Vendetta, page 19
Chapter 17
Adam and Sannie arrived at Dune Lodge mid-morning. Adam had showered and shaved and changed into his smartest casual clothes before leaving Kuruman. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, chinos and Veldskoen shoes.
He thought Sannie looked beautiful in a khaki sleeveless safari dress and tan sandals.
‘Welcome, Sannie,’ Shirley said, introducing herself as the lodge manager. ‘Mia’s out on a game drive with one of the guests but will be back just now.’
Adam shook hands with Shirley. ‘You’re Luiz’s niece?’
She nodded. ‘I am.’
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Adam said. ‘Your uncle was a great man.’
Shirley looked down. ‘Thank you. I’ll show you to your suites now, if you like. They were empty last night so we’ve arranged an early check-in for you. Oh, and Sannie?’ Shirley added.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m terribly sorry that Mia is unable to take some leave days to spend time with you.’
‘No problem,’ Sannie said. ‘We can catch up in between drives and in the evenings, I’m sure.’
As Shirley led them through the lodge’s main reception and dining area towards the accommodation units, a man with curly dark hair flecked with grey walked in. He stopped and stared at Adam. He smiled at Shirley, who nodded in reply.
‘Evan?’ Adam said, after a moment.
‘Adam. Sheesh, how long has it been, man?’
They clasped hands. Evan hugged him, but Adam did not return the embrace.
‘It’s been too long, bru.’ Evan stepped back.
Adam nodded, the memories swirling in his mind. While he knew Evan had visited Frank, the three of them had not been together since 1987. Adam studied Evan. They had all aged, but he still looked much the same, though he had put on weight. His casual clothes looked expensive and new, in contrast to Adam’s pressed but fraying collar and hems.
‘Adam, you’re looking good, my boet. Do you like, work out every day?’
He smiled. ‘I walk a lot, and run, and my job keeps me in the water a lot.’
‘What are you now, an Olympic swimmer? Champion surfer dude?’
‘I’m researching sharks and I work in . . . security, part-time. It keeps me fit.’
‘Tony googled you,’ Evan said, ‘and told me you foiled a cash-in-transit heist. Shot a guy?’
Adam shrugged. He was grateful that Evan had glossed over mentioning that Adam’s version of ‘working in security’ was being a car park guard. ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.’
Evan held up his hands. ‘Not me. I had enough of AKs back in the day.’ He turned to Sannie. ‘Pardon me; I’m Evan Litis.’
Sannie took his hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Sannie van Rensburg. I’m a friend of Mia Greenaway’s and I happen to live near Adam, so we travelled together.’
‘Well, any friend of Adam’s . . . Lovely to meet you.’
Sannie smiled at him and Adam realised, again, how that simple gesture changed her in an instant. He had met her as the rather stern-faced police detective, and in a short time he’d learned that she was carrying a burden of sadness and some guilt over the death of her husband. A simple smile freed her, or perhaps gave him a glimpse of the woman she had been at some point in her life. She smiled when she talked about her children. She had seen and been through so much in the police service and her personal life, but she still had hope.
Adam turned to Evan and they made eye contact. Adam wondered if they were both thinking about the exact same moment in time, not long before they’d lost contact and not seen each other again. Until now.
Angola, 1987
Another mortar bomb exploded nearby, and Adam felt the vibration through the ground and up into his chest. Instinctively, he lowered his head. There was the sound of gunfire coming from the direction where the lieutenant, Rassie and the San trackers had headed with the missing airman.
‘That’s where the others are,’ Frank said, reading the sound and direction. ‘Litis, Rossouw, get up there, see what’s happening, and report back to me.’
Evan left. Adam was picking up on Frank’s anger and confusion about what was happening. He felt jumpy.
Adam saw movement through the bush in front of him. ‘Frank?’ he hissed.
Frank looked to where Adam was pointing, raised his R1 and fired. ‘FAPLA!’
