Red Earth (35 page)

People were streaming around them and sirens heralded the imminent arrival of fire, ambulance and police vehicles.

‘Mike, Mike Dunn, right?'

He turned. From the direction of the airport car park a young man jogged to him. He carried a bouquet of flowers and was dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt. ‘Banger?'

‘
Ja
, Nia's, er, friend. Is she here, is she all right? A security guy just told me there was a gas attack inside.'

‘No, she's missing, been taken,' Mike said. ‘We're trying to get a lead on who may have her.'

Banger put his hands over his eyes. ‘I called her mom and dad and they said she'd been to Switzerland and was flying in today. I can't believe it. I'm late. I could have saved her.'

‘We were waiting for her and we couldn't get to her.'

‘What can I do? I'll do anything. I've got a car.'

Jed came to them and Mike quickly introduced Banger. ‘OK,' Jed said, ‘I found out that Chris Mitchell, my superior in the CIA,
is
driving the embassy's black Mercedes van, and he's taking a US military flight from Wonderboom Airport at Pretoria.'

‘That's less than an hour north of here,' Banger said. ‘When did they leave?'

‘Just now,' Mike said. ‘Five minutes ago. Let's go.'

‘Are you driving that Landy of yours?' Banger said.

‘No, a rental, nothing fast.'

‘I've got my Golf GTI. I'll scout ahead on the N1. We'll stay in touch on WhatsApp.'

They quickly exchanged numbers and Jed decided to stay with Mike, reasoning that if they caught up with Chris it would be good to have one man behind the wheel and the other with his hands free. The three men ran to the cars.

‘Be cool if you catch them first, Banger,' Jed said as they jogged. ‘Remember Nia's on board and the guy driving is a senior CIA officer.'

‘If I catch them first I'll stick on them like glue,
bru
.'

Chapter 36

Nia was worried. The policeman and woman, still in gas masks, sat on either side of her. ‘Where are you taking me?'

‘Somewhere safe, like I said,' Chris, the CIA man said. ‘But first, I need some information from you.'

Nia looked out the window. It seemed they were heading north, towards Pretoria. ‘Like what?'

‘Oh, I think you know. I need the account number and the password or code that was on the microchip in the baby.'

Nia shook her head. ‘Not until I see Mike Dunn and have a lawyer or some independent witness present.'

Chris kept his eyes on the road. ‘I was afraid you were going to say that. Let me be a little clearer. If you don't give me that information, you're going to regret it.'

‘You threatening me, Mr Mitchell?'

‘Nope, I'll leave the threats to my colleagues there in the back with you.'

The man and the woman each grabbed one of her wrists and when Nia struggled they pushed her forward so that her knees hit the floor of the van, then twisted her arms painfully behind her. The woman snapped cold metal handcuffs on her.

‘What the fuck?'

‘Shut up.' The woman slapped her face, hard enough to knock her sideways. The man pulled her up by her hair. Nia screamed.

‘You can't do this to me.'

Chris drove on, at a steady speed, not breaking the limit, not looking back or into the rear view mirror. ‘Carry on.'

‘Give us the numbers,' the woman said, then pulled off her mask.

Nia took a good look at her face and saw the scar. ‘Suzanne Fessey!'

‘Clever girl,' Suzanne said. ‘Too clever.' She slapped her again.

‘You murdered so many people.'

Suzanne shrugged, then pulled out her pistol and put the tip of the barrel against Nia's temple. ‘One more won't get me in too much more trouble then, will it?'

Nia felt like she might wet herself, but tried to control her fear. ‘You won't kill me. You need the information I have.'

‘True,' Suzanne said. ‘I can beat it out of you, or we can go somewhere quiet where I can start shooting you. I'll start with your kneecaps first.'

The man took off his gas mask and Nia saw it was Jed Banks's partner, Franklin Washington.

‘No shooting in the car just yet, please,' Chris said from the front. ‘Franklin, help Suzanne convince Miss Carras the old-fashioned way.'

‘Hold her down,' Franklin said to Suzanne.

