An Olympic sized pool and two tennis courts were part of the features of this place. What does Charley want all these properties for, and how do they work for him? This place could be a nice bed and breakfast, a small hotel in the evergreen belt of Cape Town.

After securing the Puma in her new temporary abode, TC and I walked back to the house. TC had his kitbag slung over his shoulder, and I, carrying my flight bag and helmet went in the side entrance on the south side. He glanced sideways at me.

“Archangel? What gives?” He asked.

“Mai-Loan’s idea. She was losing an argument with me and then tried to soothe my ego, thinking that she’ll win that way,” I chuckled.

“Women!” TC exclaimed. “They will always play the charm card!”

“Yip. That happened when I found out that they assimilated Angie into the folds of the Angels.”

“Damn! You don’t say! And what does Angie contribute to the Angels?”

“Flying Mirage and Cheetah multi-role aircraft. Shooting down Mirages. Two of them in a single pass,” I smirked.

“I say no more. Let me be quiet!” TC said and hitched his kitbag to a more comfortable position.

“Let’s go see if Charley left us some 15-year-old Glenlivet.”

“I won’t get my hopes up!” TC chuckled. “I just hope there’s some grub in this mansion of a house. I’m starving!”

“Oh, don’t sweat! The girls will somehow scrape something together. Trust me!”

“Yeah, but maybe to feed this small army we need to call in some take outs. And by take outs I don’t mean hamburgers!” he said. I laughed. By this time, we were at the door of the house, and TC stood aside for me to enter first.

“Archangel before the lord of war,” he chuckled.

We walked down the passage and through a heavy oak door into a small cosy lounge. All the girls were there and seated around on the chairs and couches.

“See! The lovely ladies of Arcadia.” I announced.

“This must be Shangri-la!” TC said as he swung his kitbag to the floor.

“Ah, here’s the two strays now!” Mai-Loan retorted. “TC, I have got your guys to go and sort out their sleeping arrangements on the first floor. They all share, so, I don’t know who you will share with, but do try to get yourself sorted out.”

Lorie coughed, and all eyes turned to her. “What!” she exclaimed. Giggles and laugher erupted.

“And the same goes for you, Ash,” Mai-Loan instructed.

“Yes dear,” I said. The giggles and laughter were a little louder.

“Don’t you, yes dear, me! What’s for supper?”

“Oh, TC said anything but hamburgers. So, use your imagination,” I retorted.

“There’s a place down in Main Street that has home cooked meals to be delivered,” Angie said. “I looked at their menu online, and it seems tonight their special is lamb stew and veggies.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan. Angie, order for us, please,” Mai-Loan said and held out her hand to me. “Credit card?”

“Yes dear. Next time I’ll order, and YOU pay!”

“If there’s a next time. Seems like I need a frying pan to put Mai-Loan in her place,” Angie said, giggling.

“See! I told you, she’s just waiting for a chance to slug you!” I told Mai-Loan, giving her my credit card.

“Bloodthirsty little ... Never mind,” she said and took my card. “Supper is on Ash!”

Angie giggled and sidled up to me. “Is Mai-Loan bullying my Piggy-wiggy?” And then kissed me on the cheek for emphasis. A riot erupted in the lounge, with giggles and laughter. Mai-Loan looked at me and tilted her head sideways, making kissing lips and saying with a smirk; “Piggy-wiggy...” Giggle.

I just smiled, at least Angie has a pet name for me.

With supper done and dusted, we all found something to go do. TC did find a bottle of 15-year-old Glenlivet in the well-stocked bar. Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, he poured us each a measure and handed me one.

“So, let’s see what the hype is all about. This will be my first Glenlivet,” He said, then took his first sip, closed his eyes, and “Hmm ... I can get used to this. Man! Fire in the hole!”

“Okay, looks like you survived this. Here goes...” And I took my first sip of Charley’s preferred poison. “Yip, tastes like orange and vanilla. Keynotes are apple and citrus. I might be convinced, but I like the woody taste of Glenfiddich.”

“Yeah, but you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, now do you?” TC commented. We both laughed, walked over to a couch, and sat.

“What’s the plan, going forward?” TC asked.

“It all depends on where we find the ship,” I said, taking a sip of my scotch.

“She could be anywhere by now. You think they went south?”

“That is the only logic.”

“What’s her speed?”

“She makes 24 knots through the water. I estimate it will take her about 5 hours to be on station.”

“So she could be already there?”

“If that is where they went...”

“What do you mean, Ash?”

“Think strategy. If they know that we are tracing them, then they would know we know where they are. So, ditch the phone and go hide out until they can go to the rendezvous point,” I said. “Else they would be early, and an anchored ship out on the high seas does poorly in South Atlantic weather.

“Where can you hide a hundred- and thirteen-thousand-ton ship?”

“In plain sight!”

“What?”

“I said, in plain sight. Think.”

“Don’t play games with me brother-in-law-to-be, maybe!”

“They don’t know we now have access to a helicopter. So, where is the best place to dash to quickly, and hide a container ship 300 metres long, and thirteen stories high?”

“Hout Bay?”

“Too shallow and not wide enough to turn the ship around.” I said, then took a sip of my Scotch. “And too visible from land.”

