Chapter 4

November 9, 10:40. Overberg Ex-military base.

I was stunned. Here I was looking into those emerald green eyes. Angie was here, right before me, dressed in an olive-green G-suit and looking like a million dollars. Her arms snaked around my neck, and I put my arms around her waist, picking her up clear of the ground. Her giggle was music to my ears.

“Hello sweetie pie! Where have you been? How come you fly a Mirage? What have you been up to?” I managed to croak.

Giggle. “Too many questions! Kiss me first, and I’ll tell you all!” Needless to say, the sizzling kiss that followed could peel paint from walls. The world and time stood still. Angie was here, here in my arms, and nothing else mattered.

The girls on the apron went quiet, looked at each other, and rolled their eyes. Even the ground crew securing the Black Widow stopped for a moment in their tracks, looking stunned at the little redhead now clinging to me. Slowly smiles returned to their faces as they realised that the cute redhead that just brought in the Mirage III, was spoken for.

“You can put me down now...” Giggle. A jubilant Angie whispered in my ear, as we came up for air. “There are people around watching us, you know.”

“Angie, Angie, my sweet Angie, I missed you too much,” I managed to say. My heart was beating fast. My love was here.

“So put me down. I keep smelling myself and need a shower. I don’t know what the boss paid for that aircraft, but he could have gotten a better air-conditioner in it,” she griped as I placed her back on her tiny feet.

“Told you!” Mai-Loan said.

“What the hell have you done to Angie! Is she now an associated Angel too?”

“We’ll discuss that later,” Mai-Loan said and turned around. “Come, let’s not keep our guests from dehydrating out here on the blistering apron.” And Mai-Loan, Lorie and the rest of the girls walked back to the hangar. Angie put her arm around my waist, I draped my arm across her shoulders, and we followed.

“I’ll get my bags later; they’re in the Cessna. No space in the Black Widow,” She giggled, almost as giddy as a fifteen-year-old.

“You flew that Mirage?”

“Well, you have seen me fly her in and land her! It’s a long story, but a natural progression for me. Took me nearly eight months, but yeah, she’s a doll. She flies well.” Angie explained as we followed the other girls into the hangar. “The first time I flew her I felt like doing a rain dance, only to realise I took off but had still to get her — and myself — down on the runway without smearing ourselves across the tarmac! I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“You better tell me, I’m as excited as a schoolboy. You were flying a jet fighter! That’s great!” I exclaimed, and Angie stopped in her tracks, looking up at me with a cloud in her eyes.

“So, you’re not mad at me? You like it that I can fly the jet?”

“Of course, sweetie pie! It’s just great.”

“Phew, I thought there would be another write-up in your little black book towards my five-year-long outstanding spanking.” Giggle.

“No write-up, but we’ll discuss the spanking later.”

“Okay, we’ll leave it for later. I also might need a back scrub with my shower. Do you know where I could get a good one?” Fluttering eyelashes and emerald green eyes looked up at me.

“I have just the place and the tools for the job!”

Giggle.

“We’ll just have to get rid of Nadia for a while.”

Why? Is she your roommate?

“Well ... it worked out that way.”

“I thought you’d take Darya as a roommate, but I suppose Nadia is safe as a roommate.” Giggle. And I suddenly realised that Angie knew more of the goings-on here then was apparent. Did she have contact with Mai-Loan all the time?

At twenty-five Angie still giggles, and it makes me just want to wrap her up in my arms and smother her in kisses.

Angie and I, entered the hangar. The five Angels and Lorie had somehow secured some welcome cool drinks and snacks.

“I suppose we won’t be flying today,” Darya stated, looking a little dejected while munching on a snack.

“I won’t be flying today, but I think that between Leah and Olivia you might get some back-seat time,” I said, looking over to Mai-Loan, our chief of operations and mission co-ordinator.

“I’ll team Olivia with Darya, and Nadia can go with Leah. That way all get to fly and Olivia and Leah both get to fly the 2000 N as well. They can do an hour or two each.” Mai-Loan reported. I looked down into the smiling face of Angie. A naughty light reflected in her eyes, but she said nothing.