Adam looked down the sights of his machine gun. He saw three soldiers in camouflage and squeezed the trigger. He used his left hand to pull the butt of the gun hard into his shoulder and brace against the recoil. Spent brass casings and metal links clinked into a pile beside him. The man Adam had shot at was still running. Adam took a deep breath, aimed off and squeezed again. The Angolan pitched forward. The smell of cordite and gun oil invaded his nostrils.
It was not elation Adam felt, but nor did he have time to feel pity or excitement. A primeval force surged inside him on a mini wave of adrenaline. It was the same, he thought, as surfing – that feeling when the inescapable energy of the water lifted him, then his guts falling as he slid down the front of the blue wall.
Frank fired again, but it was clear the Angolans were many, and closing on them. He fired twice and an advancing soldier fell.
‘Fall back!’ Frank yelled, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. He wanted them to link up with the others.
Adam realised that they were being surrounded. He saw another target. This guy was wearing Cuban camouflage. Adam fired a long burst, which felled the man, then Adam hauled himself and his gun up and started to run, just as Frank covered him.
Adam covered fifty metres then turned and dropped to the ground, ready to start firing so that Frank, now taking cover behind a tree, could come back past him, then they would repeat the drill. Frank fired again and then his rifle clicked on empty. Adam saw two Cubans emerge from the bush and charge towards Frank, who was busy reaching into a pouch for a fresh magazine.
One of the men was in clear view of Adam, so he pulled the trigger and dropped him. Frank, however, was between Adam and the other man, so Adam couldn’t shoot. Frank was slapping the new magazine into his rifle, but the Cuban was almost on top of him. Frank peered around the tree trunk and the enemy soldier barrelled into him, each as surprised as the other.
Frank brought his rifle up, still uncocked, swung it sideways and smashed the butt into the Cuban’s face. The man lurched backwards and Frank closed on him.
Adam ran towards them, his LMG pressed against his side, ready to fire. However, Frank had grabbed the Cuban in a bear hug, preventing the other man from using his rifle, and was running him backwards. Adam could not get a bead on the Cuban and shoot him without the risk of hitting Frank.
A FAPLA soldier with an RPD machine gun erupted from the trees and opened fire indiscriminately.
Adam swung and fired from the hip. The other gunner stumbled and fell.
Meanwhile, Frank staggered as the Cuban fought back against him, the pair of them locked in a dance to the death. Adam left his weighty machine gun on the ground. He jumped up, and as he ran at the two men he unclipped a hunting knife from a sheath on his webbing and drew it. When he came to them, he rammed the knife up and under the Cuban’s ribs. The man arched his back, letting go of Frank, who fell to the ground and dropped his rifle in the process.
The Cuban was bleeding, but Adam must have missed his vital organs. When Adam lunged again the other man sidestepped him and brought up his AK. Adam stared at the man and the barrel of the weapon pointed at him. He knew he was about to die.
Then the Cuban’s eyes opened wide, as did his mouth, in a gesture of surprise. Blood welled over his lips and he fell to the ground. Frank was standing behind the Cuban, his own bloodied combat knife gripped in his hand.
‘Thanks, bru,’ Frank said. ‘You saved my life.’
‘But . . .’ Adam tried to find the words as he looked at his bloodied hand.
‘Forget it. Let’s get moving.’ Frank was businesslike as he finished cocking his rifle. There was a wild yet controlled look in his eyes.
‘I . . . I almost died,’ Adam said.
‘Ja, but you didn’t. Come on. Get your LMG and let’s get to the others. We’ve got to get back to the border,’ Frank said, and they moved off as quickly and cautiously as they could. ‘There’s no way the air force will send a chopper into this shit.’
There was no more gunfire from where the others were. Adam thought that could be a good thing, or a very bad omen. Adam smelled smoke. He could hear voices ahead, but was not close enough to tell what language they were speaking.
Frank nodded, indicating he’d also heard them. They slowed down. Frank raised his R1 to his shoulder and aimed forward, indicating to Adam that he would move ahead while Adam covered him.