Suzanne smiled then grabbed Nia's shoulders and pulled her towards her side of the seat. Franklin reached for a pouch on his belt and took out a folding knife. He flicked it open.

‘No!'

‘Oh, yes,' said the man.

Franklin punched her, with his other hand, hard enough to make her vision go blurry.

‘Gag her,' the man said.

Suzanne pushed her pistol harder into Nia's head then took out a handkerchief and stuffed it in her mouth.

Nia was wide-eyed, desperately sucking air in through her nostrils. She shook her head violently from side to side.

Nia looked over her shoulder at Suzanne Fessey. She just grinned and tightened her grip around Nia's torso while digging the gun hard into her skin. Nia kicked and writhed and the man hit her again.

‘Folks,' Chris Mitchell said, looking in the rear view mirror, ‘I hate to break up the party before it begins, but we really should give Nia a chance to say something.'

Franklin paused, the point of the knife's blade was resting just below her right eye. Suzanne pulled the handkerchief from her mouth.

Nia gasped for air, drawing in a deep breath, then the numbers of the account tumbled from her. Chris held up a hand for her to stop, then took an iPhone out of his pocket and, in between keeping an eye on the traffic, selected the voice recording application. ‘Once more for the microphone, please.'

Nia repeated the number.

‘And the passcode or word?'

‘It was numbers,' Nia said, ‘but they spelled the word “tattoo”, like when you assign letters to numbers on a phone keypad. Mike's ex-wife saw the tattoo on your arm and remembered the date of birth of your baby.'

Chris glanced back at Suzanne. ‘What do you think?'

Suzanne nodded to him. ‘That sounds like Omar. He liked the baby far more than I did.'

‘What did you do with the money?' Chris asked.

‘Nothing,' Nia said, ‘it's still in the account. It's all yours. Please let me go. I won't say anything, I promise. I don't want the money.'

Chris looked in the mirror again. ‘Fuck her.' Chris's phone rang. ‘Gag her, Suzanne.'

Suzanne stuffed the handkerchief in her mouth again and Nia watched in horror, still kicking as much as she could, as the man closed the gap between him and her. She felt him touching her and tried to scream again.

‘Jed,' Chris said into his phone. ‘Oh, I'm just out for a little morning drive, then flying out of here … No, I can't tell you where … No, I'm not going to do that and you are to stand down, and that's a direct order, mister.'

Nia tried to scream louder so that Jed might hear her, but Suzanne clamped a hand over her mouth.

Chris ended the call and then Nia could feel the point of Franklin's knife, pushing against her.

‘One moment, please,' Chris said.

Franklin backed off and Suzanne removed the gag again.

‘Anything else you might have neglected to tell us, Nia? I suspect there's more. By the time my friend here is finished with you, you might wish you'd been more forthcoming, if there's more to your story. We'll keep you alive, by the way, until we've confirmed that the money is still in the account. If it isn't we'll progress from taking an eye or two to something even more painful until you tell us where it is. OK?'

Nia stilled herself. ‘I moved the money into a new account.'

Chris held up his phone and pressed record again. ‘That's more like it. Number and password, please.'

Nia gave him the numbers. She had never intended to keep the money for herself in any case.

‘Good, thank you,' said Chris.

Chris came to a red light on the upward slope of a hill and stopped and applied the handbrake. Nia looked out the window, tears welling in her eyes. Soon she would be dead.

Suzanne looked to Franklin then moved the barrel of her pistol from Nia's head. She aimed it at the back of the driver's seat and pulled the trigger, twice. Chris Mitchell's body jerked against his seatbelt.

Nia screamed.

Franklin opened the sliding door, jumped out, shifted Chris to the passenger seat and climbed in behind the wheel. He released the handbrake and accelerated just as the light turned green.

Chapter 37

Mike's phone rang and he hit the phone icon on the satellite navigation system screen in his Land Rover. Banger's voice came through on speaker via bluetooth.

‘Mike, I'm at Wonderboom. I'm in the car park and there's no sign of the van.'

‘Shit,' Mike said. He was lagging behind Banger, as was to be expected. ‘They should have easily been there by now.'

