Chapter 13

Fish Hoek. Cape Town. Quad Five Headquarters.

Stirring up some discarded plastic shopping bags and skittering an empty cooldrink can across the main road, the sea breeze out of the south-east will soon morph into a full southeaster wind, cooling down the air. Later today the full Southeaster will howl around building corners and put the sea in turmoil, with white horses riding the crests of the swells in False Bay and breaking over the black and brown rocks along the South Peninsula east coast.

On the top of the Quad Five two-story building, hidden in the shadow of an air-conditioning unit, a small figure clad in grey light-blue and cream coloured urban camo, lay prone on the flat concrete roof. The figure was completely unrecognisable, however, even though it was sighting through a rifle scope attached to a Barrett MRAD rifle. The head was covered with a full mask of the same camo as the uniform with only two dark eyes showing.

Next to the figure was a small container filled with liquid nitrogen and ten .338 Norma Magnum cartridges clipped into a magazine. The rifle was clad in the same camo as the figure, and the gun’s bolt action breech was open. All blended in with the ambient light and the surroundings of the roof. “Expect the unexpected and be ready to act, ” was the instruction. The figure waited.

At 09:22, a BMW sedan pulled into the parking area. A single male got out and walked towards the building, tucking something into his trousers waistband at the back, and covering it with his loose-hanging shirt. The figure waited.

At 09:40 a blue-coloured SUV drove in and parked under the shade-cloth parking. Four people got out: three women and one man, and disappeared into the building. Not moving, breathing shallow and rhythmic, the figure waited.

At 10:07 the male from the BMW sedan came out, dragging Roxy by her hair. He then turned, his hand went behind his back, and came out holding a silver-coloured handgun. Roxy somehow got out of his grip and spun lose of the guy, and staggered a few paces away. The target was open. Completely open.

The figure moved. It opened the liquid nitrogen container, reached in with a gloved hand, retrieved the magazine, clipped it into the rifle and worked the bolt, all the while sighting through the scope, crosshairs held steady on the head of the target. The target brought up the handgun and sighted in the typical gangster style fashion, holding the gun horizontally. “Asshole! You can’t fire accurate like that!” The figure thought as it took the first pressure on the trigger.

The report of the gangster’s gun merged with the report from the .338 Norma Magnum; the .338 MRAD just a fraction of a second before the 9-millimetre, but fast enough to hit the target and disrupt his aim with the handgun, throwing him off target.

Julies had no indication or thought of what had struck him, as his vision became a black nothing with the dull hammer blow that struck him. An ice cube, molded like a .338 projectile, entered his skull just under his nose and vaporised inside his head. The expanding water vapour gas blew his skull apart in a red watery mass of blood, brain matter and bone fragments. His body teetered for a moment before toppling backwards, hitting the body of the BMW sedan. As if in slow motion, it slid down to the tar of the parking area.

A red blood smear trailed down the bodywork of the car as the body fell to the ground, raising dust all around. It was quick, it was clean, made it easy on him. Someone must die, so the good will survive.

On the roof of the Quad Five building, the figure released its held breath and ejected the brass casing from the breech of the .338 MRAD, where it skittered along the roof of the building to the edge and dropped over, out of sight. There was no expression in the dark eyes of the shooter.

“Oh well..., something gained, something lost. Another day, another mission completed, ” The figure whispered to itself in Tajik, the language of the Tajik people of Tajikistan, as it disassembled the rifle and put it in its case.

Then the figure with all its gear disappeared into the shadows, down a fire escape on the side of the building, and dropped onto a white Suzuki 1300 super bike. Moments after stowing the case, the figure and the bike merged with the traffic in Kommetjie Road and took off north, in the direction of Ou Kaapse Weg, the mountain pass to the Constantia valley beyond the mountain.

I got up from my prone position, still clutching the Beretta in my right hand. Slowly, the ringing in my ears subsided. It was suddenly quiet; only the high-pitched sound of a super bike out front in the road, screaming away somewhere.

Mai-Loan comforted a trembling Roxy in her arms, soothing the girl and stroking her head and body.

Something bumped hard into me from behind, and nearly bowled me over. I turned.

“Dusty! Are you okay!” Andrea squealed.

“Yes, I’m fine...” I croaked. Dammit, this was close. Three inches to the left, and it would have hit me in the shoulder. Unconsciously I rubbed my shoulder.

“Dusty, this is getting out of hand now! Will it ever stop?” Andie asked.

Before I could answer, my cell phone rang. Ash.

“Yes Ash?”

“Are you, and the girls okay?”

“How do you know?”

“I was watching it unfold: the shoot-out at the OK Corral, and in high definition.”

“You were watching!?”

“Overhead drone. Mighty fine technology...”

“You knew about this?”

“No, I did not know, but was prepared for any eventuality.”

“Dammit ASH!”

“Answer me! Are you guys okay?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself on your fuck-en drone!”

“Tut, tut, old chap. Calm down. You were never in any danger. Darya’s a fine shot.”

“Where the fuck is she?”

“WAS she, is the question. She was on the roof of the building, but now long gone. Like a ghost in the night.” Chuckle.