Adam advanced to a stout tree, knelt and raised the LMG to cover Frank. The sergeant seemed to be able to move as silently as a leopard, his eyes scanning the bush as he rolled the outer sole of each of his boots slowly on the ground, feeling for anything that might give away his position.
Adam’s face ran with sweat, which stung his eyes as he concentrated. His heart was pounding. He felt like it might burst from the overdose of adrenaline.
Frank moved through a thick stand of bush; Adam waited a few seconds then got up and ran.
*
‘Adam?’ Evan said.
Sannie looked from one man to the other. It had only been a matter of seconds since they had reunited, but Adam had just stood there staring at Evan, or maybe through him, and seemed to have blanked out momentarily. She had seen that look before in the short time since they had met.
‘I said, this sure is a different setting from where we last saw each other, in Angola, hey?’ Evan said.
Adam nodded. ‘Um, yes, for sure.’
‘Tony’s out on a game drive, with Mia – Frank’s daughter. It’ll be lekker to have the old crew back together again, even if it is for a sad occasion.’
‘Yes,’ Adam said, unconvincingly.
Sannie tried to read the situation. Evan was being positive and outgoing, but Adam seemed to be retreating back into his shell. She wondered what they had been through, these men, along with their dead comrades, Luiz and Frank. Sannie was also interested in meeting the DA’s rising star, Tony Ferri.
An attractive woman with red hair walked into the lounge area.
‘Morning, Evan,’ she said. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘Yes, much better, thanks, Lisa. I think it was just a minor bug.’
Evan introduced Lisa Ingram, Ferri’s campaign manager, to Sannie and Adam.
‘You missed the morning game drive, Lisa?’ Sannie asked.
‘Ja, someone has to work, I’m afraid. But don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and Tony’s going to make a fantastic leader, not just for the party, but hopefully for the country one day.’
‘It must be an incredibly stressful job, for both of you,’ Sannie said.
‘It is. What do you do for a living, Sannie?’
‘I’m a police detective.’
‘Oh.’
Sannie smiled. She was used to less-than-enthusiastic responses from people when she told them what she did for a living. People were always happy to see a cop when they had been robbed or assaulted, or were the victim of some other crime, but the rest of the time many were wary, even distrustful, of the police.
‘I can’t thank you enough for everything you do for our community,’ Lisa added. ‘I’m in awe of our police service and it’s one of our priorities to boost numbers and the budget for our law enforcement.’
Well, well, Sannie thought to herself. Perhaps she had misjudged Lisa. However, in her decades as a police officer Sannie had heard every politician from every political party say pretty much the same thing.
‘Actually, I’m thinking of retiring,’ Sannie said.
‘You are?’ Adam sounded surprised.
‘I want to enjoy life a little, now that my kids are all grown and the last one will soon leave the nest.’
Lisa looked from Sannie to Adam. ‘So, are you two a couple?’
‘No,’ they both said in unison.
Evan laughed. ‘I think that was a pretty clear answer.’
‘Yes,’ Sannie said. ‘Adam and I only just met. We’re friends, and I was coming here anyway, and then I learned that Adam wanted to come for Luiz’s funeral, so I offered to give him a lift, or, rather, to share the driving.’
‘And I’m very grateful,’ Adam said.
‘I see,’ Lisa said, drawing out the second word.
Sannie thought Lisa was suddenly looking at Adam through different eyes. In fact, Sannie was sure she was now scanning him from head to toe. Oddly, she felt a little pang of jealousy. There was a predatory air about the other woman.
Shirley, who had been politely standing by while her various guests introduced themselves, seized on a possible lull in the conversation. ‘Perhaps I can show you to your rooms now?’
‘Of course,’ Sannie said.
‘You can all catch up again over lunch,’ Shirley continued, ‘which is soon. Would you like me to set one big table for all you?’
‘You’ll all have plenty to talk about,’ Sannie said, ‘and I’m actually friends with your guide, Mia. I don’t know what the protocol is here at Dune Lodge, Shirley, whether your guide usually eats with you, like in some other lodges, or not?’