‘We could try the South African police,' Jed said, ‘but without some high-level diplomatic intervention they'd be unwilling to stop a vehicle with diplomatic registration plates. I don't know how else we can track them.'

‘Track?' said Banger. ‘Dudes, welcome to my world. Jed, all new vehicles in South Africa over a certain value have to have satellite tracking devices fitted to them in order to qualify for insurance policies. There's no way your embassy van wouldn't have a tracker on it. Can you call the embassy and find out what company you guys use?'

‘Sure thing,' said Jed.

Mike continued on the N1 while Jed made a call on his phone. When he hung up he used the screen on Mike's sat nav to call Banger.

‘Howzit, Mike?'

‘Banger, it's Jed here. The US embassy uses a company called Motor Track.'

‘Yes! That's my company. I know some of the guys in Joburg. Jed, I need you to call Motor Track and report that van stolen. Leave the rest to me.' Banger gave them the emergency number then hung up.

Jed dialled the number and made up a story about the vehicle being stolen from the car park of Wonderboom Airport. Mike was about to turn off to the airport when the phone rang again.

‘Banger here, guys. OK, a
bru
of mine in Joburg has a fix on your van. They've scrambled a chopper and the good news is the pilot owes me a favour. Their control room says your van is heading southwest on the N14. I think they're heading for Lanseria.'

‘That's Johannesburg's second airport,' Mike said for Jed's benefit. ‘They could have an international charter booked from there.'

Jed nodded. ‘Banger, can you catch them?'

‘Man, I'm doing one-eighty now. I'll catch them all right, now I know where I'm headed. You guys will be like a day behind me. The Motor Track guys use Bell Jet Rangers up here because the elevation's so much higher than Durban. They need bigger choppers than those little R44s that Nia flies to cut it in this thin air on the highveld. Andrew Barton's the pilot, and he's got room for you two in the back. I'll SMS you his contact details and you
okes
can tee up where to meet him.'

‘Roger that,' said Jed. ‘And thanks.'

*

Nia sat at one end of the bench seat in the back of the van, furthest from the door, and Suzanne sat at the other, covering her with her pistol.

Nia shuddered at the thought of what might have happened to her, but was even more afraid of what the couple planned next.

‘We're taking you to a storage unit,' Suzanne said. ‘I'm not going to kill you. We're going to tie you up and leave you there, no food or water I'm afraid, but if we get to Switzerland, use your new account number and passcode and find the money, then we'll make a call to the storage people and they'll come and get you. OK?'

Nia sniffed and gave a small nod. She wanted so much to believe that it might be the truth, that she might yet live.

‘However, if the account number or passcode are wrong we'll make our way back here. It will take a little while, but you'll still be alive, starving and dehydrated, and Franklin will torture you until you give us the correct information. Worst case scenario, we can't come back to South Africa because the security's too hot so you will die of starvation and we'll still disappear.'

From the N14 they eventually turned onto the R512 which led to Lanseria Airport. The countryside here was still semi-rural and the traffic light. At a certain point, Franklin pulled over. He exited the vehicle, went around to the passenger side, and pulled out Chris Mitchell's body. Nia watched as he dragged the senior CIA man to a ditch then got back in.

‘This is all about money, isn't it?' Nia asked.

Suzanne rocked her head from side to side. ‘Yes and no. I spent enough time in Syria to know that I didn't want to live in an Islamic state any more, and Franklin spent enough time outside of America, doing his country's dirty work, to know he didn't want to call the Great Satan home. Neither of us wants the jihadis to get hold of a nuke. Of course, we also need some retirement money.'

The van was in the left lane and Nia saw a small car draw alongside them, on the right, keep pace with them for a second, then accelerate away. As it moved ahead of them she saw the distinctive Motor Track ‘Eye in the sky' slogan on its rear. She caught a glimpse of the number plate: BANGBANG-ZN.

Nia bit her lower lip and her heart started to pound. Banger had bought an ex Motor Track Golf and hadn't yet got around to having the logos removed. Bighead that he was, he had found time to get some personalised number plates made.