“And False Bay is large enough, but also visible from land.” TC said. “So, where?”

“If they were in False Bay, we would have spotted them. No, I can kick myself that I did not think of it sooner.”

“Come on! Where?”

“North side of Robben Island ... Or even west of Dassen Island.”

“What!”

“It’s close, out of the eye, and explains why they disappeared so fast,” I said and drained my Scotch. Not something to do with such a fine whisky, but I needed results fast. I took out my cell phone and selected a number from speed dial. “I think Dassen Island is a better bet; it is out of sight of Cape Town.”

“You called?” Charley said.

“Sorry for the late call, but do you have contacts on Robben Island and even Dassen Island?”

“I might. Why?”

“I need confirmation if a Japanese container ship is anchored offshore on the north side of the Robben Island, or maybe the west of Dassen island.”

“You think they dashed there and are hiding out?”

“Yes.”

“Give me twenty to forty minutes.”

“Good, call me.”

“How’s the Glenlivet?”

“Not bad. I can get used to it. A bit fruity, but nice.”

“Thought you would like it. Get another one.”

“Nope, I might be flying before first light.”

“Good.” And the line went dead. I dropped my phone back in my pocket.

“Do you have maps of these two islands?” TC asked, his thinking expression on his face.

“In my flight bag. Let me go fetch it.”

“Okay, mind if I get myself another Scotch? I don’t fly, you know.”

“Go ahead. Maybe pour me one too. I’ll let Olivia and Leah fly, and I’ll go in with you.”

“I’ll fix you up with a MP7 and a vest.” TC smirked.

“Thanks!” I said and went up to my room.

Returning to the small lounge, I placed three nautical maps on the coffee table.

“Here are maps of Table Bay showing the two Islands, then there’s detail maps of Robben Island and Dassen Island,” I said to TC.

“Then let’s have a look.”

“My bet is Robben Island. The water is deep around the north and west of the island. But there’s a no-entry zone north of the island.”

“And at Dassen?” TC asked.

“It’s a marine protected area, but there’s a spot off the coast near West Bay. The water is only about nine feet deep, but further out it goes down to forty-two feet, deep enough for a container ship.”

“And she’ll be protected from sight from land.”

“Yes, but not from the Island. Let’s hope the bird watcher, and his wife are still awake.”

“One tends to forget there’s a breeding colony of penguins on the island,” TC sighed.

“And, about five thousand and thirty eleven seagulls stinking up the place!” I reminded him.

“I suppose if you live on the island you get used to the aroma...” TC chuckled.

Just then my cell phone rang. Charley.

“Yip!”

“Got your info. Nothing around Robben Island. All ships seem to have docked, but about two nautical miles off the west coast of Dassen Island there seems to be a large ship at anchor. It’s showing anchored lights fore and aft, and contrary to sea law, it has no deck lights on. Facing into the wind. The guy had a telescope and could make out a Japanese flag and the words ‘Maru’ and ‘Tokyo’ on the stern.”

“Well, well, well, seems like we have an ID.”

“You plan to hit them tonight still?”

“Yes.”

“After savouring some Glenlivet?”

“I’m going in with TC. Olivia and Leah can fly the bird.”

“They have two tonnes of coke aboard, plus an unwilling passenger. That makes it drug trafficking AND human trafficking. I feel like getting the boys in blue in on this.”

“And we just hover around and pick up the crumbs from the table?”

“I’ll advise them that you will be around as help, in-case of fire.”

“I want Roxy; you can get whatever else you want. I want Roxy safe and sleeping in her own bed.”

“Got you loud and clear, my boy. Now, let me get the blue boys going. Just remember, if Nakamura is on board, and he sees you, he will know it was you that crossed his path!”

“Bring it on.”

“Remember what happened in Namibia? Just make sure you wear a vest this time around.”

“You really care for me, Charley?”

“So does Angie! Get back to her safely, Ash.”

“I’ll see to it that I get back to Angie.”

“Good, now let me go and get the ball rolling. I’ll call you with the details,” and he disconnected.

I turned to TC, “Charley is getting the boys and girls in blue to take lead on this one.”

“Oh shit. But maybe it will be for the best. Let me go prep the rest of the gang ... ah ... squad. Just now you confuse us with the street scum out there on the flats.”

“And yet, you risk your life for one of those street scum’s girlfriends.”

“Ash, I see her as an agent for us. If this is over, I believe Roxy will revert to better paths,” TC said and turned to leave.

“I hope for that. This is not the world for little girls to play in.”

TC looked over his shoulder, “Tell that to the Angels! I love them all and hate to take them out on a mission with me, knowing that one or two might not make it to breakfast the next day...” he softly said, and went off to get the squad.

Maybe, just maybe I should get me another refill of Glenlivet.

November 13. 19:50 SAST, Aboard the Akenomyosei Maru.

The sea was moderate. The swells were just running under the Akenomyosei Maru as she lay pitching in the water, two nautical miles offshore from a little island and sixty-five nautical miles north of Cape Town. The only light visible was her mooring lights, showing a ship at anchor; all other lights were switched off. The non-essential crew were all told to go to their quarters and remain there.