‘We do whatever our guests wish.’ Shirley smiled.
‘I really want to talk to Mia, as well,’ Adam said.
‘Do join us, Sannie,’ Lisa said. ‘And we’ll invite Mia, even if she wouldn’t normally dine with guests.’
Sannie had hoped for some time alone with Mia, but accepted that her friend would probably be just as keen to talk to the group of veterans as they were to spend time with her. Sannie was not, by nature, a jealous person, so these newly surfacing emotions troubled her.
‘Fine,’ she said.
‘OK, all settled,’ Shirley said. ‘Sannie, Adam, let me show you to your tents.’
‘That would be lovely,’ Sannie said.
Porters collected their luggage from Sannie’s Fortuner and Shirley led them along a sandy path demarcated by dried tree branches. Hurricane lanterns, converted to electricity, lined the walkway on hooked metal stakes stuck in the sand.
When she saw it, Sannie thought that the only connection her suite had with a ‘tent’ was the use of tan-coloured canvas for some of the wall panels.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Sannie said to Shirley when the lodge manager led Sannie up some wooden stairs to a timber deck and the suite. At first glance, the room seemed totally open to the elements at the front, then Shirley showed her the stackable glass doors, which tucked neatly out of the way so that guests could feel they were in the desert, but under shade. The roof was waterproof material stretched over a series of poles, giving a Bedouin feel.
Inside was a king-sized bed, a lounge area with comfy sofas and a coffee table made out of an old steamer trunk.
‘Fully stocked minibar, indoor bath and shower, and outdoor shower on the side deck,’ Shirley said. ‘All meals and drinks are included, even though Mia is using some of her bed nights for your stay, and whatever you drink from the minibar will be replaced each day.’
‘It’s amazing, thank you, Shirley.’
‘If there is anything else you need, please just use the walkie-talkie. And, in an extreme emergency, please use the air horn beside your bed. If you need to use the horn at night-time, please turn on your stoep light so we know where to come to.’
Even though Shirley was smiling and being brisk and professional, Sannie saw that she was wringing her hands. ‘Shirley, are you OK? I know it must have been very hard, not only losing your uncle, but the way he passed.’
Shirley paused on the deck and looked down at her giveaway hands, which were now still. ‘Thank you for asking. I just keep wondering what I could have done, why I didn’t see the signs, and . . .’ She wiped her eyes.
‘I’m sorry. I know the wound is still raw, but it can help to talk. You wanted to say something else?’
‘It’s terrible, selfish even, but I just want to know why he didn’t ask me for help?’
Sannie nodded. ‘That can be the hardest thing, for friends and relatives – they always ask themselves those questions. The fact is that if someone is deeply depressed enough to want to end their life then they don’t think of the consequences of their actions on others. It’s not your fault, Shirley.’
‘Thank you. I’ve tried to tell myself that, but it helps to hear it from someone else.’
‘My pleasure.’
Shirley thanked her again and left Sannie to settle in.
Sannie flopped down in the cocoon of an egg chair hanging from a frame on her stoep. She looked out over the red dunes of the desert. It was a long way from the Natal South Coast and her former home in Mpumalanga, on the edge of the Kruger National Park. The only common denominators in her life, she realised with a sigh, were crime and death. Even here on holiday.
She went inside again, unpacked her bag and then decided to head back to the main part of the lodge and wait for Mia to return from her game drive. She checked her watch. Judging by the briefing she and Adam had received from Shirley, the morning game drive should have been back already. Lunch was from twelve-thirty, however, which was soon, so Sannie thought that Mia and Tony Ferri would have to be back by then.
Sannie walked down the stairs into the heat of the Kalahari day. The sky was the most perfect azure dome overhead, contrasting starkly with the desert sands on the horizon. Guests were allowed to walk around the lodge during the day, though Shirley had told her this was forbidden at night-time.
As she passed Adam’s room he was also coming down his stairs.