She thought fast. She needed to distract Suzanne and Franklin. ‘What about your baby, Hassan? Don't you care about him?'

Suzanne glared at her. ‘It's none of your business.'

‘Come on, you're his mom.'

‘Shut up,' Suzanne said.

‘I can't believe you're such a heartless bitch, Suzanne.'

Suzanne pointed her pistol between Nia's eyes. ‘He's somewhere safe. That's good enough for me!'

‘You're worse than an animal, Suzanne. At least a hyena or a vulture cares for her young.'

Franklin, who had been concentrating on driving, turned back to her. ‘Shut the fuck up, bitch, or you're dead.'

‘No, you are,' said Nia.

He looked back at her again. ‘What the hell are you talking about?'

*

‘He's distracted.' Banger's voice came through their headsets from the hands-free microphone in his car. ‘Looking back. Time to giddy-up, amigos.'

‘Don't mix your Western vernacular,' Jed said.

Banger laughed.

Mike had his pistol drawn and ready, as did Jed. Andrew Barton, the Motor Track helicopter pilot, had held position behind and above the Mercedes van while Banger overtook the vehicle and moved into position. Banger was now in front of the van.

‘Slowing now,' Banger said, his voice calm and serious again.

‘No other vehicles in sight,' said Mike. ‘You sure you want to do it this way?'

‘Affirmative,' said Banger.

Mike took a deep breath. They had discussed the options and Banger had argued that if the helicopter made itself known to the fleeing terrorists then they might kill Nia. For the same reason they had avoided contacting the South African police. Seeing an impromptu roadblock would also force their hand. They had to do this hard and fast.

‘All clear?' Banger said.

Mike and Jed checked left and right out of the Jet Ranger and gave each other the thumbs-up. ‘All clear, Banger,' Mike said. ‘No traffic for a kilometre behind us.'

‘Mike,' Banger said.

‘Yes?'

‘Do me a favour,
bru
, two in fact.'

‘Sure.'

‘Tell Nia I love her, even though I did fuck things up.'

‘Don't be morbid. You've got an airbag and there's no one in front of you,' Mike said.

‘I'm serious, dude.'

‘OK,' Mike said, ‘will do. What's the other favour?'

‘Take care of her, man.'

‘Cars coming up behind us,' Jed said. ‘Now or never.'

‘Remember, Nia's on the left side.
Adios
, amigos,' Banger said.

Mike watched as Banger bled off speed by lifting his foot off the accelerator. On this stretch of the R512 the road had narrowed to a single lane. When there was just fifty metres between the Golf and the Mercedes van behind it, the driver of the van switched on his right indicator, to overtake.

The Golf's tail-lights glowed bright red as Banger stood on the brakes and pulled on the handbrake and the van ploughed into him.

Banger held firm as his tyres blew out and sparks flew from the rims of his wheels. Andrew brought the Jet Ranger around to the left, trailing the vehicles which, locked together, skidded down the road. As they came to a halt Andrew dropped to a hover, a metre off the ground.

Jed and Mike already had the doors open and they jumped out. Jed went around the rear of the van, pistol up and ready, and headed towards the driver's door. Mike went to the left-hand side, where Banger had reported seeing Nia. The window on that side of the van shattered as two shots came his way. Mike dropped to the ground.

Mike moved backwards, to the rear of the van, hoping to get a clean shot from the rear.

‘Mike, she's got a grenade!' Nia called, her words followed by a cry of pain.

A woman's hand reached out of the broken window and tossed out a hand grenade, which hit the ground with a metallic thud a couple of metres from the van. Mike moved behind the vehicle and ran. The explosion rocked the van and smoke washed over them.

Mike glanced around the right side of the Mercedes and saw that Jed had his gun up, pointing at the driver.

‘Franklin, toss your gun out,' Jed called.

Franklin opened the door and staggered out from behind the inflated airbag. He carried a pistol in his right hand. Mike took aim at his broad back. He couldn't fire, though, in case he hit Jed, who was just beyond Franklin.

‘Drop it, buddy,' Jed said. ‘Let's talk.'