“Something cold and wet for you, Ash?” Angie asked as she reached for two glasses of cool tropical fruit drink.

“Thanks, Angie. It sounds good.” I said.

She turned back to me, handing me a glass of cool drink, then smiled and winked at me. She looked so sexy in her G-suit, the ginger red tresses flowing over her shoulders. She must have seen or sensed something, for she reached up to me and whispered in my ear:

“You can help me by unwrapping me later. This G-suit is bloody hot to be in.” Giggle. A shy, naughty smile flashed across her face.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Just a little small hole in my tummy. I had something to eat before I flew out of ‘Nagt-Wagt Aerodrome,’ but that was an hour and a half ago. Why?”

“I’ll take you to Arniston for a nice lunch. Let’s go grab your bags from the Cessna and vacate this gruesome scene.”

“Ooo! A nice restaurant and with the beach in sight. Let’s go. But I need to get out of this G-suit, and a shower first.”

“Are we ever going to get to go to lunch?”

“Maybe ... but not straight away.” Giggle. “I’ll survive an hour or two.” Angie teased, winking at me, her green eyes flashing. Lorie looked over at us, smirked and then deliberately looked away. I wonder what she was thinking. And when did Angie get to be so ... Never-mind.

November 9, 12:15. Overberg Ex-military base.

A bank of cirrostratus was high overhead in the deep blue sky. To the trained eye, the appearance of these clouds signifies an approaching front in three- or four-day’s time; sometimes a warm front, sometimes a cold front, but a front is approaching.

Reflecting the sky, the ocean was dark blue. This usually meant the sea was cold. The bluer the sea, the colder it was. Here in Arniston the sea’s chill was due to the nearness of the Atlantic Ocean. The imaginary border between the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic Ocean is only a few kilometres to the west at the most southern point of Africa, L’Agulhas, or also known as Cape Agulhas.

Arniston was previously known as “Waenhuiskrans,” due to a cave right on the waterline of the ocean. At low tide one could walk into this cave, the size of which was such that an ox wagon, and a full span of oxen could shelter inside. Thus, the Afrikaans name of “Waenhuiskrans.” Literally translated as “Wagon-garage-cliff.”

On 30 May 1815, an East Indianman freighter of the British East India Company, the Arniston, having made eight successful voyages for the East India Company, ran aground near Waenhuiskrans during a storm, resulting in the loss of 372 souls. Only six persons survived the tragedy.

A memorial monument was erected on the site, and the remains of the wreck of the wooden three mast East Indiaman can still be seen today, laying in the shifting white sands on the beach. That what is left of the wreck, is only the ribbing from the bottom of the ship.

Today the name “Arniston” and “Waenhuiskrans” are used interchangeable for the fishing village with its lime-washed and thatched roof houses. Although, a well-known holiday destination, the village largely remains unspoiled.

There was a steady breeze blowing from the south-east, just hard enough to ruffle Angie’s ginger hair, as we sat side by side on a wooden restaurant table and bench combination. The shade umbrella, inserted and secured in the middle of the table, ruffled slightly in the breeze. Our order of pan-fried Hake fish and chips was on the way, and we sipped an ice-cold Coke each as we waited, looking at the white surf rolling out on the Arniston / Waenhuiskrans beach.

“Seems like we’re out on a date again?” Angie asked, sucking on the straw of her coke, then swirling the ice in the glass with the straw.

“We’ve been dating now for over five years, you know.”

“And so much has happened in those five years,” she sighed.

“Yes, you had a busy program, finishing your geology degree, getting your masters in archaeology and finishing your Doctorate.”

“And in that time in-between, Lorie took me through getting my Private Pilot Licence and all the ratings thereafter, and the last eight months getting proficient in the Mirage,” Angie mused, as she looked out over the beach and the surf rolling in. The misty glint of memories showed in her eyes.

“How did that come about?” I asked.

“Well, I was getting some stick time in an Aero Vodochody L-39 Albatros, I went solo in it and then that phantom boss of yours told Lorie to start looking for someone to fly the Mirage III. So, I volunteered,” she reminisced, her green eyes shining. “I thought it would be the ultimate thrill.”