“Dammit, Ash. He could have taken Andrea!”

I take it as a ‘yes’. You are all okay.”

“So far, we’re okay. But let me check the others.”

“Good! Report back, and Dusty...”

“What?”

“Don’t mention Darya’s name. She was and is relaxing at the pool with Nadia, Leah and Olivia. Got it?”

“Yeah, but you could have said something.”

“And what would that have accomplished? You could have compromised my sniper.”

“True. But how did you know?”

“As I said: I didn’t know. I expected and organised accordingly.”

Did Mai-Loan know?

“Yes! It’s her squad, the Angels.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“See you soon. Franks will clean up the mess.”

“Where’s Franks?”

“Driving in by the gate to the parking area. Ciao!” And he broke the connection. Dammit, and dammit again. I turned to Andrea and wrapped her up in my arms.

“Come let’s go inside...”

“What ... what about ... him?”

“Luke 9, verse 60: Let the dead bury the dead...”

“DUSTY!”

“Come, Andrea. I don’t want you to see it!” I emphasised and meekly she let me lead her inside.

Once inside in her office, I let Andrea sit in a chair. Mai-Loan had Roxy, a little calmer now, do the same.

“I’ll go see if someone can make them some tea. You want some as well?” Mai-Loan asked, and it was evident that she was calm and relaxed, as if this was an everyday occurrence for her.

“Scotch would be fine, but make it coffee for me,” I replied and dropped into a chair.

“Be back just now...” she replied and left the office. Outside I heard her say to someone, “They’re in the office. You can go in.”

Joe Franks walked through the office door, looked around and fixed his eyes on me.

“Dusty, outside,” he commanded, and turned and walked out again. I got up and followed him outside to the parking area.

“So, what happened?” Joe asked.

“I discharged Julies, and he went into a rage. Stormed out, and I thought it was over. Mai-Loan and I went outside to the car and as we came through the door, Julies had Roxy by the hair pulling her over to that grey BMW over there,” I indicated at the car with my right index finger.

Joe nodded his head. Listening.

“Go on, what happened then?”

“Well, as we just got out the door, Julies pulled a gun, shouting something and fired at us.”

“Okay...”

“It all happened so fast. All I know is that I pushed Mai-Loan down and hit the deck myself. Then, when I looked up Julies had let go of Roxy and he was falling back against the car.”

“Hmm ... Did Mai-Loan shoot him?”

“Dammit, Joe, I don’t even know if Mai-Loan had a gun with her.”

“Hmm ... I hear what you say, but someone shot him with a high-powered gun.”

“Well, the autopsy might shed some light on it,” I offered my analysis.

“There’s nothing left to do an autopsy any good. His head is missing.”

“Someone cut it off!?”

“No, it was vaporised. It’s scattered all over the parking area and the car.”

“Dammit!”

“We can’t even tell if the bullet struck him from the front, side or back.”

“Dammit!”

“Stop saying ‘dammit,’ and say something useful.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know ... Something like there was someone inside the car or at the gate? Anything?”

“Why? I did not see anyone.”

“A rival gang hit, maybe?”

“Joe, it could be, but I saw no-one. It was just him, Roxy, Mai-Loan and me in the parking area. Sorry.”

“Yeah ... Seems like this case will be one of those cold cases, sitting in a filing cabinet for posterity...” Sigh.

“But surely there must be a cartridge case somewhere ... the bullet...”

“If it was a revolver, the cartridge casing is still in the firearm. A dead end there. We searched the yard here. No bullet or leftovers. It’s like he was struck by lightning.”

“Dam...”

“Yeah, say it.”

“Dammit!”

“Unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Unless it has something to do with Mister Windsor and his bunch of Angels.”

“Nah, Mai-Loan was with me. Roxy was being abducted, and the rest are still at either Wolvenkopft or Newlands.

“It’s as you say. The Angels were relaxing at the pool at Newlands. I sent a car there and yes, they were sunbathing. Only...”

“Only what?”

“Darya was not there...” And Joe looked at me, one eyebrow raised and his eyes searching my face for some tell-tale indication of something.

“Darya was not there?”

“My team was chatting to them for about five or ten minutes, when Darya came out the side door to the pool, dressed in a bathing suit and carrying a tray of cool drinks.” Joe said and watched my face.

“Well as I said, they were relaxing at the pool.”

“Only ... Darya’s hair was dry...”

“Joe, what are implying?”

“Nothing. I only meant that she had not been in the pool at all.”

“Well, the girls are enjoying the African sun. It does not mean that to be at a pool, you have to swim.”

“True dat!”

“So what now?”

“Dead end,” Joe chuckled. “Okay let’s go speak to Mai-Loan and Roxy.” As he turned to walk back, he casually noted, “There was a white coloured super bike, a Suzuki 1300 something, parked at the side of the house. The engine was still hot, as if it just got there...”

“And? What does that signify? Ash has many toys...”

“I’m just mentioning it ... According to the plates, it belongs to a Ronald Peter Van Jaarsveldt. You don’t know him, I take it?”

