Does it Hurt to Die (30 page)

Christian had woken several times during the night, firstly hearing noises and then imagining that Isabella was lying next to him, conflicted by the awful thought that she was now his sister and he could no longer think of her in that way. When he finally heard the birds chirping, he decided to get up and try to find the Rwandan coffee that Ruby usually made. As he made his way down the stairs, he walked past the library and saw that Ruby was already at work with two of her friends cleaning up the mess from the day before. He poked his head in through the door to say hello, but before he could greet her Ruby looked up, smiled and walked over and hugged him.

‘
I’m so glad to see that you’re OK, Master Christian,’ said Ruby as she held on to him tightly.

Christian was a little embarrassed and unsure how to best respond, but managed
, ‘Thank you, Ruby. Where will I find that lovely coffee of yours?’

‘
That’s in a secret place. We can’t have just anyone making coffee; don’t you know that it’s Ruby’s touch that makes it taste so good?’ she said, releasing him from her embrace. ‘You just go and sit out on the stoep; it’ll be ready in five minutes.’

Christian sat at the long table and saw the security guard that Mike had hired now positioned in the driveway. The sounds of the coffee being made and its smell distracted Christian from the thoughts of the previous day. Then, as he began to consider all that had happened, and how so many people had been affected, he wondered whether he should return to Australia. It seemed to him that he had learnt enough about his father and caused enough anguish. He thought he would Skype his mother and see whether he could get his ticket changed.

‘Hi, Christian. Why so glum? In Africa, you get used to occasionally having your privacy invaded and life turned upside down, but Ruby and her friends will have everything back to normal shortly. Everyone, it seems, is OK and so we’ll just get on with life.’

‘
I think I’m going to go back to Australia, Mike.’

‘
I wouldn’t blame you, but you still won’t have the answers that you’ll need at some stage to allow you to get on with your life.’

‘
Well, not only was there the break-in yesterday, with your house being trashed, but I found out that Isabella is my half-sister, all of which is related to my trying to find out more about my father.’

‘
I understand how you feel,’ said Mike, strangely unfazed by Christian’s revelations, ‘but before you make your final decision, let me tell you that I had an early phone call this morning from Isabella. She wants to support you and now feels it’s even more important to find out about your father, as it’s also her father. I suggested to her that she come over for breakfast this morning and we talk about all that’s been going on and look at the folder.’

Christian wondered whether he should object and stick to his original plan to return to Australia when he heard the sound of Nadine’s car entering the driveway. He looked down from the stoep as Isabella opened the door and stepped out. She was wearing jeans and a rugby top, her hair in a ponytail, dressed in a much more businesslike manner than he could remember. Nothing seemed to accentuate her femininity; she had made the transition to sister already. Isabella looked up at him smiled and waved before taking the stairs two at a time, placing her hands on his shoulder and kissing him on the cheek.

‘Good morning, brother,’ she said, before sitting next to him.

Christian was uncertain whether he was ready to be her brother; part of him recognised the reality but part of him still existed in the dream that had been yesterday.

‘Christian, this is our journey now. It’s an unpleasant fact. You’re my half-brother, and we need more than ever to find out what happened to our father.’

Christian looked at her as she gazed directly into his eyes holding his stare, confirming that she had made the transition from girlfriend to family member.

‘I’m not sure that I can make the transition as quickly and as successfully as you have.’

‘
Nonsense! You just need to apply your mind to it; there’s nothing to stop us being great friends. Let’s go to Johannesburg as brother and sister and try to find out what happened to our father. Sibokwe has organised for us to see the head of the National Intelligence Service to view some of the old apartheid government secret files, which might tell us how much our father was involved in BOSS and give us a clue as to the genetic research he was doing.’

Christian considered the situation. She now had a real reason, as good as his, to find out a little bit more about their father. Mike was right; if he left now, there might be many questions that he wished he had sought answers to.

Isabella was waiting for his reply. ‘Alright then,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to Johannesburg and see what we can find.’

‘
Why don’t we first have a look at the folder because that may help you with the questions you have for the head of the National Intelligence Service,’ said Mike as he got up and headed in the direction of the garage.

He returned holding the folder that Christian had found in the Wynberg Garden. Mike put the folder with the plastic wrap in front of Christian.

‘Let’s take you inside, away from prying eyes,’ said Mike, looking in the direction of the security guard. ‘Although I guess the people who wanted it last night are the only ones we need to be concerned about.’

Christian followed Mike and Isabella into the main house. As they entered the living room and Christian headed towards the big table, he heard Mike lock the door behind them. Christian took a pair of scissors from the sideboard and slit open the plastic cover, revealing the brown manila folder, which looked remarkably well preserved. He blew off the dust before picking the folder up and opening the first page. At the top of the page was written
‘CLASSIFIED—Presidents committee only.’ Underneath in bold print was ‘SUMMARY’ with chapter headings.

1.              ARMSCOR

2.
              Enriched Uranium/suppliers

3.
              Jericho Missiles

4.
              Nuclear Fusion/Fission development programme

5.
              Red Mercury

6.
              International Arms Agreement

7.
              Covert treaties

8.
              Chemical/biological and germ warfare programmes

9.
              Genetic Research

10.
              SAA Helderberg

Mike, who had been looking over Christian’s shoulder, took a step back, before he spoke. ‘Well, there’s obviously material in here that would embarrass foreign governments today and which is still relevant. Some would kill to have access to that information so that it could be sold to the highest bidder.’