“It sure is a thrill to fly that machine, and it looks like you got what it takes. How many hours do you have?”

Giggle. “Not as much as you, but around a thousand hours. Two hundred and twenty-three in the Mirage.”

“Wow! Two hundred and twenty-three hours in eight months. That’s just about around twenty-seven hours a month! You’ve been a busy girl.”

“Yip! But I love it. Especially firing the missiles!” Angie said excited.

“You know, Angie, twenty years ago, I flew that very same Mirage: the Black Widow.”

“Wow! Ash! I was only five then,” Angie exclaimed.

“I was twenty, and life was just sweet and enjoyable, not a care in the world.”

“I thought the Black Widow was younger,” Angie mused.

“Look at her logbook, she’s fifty years old.”

“But well maintained, and her airframe is well-preserved.”

“She only went supersonic two times,” I said.

“Three times.” Giggle.

“You took her supersonic?”

“Mach one point eight.”

“Angie, Angie, you little rascal you.”

“Don’t tell Lorie, or she’ll get to spank me before you could do it.” Giggle. “She’s protective of that black and gold Mirage III.”

“I think I must revise my little black book.”

Giggle.

“So, what happened in that cave?”

“At Smitswinkels Bay?” Angie asked, and a cloud passed her eyes. She looked away from me and took a long draw on her Coke. “I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she shuddered after a short silence.

I reached next to me and took her hand in mine.

She looked back at me, “I was in one of the back tunnels of the cave. The cave is a long ‘L’ shaped tunnel with five large caverns. I had never been into that fifth cavern. Well, while I was in the tunnel, I saw something in the light from my headlamp, shining ahead in the cavern. I went in and found a metal box. The box was unlocked and looked new. I opened the box and found it was packed with guns and ammunition. There were handguns and three R5 rifles in the box.”

“Good God, and then?”

“I took my cell phone and photographed the box and the guns inside. Before I could close the box, I heard voices behind me in the tunnel. I scrambled into a dark alcove because I knew I was trapped with no way out of the cavern. Six dark-coloured men came into the cavern with torches, and I could see in the light they were making that they had handguns in the waistbands of their denim pants.”

“Did they see you?”

“No, not immediately. They were more concerned with the open box. I stood there, in the dark alcove and just wished they go away.”

“What were they doing?”

“They stood around and then started to count the firearms. Then they closed the box and placed it on a trolley. Then one of them started to shine his torch on the ground. He must have seen my footprints in the dust and sand on the cave floor, because he silenced the others and shone his torch all along my footprints. I knew that I had to do something before they saw me.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I crouched down, got a loose rock and threw it to the other side of the cavern. The clattering of the rock falling on the cavern floor on the other side got their attention, and they all pulled out their guns and went over to that side. That gave me a chance to get out of the alcove and run for the cave entrance. They saw me and two fired their guns at me. Lucky the tunnel made a dogleg at that point, and I could get out and through to cavern number four before they could fire again at me. There was a secondary tunnel off to the right of this cavern, so I ran in there. This tunnel opened up into a small opening on the surface of the cliff above the main cave.”

“So, you got away?”

“I had to climb a little to the opening, but got out. Then I just ran to get back to camp. By that time, it was getting dark outside, so I was lucky to slip away in the dark.”

“But they saw you?”

“Yes, because the next day some guys came to the camp and asked for me by giving a description of me. I was in my office in the camp and heard them speaking to my assistant. He just told them that I was not available, and that I went back to the university. This did not sit well with them, and they started to search the camp. I climbed through a window at the back of my office and just ran.”

“How did you get away?”

“I circled the camp and took one of our cars. They were somewhere inside the buildings and only heard the car pulling away when I was about out of the camp gate. I just drove and took the road over Misty Cliffs and Kommetjie back to the main road and just went towards the N2 Highway.”

“Where did you go?”

“I phoned Lorie, and she said I must come to Bredasdorp. Took me two hours, but I made it to Bredasdorp and Lorie.”