“Never heard of him.”

“Hmm ... Could be, could be not. Captain Ronald Peter Van Jaarsveldt was a helicopter pilot in the SAPS, a year or so ago. I believe he flies cargo for the Angels, and their Angels Express Logistics air freight thing.”

“I don’t know him. I’ve never met him.”

“Hmm ... You know, he has a thing going with Darya?”

“Good for him. Darya is a nice girl.”

“Darya is also a deadly girl with a rifle, and ... a highly skilled and trained sniper.”

“Meaning?”

“She could have taken out Julies, hopped on a bike and been at Newlands before my men got there...”

“Now don’t you go and jump to any conclusions without proof! Where’s the cartridge casing and the bullet?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions. I’m just saying ... If, and I say if, it was Darya, I can’t prove anything. But good for her. She took out a cockroach. Did me a favour!” he chuckled.

As we got to the stairs to Andrea’s office, Joe observed with grin on his face: “You know, Darya’s boyfriend, Ronny, is also a Springbok Shot. Both rifle and pistol ... Makes one think, doesn’t it?”

I thought back to last night. The girl on the Suzuki. The one that had the strange accent and dark eyes that I found to be familiar. Could it have been ... Darya?

In Andrea’s office Joe and I found that in the meantime, some of the staff had joined Andrea. Mai-Loan had worked her soothing charm on Roxy, and she looked a little more composed.

Floyd Schoeman and Bruce Du Toit were also in attendance. I did not say anything or let my attitude show that I was in any way apprehensive of their presence.

“Do we know what happened?” Floyd asked.

“We are no nearer to a solution than you are ... Mister ... eh?” I addressed Schoeman.

“Schoeman, Floyd Schoeman. You can call me Floyd.” He said and stepped forward, reaching out his hand. I took it and shook it.

“Arno De Lange, and this is Brigadier Joe Franks, SAPS,” I introduced Joe.

“Aren’t you ... supposed to be...”

“Killed in a gas blast,” I chuckled. “Yes, but as you can see, I did survive it.”

“How?”

“Long story. But let’s leave it for now.”

It was obvious that Du Toit was also taken aback by the news.

“From what we have ascertained, the deceased tried to abduct Miss Roxy here, but was thwarted by an unknown assailant. It could most likely be a hit from a rival in the kind of business he was in...” Joe said and let his words hang in the air.

“And what business would that be?” Du Toit spoke for the first time.

“The business of belonging to the Funky Boys Gang; well known on the Cape Flats. Athlone, Phillippi, Steenberg and Grassy Park.” Joe said.

Du Toit sort of cringed back. So, he was aware of the doings of Aldermann, and Aldermann’s acquaintances.

“Miss Roxy, I would like a statement from you, of what happened. How Julies got you and where you were then.”

“O ... Okay...” she replied in almost a whisper.

“Take your time, Miss Roxy. You can come by my office tomorrow, if you would. It will give you time to settle a bit. And the same for you, Miss Rahal.” Joe said, addressing Mai-Loan by the name that she was known by at Quad Five.

Mai-Loan only nodded her head, playing the perfect submissive Muslim girl she was now portraying. If Du Toit and Schoeman only knew her real identity.

“Thank you,” Roxy said, a little more composed.

“Then I’ll be going. If there’s anything else, I will contact you nice people.” Joe said and turned to leave.

“Thank you, Brigadier,” Andrea spoke up. “Whenever you’re in the area, and I am in the office, please drop by...”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Louw. I don’t mind if I do,” Joe replied with a grin and left.

I looked at my wristwatch. It was 12:15. Funny, Plaatjies did not show up for his appointment. I said so to all in the room and watched reactions. Du Toit turned and looked out the window, trying not to let us see his face, as if he did not want us to see his expression.

I made as if I did not see it but took note of his expression and his attitude. Did he warn Plaatjies not to come?

I looked at the girls and said: “Miss, Louw, Roxy, Amirah, it’s past twelve, would you ladies care to join me for lunch?”

“Are you buying? Then I’m in,” Roxy replied.

“Yes, and we’ll go to a place that will take care of Miss Rahal’s needs. Something Halal.”

“Oh, don’t go out of your way to accommodate me. We can go anywhere, and I’ll just have a salad,” Mai-Loan replied.

“But we want you to feel welcome in the company, Amirah. So, you can suggest some place good.” and added for Du Toit’s benefit, “Besides, if we leave now, maybe Miss Louw’s laptop will find its own way back here after those that have it discover it’s useless to them.”

The girls all looked at me, grasping the meaning of my words and at whom it was directed. Nobody commented.

“All in favour? Then let’s go,” I said and turned to leave the office.

“What about me? When are you going to interview me?” Du Toit spoke up.

“It all depends on what you are going to tell me about the goings-on around here, Mister Du Toit,” Andrea responded. “So, take the rest of the day and go and think about what you are going to do and say. Then let’s reconvene at say, ten tomorrow, here ... in my office?” And she tossed him her best ‘come-over-to-my-side’ smile. If it had an effect on Du Toit, we’ll have to see.