‘OK.' Franklin held his gun arm out to the right, and just as it looked like he was going to drop it he turned his pistol on Jed and fired.

Jed returned fire, two shots, and Franklin's body jerked, but he didn't go down. Jed, on the other hand, dropped to one knee.

Mike didn't know if Franklin was wearing body armour, or if one or both of Jed's shots had been deflected by some of the police gear that Franklin still had on. Mike acted instinctively and fired a shot into the back of Franklin's head. He pitched forward, dead.

‘I'll kill her,' Suzanne called from inside the van. ‘Both of you back off, put your guns down. I'm coming out.'

Suzanne was holding Nia close to her, one arm around her neck and the pistol in her right hand held up under Nia's jaw. She eased Nia out first, and when her feet were on the ground Suzanne looked around her.

Mike had his pistol aimed at Suzanne. Jed was sitting, his gun also up, though his aim was wavering. He'd been hit somewhere in the chest or shoulder.

*

Banger used his Leatherman to puncture the airbag in his Golf. He crawled over the centre console of the little car to the passenger door, opened it, and slid out. He made his way on knees and elbows along the side of his car and halfway down the length of the Mercedes van.

He'd heard the grenade go off, and the firing. He pulled his Glock from the pancake holster on his belt and crawled under the chassis. He could see feet – Suzanne's and Nia's – and Jed Banks was sitting on the road, wounded, but holding up a gun. He also saw the body of a black man lying by the driver's side, no more than a metre from his face. Banger edged forward.

‘Dunn, you're going to flag down the next car that passes,' Suzanne said.

Banger craned his neck and saw Mike Dunn's battered bush shoes at the rear of the van. He inched even further forward, thinking that if he could get close enough to Suzanne, he could maybe take a killer shot. The angle was difficult, though, and he had to be sure that if he shot her the bullet wouldn't go through her into Nia.

He looked right and then left again. Then Jed moved his head, just a fraction, and they locked eyes for a moment.

Jed spoke up. ‘Suzanne, this is over for you. You're not going to get out of South Africa alive and get on a plane to Switzerland.'

‘Shut up, and drop your gun.'

‘Take me, Suzanne,' Mike Dunn said from the right. ‘I've got the account number and the code.'

‘I've already got that. It took surprisingly little effort,' Suzanne said. ‘And in case you didn't know, your friend here moved the money into a new account and I've got that number as well. Toss your gun away, now, Dunn, to me, or I'll start shooting her, someplace where it will hurt, but which will still allow her to move.'

Suzanne took a step backwards, so that she was half leaning into the van's open doorway, as Dunn tossed his pistol to her.
Damn
, Banger, thought. Suzanne's move made it almost impossible for him to fire up at her.

From above he heard the chop of rotor blades. Andrew was coming back in the Jet Ranger. Angus heard the whine of the jet engine getting louder as the helicopter approached. Suzanne shuffled a pace to the side.

Banger looked over to Jed, who gave him the slightest of nods, then started to stand.

‘Get down,' Suzanne yelled over the noise of the helicopter. Dust and dirt blasted them from the rotor wash.

Jed half stood, then, seeming to think better of it, dived to one side. Banger rolled out from under the van, the sound of his scrambling on the road covered by the helicopter's noise. He reached up and grabbed a startled Nia by the belt on her jeans.

Suzanne Fessey had moved her pistol from Nia's chin so that she could fire two shots at Jed. Banger hauled on Nia's belt and wrenched her from Suzanne's grasp.

‘Run!' Banger yelled.

Lying on his back, Banger fired up at Suzanne, two shots. One went into her body armour, but the other seemed to go under her vest and up into her body. She pitched backwards into the van.

Banger was fit, strong, and fast. As he sprang to his feet, bringing his gun up at the same time, he saw Mike Dunn catching Nia and ushering her deeper into the dust cloud.

Suzanne Fessey was not as badly hurt as Banger hoped. From outside the van he saw her bring her pistol up and aim it at Nia's back. Banger did the only thing he could do – he dodged to the right, putting himself between Suzanne and Nia.