Christian wondered if Isabella, too, had been shocked by what she had seen, and the implications that had for their father.

‘Mike,’ said Christian, ‘do you know what ARMSCOR stands for?’

‘
Armaments Corporation of South Africa—the government created an arms industry in South Africa, when some of the major suppliers of arms such as Britain, France and the United States refused to continue dealing with a racist government.’

‘
How do you know all that stuff, Mike?’

‘
I’ve always been anti-apartheid and am now used as a consultant by some departments.’

‘
Which departments, Mike?’ said Christian, curious that Mike seemed to have another string to his bow.

‘
Christian, look at this,’ said Isabella, distracting Christian before Mike could answer, showing him a loose page from the section on genetic research.

‘
That looks like my father’s, sorry our father’s, handwriting.’

‘
What are all the numbers with associated letters? It’s like some kind of hieroglyphic,’ she said.

‘
That is strange, it is obviously his handwriting, but why would he put it in here in this folder?’

‘
Perhaps he didn’t want anyone to have access to the genetic research once he realised that they could misuse it. He may have encoded it and this is the key to the code, or part of the key to the code,’ said Mike.

‘
There’s a photo back home in Australia that I can remember has numbers and figures like this on it. I often tried to work out what they were. They could be the missing key to his work?’

Christian looked again at the page that Isabella had found, but he could remember no similarities with what his father had drawn on the back of the photo in Australia. He was about to suggest that his mother could have a look at the photo when he heard a muffled cry. He looked at Mike and Isabella, but they had not apparently heard anything. Thinking he was imagining things again, he took the page from Isabella to examine it more closely. In the printed section, where the loose page had been lying, was his father’s name, and an asterisk which indicated he was not to be trusted
. ‘De Villier’s research encoded,’ it read—‘code unknown.’

His father must have buried at least part of the code with the folder, knowing that if they ever found it that he had denied access or severely compromised their ability to understand his research. As Christian scanned down the page to find more information, there was a loud crash and the living room door burst open. Two men with guns drawn entered the room.

‘Get on the floor, face down, hands behind your back.’

Christian looked at Mike, who nodded to both of them. As they lay on the floor they were quickly and expertly tied, hands and feet bound together with gags placed in their mouths. The two gunmen issued no other commands. They gathered up the folder and left through the ruptured door.

Mike was the first to start moving, a sort of wriggling motion as he looked across at Christian. Finally, he turned the wriggling into rocking from side to side, until he rolled up on to his left side and positioned himself closer to the table, which had the scissors still on it. Christian watched closely out of the corner of his eye. Mike kicked the corner leg of the table so hard that it broke knocking the scissors on to the floor, a move he looked like he had practised previously. He then kicked the scissors toward Christian. Christian rolled over twice and partly picked up the scissors in his right hand. Half rolling back the other way, he positioned himself to cut the ties around Isabella’s wrists.

Positioning the point of the scissors was difficult, and he prayed that he did not dig them into Isabella’s wrists. He knew the artery was close to where he was cutting. After several attempts, in which he felt Isabella wince a couple of times, the nylon rope gave way and she was able to free her hands.

She took the scissors from Christian, cut her leg straps and removed the gag and cut his ties before doing the same for Mike.

‘
Thank you, Isabella. Is everyone OK?’ enquired Mike, with a calmness that impressed Christian; it was almost as though he had expected the two gunmen.

‘
Yes, but let’s check on Ruby,’ said Christian. ‘I thought I heard a strange sound before they burst in.’

In the kitchen, they found Ruby unconscious on the floor. She had a cut over her right eyebrow where she had been struck. The wound was bleeding profusely. Mike pulled open the pantry door and reached for the first aid kit. Taking out a compound dressing, he applied it to the wound.

‘Isabella, apply pressure to this while I check her pulse and see whether she’s breathing.’

‘
Mike, she’s opening her eyes,’ said Christian.

‘
OK, that’s a good sign.’

As Ruby stirred, their relief was palpable.

‘One more to check on,’ said Mike as he headed out of the kitchen towards the front gate.

Christian turned towards Isabella
. ‘I guess with the folder gone so, too, are many of the possible answers we wanted about our father.’

‘
I know. If you were superstitious you could end up thinking that maybe we weren’t meant to know.’ Or even worse, thought Christian, that Mike was in some way complicit with the folder disappearing. Then that did not really add up either because he could have arranged for it to disappear while in Hermanus. He hated the way this whole misadventure was turning out. Isabella interrupted his thoughts.

‘
Christian, what’s even worse, whoever now has the folder may discover more about his genetic research even if they just wanted it for all that other secret information.’

‘
Without the code that is on the back of the photograph in Australia, they still won’t be able to work out what’s going on.’

‘
But that loose-leaf, with his handwriting and hieroglyphics, may give them a starting point,’ said Isabella.

‘
You mean this loose-leaf,’ said Christian, watching Mike to try to judge his reaction while pulling the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket; he had quickly stuffed it in there when the two gunmen had burst into the library.