“Shit, Angie, you must have been scared to death. Why did you not call me?”

“Your phantom boss advised against it. He said that I must lie low and not use my phone or contact anyone. All communication must go through Lorie until he could find why the guns were in the cave.”

Why did Lorie not call me?”

“She did not want to trouble you with it, besides, I was safe with her and in Bredasdorp.”

“What were you doing in the cave in the first place, Angie?”

“A skull was found in the cave, and your phantom boss financed the archaeology excavation project. I was there to oversee the project and report back to a professor at the university of the Witwatersrand.”

“WITS,” I said.

“Yes, WITS,” Angie affirmed. At that time our food arrived.

“So, what is the significance of this skull find?”

“Well, it is all hush hush now, but I can trust you with it. It not only proves that there was intelligent Homo Sapiens living around the coast of South of Africa, but the skull also is proof of the first murder on the Cape coast!”

“What? How?”

“There was an arrow impaled in the skull. Carbon 12 dating was done, and the skull and arrow were dated at around 75000 years. The only problem with that is that the oldest proven arrow in the world was found in South Africa and dated at 61000 years old!”

“So?”

Ash, Ash, time is important in history.”

“So, what is a few thousand years difference.”

“It proves that bows and arrow did originate in Africa and were available to the descendants of the middle Stone Age in South Africa,” Angie explained, and started to eat her seafood lunch. (Fish and chips is seafood.) “Besides, we were searching for the rest of the body that belonged to the skull but found nothing.”

“Well, there could be a few explanations for that,” I said forking some fish into my mouth.

“Like what?”

“Like the ‘murder’ did not take place there. Or that some Tyrannosaurus Rex got hold of the body and had it for lunch.” I said. Or a pterodactyl grabbed the head and flew off with it to where you found it in the cave.

“ASH! The Tyrannosaurus Rex and his buddies died 65 million years ago! There’s no way one could have been around 75000 years ago!” Angie laughed.

“Sorry, just trying to help.”

That got me swatted on my biceps. “Ouch!”

“Eat your food and leave the archaeology to me.”

“Yes Doctor.” I retorted and got swatted again.

“Stop being funny. You’re one too! Don’t think Lorie did not tell me one of your secrets, Doctor Windsor! I know about your Ph.D. in aeronautical engineering.”

“Ah, gee whiz! A guy can’t keep secrets with sticky-icky around,” I sighed. “Are we going home to the base after eating?” I asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Do you feel like playing doctor-doctor? I asked, and Angie smiled, looked up at me with a sparkle in her green eyes.

“So, let’s finish eating and then go play doctor-doctor. Remember to bring your stethoscope. I feel a pain just here,” Angie said laughing, putting her left hand over her right breast. “You better find out what is wrong with me and treat the ailment. An injection might cure the pain.” Giggle. Green eyes twinkled and eyelashes fluttered.

November 10, 11:00, Cape Town, Hanover Park.

The white BMW 7 Series turned right onto Kromboompark Way, leaving the suburb of Hanover Park. The car would follow the northbound lane until the intersection with Settlers Way where it will turn left, following Settlers Way into the city of Cape Town. Eventually the car would follow the road along the slopes of Table Mountain until it would end up in Upper Kloof Nek Road, before turning on its final stretch of the journey towards Signal Hill.

In the front passenger seat, a bodyguard sat munching on a matchstick in his mouth, looking unconcernedly out the side window towards the cars on the highway. He was concerned about the boss going to a meeting outside of the Domain, away from the protection of the brotherhood. But the boss is the boss, and he wanted to meet a whitey from up-country, and that is the boss’s business.

Rashaad Williams was perched on the right side back seat, half sitting on his seventh vertebra with his knees up and his feet on a raised footrest, reading messages on his cell phone. Only his head was visible from the outside of the car. The air-conditioner was running at maximum cooling and Rashaad was not worried about anything.

Life was good for Rashaad. After the meeting with the whitey guy from up-country, he would go to his Long Street tavern and get some tension relief. There was a new girl on the staff there, a young thing. He would go see how good she really was.