Trackers (34 page)

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Cc:
[email protected]
;
[email protected]

Sent:
Sat 2009-09-21 11.31

Marked:
Urgent

Operation
Shawwal

Quinn

Please note that the surveillance of the Supreme Committee,
the Restless Ravens, Julius Shabangu and our fishing expedition in Walvis Bay will
henceforth fall under the auspices of 'Operation Shawwal'. It shall enjoy the
utmost focus, and the highest priority. Brief daily reports are essential.
Furthermore:

1. Please ensure that Reinhard Rohn understands the urgency.
He has six operatives at his disposal, but is there a detailed plan? Let him
draw one up, and supply him with everything he needs. We absolutely have to
intercept that arms shipment.

2. I
am not satisfied with our intelligence on the Restless Ravens, and need a plan
of action before the end of Monday 21 September to dramatically improve this.

3.
                 
We cannot afford to lose three days of calls on the Shabangu
wiretap every week, especially in the next two to four weeks. How do we rectify
this?

4.
                 
Please report in full, before Wednesday 23 September, on the
security measures for the Cape Town Stadium, re the Fifa visit on 12 October.

21 September 2009. Monday.

'The American soccer team? Pure speculation, Tau. Where is
your proof?' Janina Mentz asked.

'We can't just do nothing, the risk is too great.'

'So what do you want to do? Talk to the newspapers?'

'We will have to inform the Commissioner of Police, take him
into our confidence.'

'That is as good as going to the tabloids.'

'Ma'am, we can't simply do nothing.'

'What do you want to do, Tau?'

'Arrest the Supreme Committee. Take them out of circulation,
tie them up in court appearances, put them under a spotlight so bright that
this whole affair burns clean.'

'No,' she said.

'Why not?' Masilo asked.

She was annoyed. 'We'll end up looking like fools, Tau.
You're the lawyer, you should know. What do we do when the judge dismisses the
case, because he
will,
you know that very
well. Where does that leave us? With disaffected friends in the Middle East, a
President who will have lost all faith in us, and Muslim extremists going
deeper underground. Is that what you want?'

'I want to prevent the attack, the far greater damage of an
act of terror.'

'In an idiotic way?'

'That's unfair ...'

'If your people had done their work, we wouldn't be in this
position.'

'My people do their best...'

'Their best? Sorry for the bloodbath, Mr President, sorry for
the humiliation and the shame, but we did our best. You might as well merge us,
we are just as useless as National Intelligence.'

'Is that what this is about?'

'May I say something?' said Raj. He had never seen the
phlegmatic Masilo like this. It made him uneasy.

'What are you insinuating, Tau?' Mentz asked.

'I'm not insinuating, I'm asking ...' 'I have an idea ...' said
Rajkumar.

'And what are you asking?'

'I am asking what is most important to us.'

'We can track the ships,' said Rajkumar.

'You're implying that...' Suddenly she looked at Rajkumar.
'What did you say?'

'We can track the fishing vessels of Consolidated. In Walvis
Bay.'

'How?'

'We've done some probing into their systems, their digital
security is pretty ordinary, which is not really surprising, I mean, they catch
fish, after all...'

'Raj ...'

'They use Lloyd's MIU, specifically the Automatic
Identification System Fleet Tracker, or AIS. It's a real-time system, they log
onto the Lloyds website with a password to see where their ships are, at any
given moment. It's satellite based, sort of like GPS tracking for grown-ups,
very sophisticated, very accurate. If we can get in, we can see where their
vessels have been, where they are at any given moment, and, hopefully, plot
where they are going. Of course, we need to get the password. And then we
simply mask our IP, or we use theirs.'

'How do we get the password?'

'We'll have to plant a key logger. But I'm thinking, let's do
more. I mean, with all due respect, we now have six operatives there, but no
guarantees. Let's go the whole hog. Let's get a pipe into their system. Let's
see the whole damn picture.'

Mentz thought for a long time. Eventually she nodded. 'OK.'

Rajkumar glowed.

Just before they walked out, she said to the Advocate, 'I'll
talk to the Minister. About October twelfth.'

25 September 2009. Friday.

Operation Shawwal

Transcription:
Audio surveillance, J. Shabangu, cellphone conversation

Date and Time:
25 September 2009. 12.42

(Unknown):
Mhoroi, Inkunzi, how are you?

JS:
You tell me.

(Unknown):
I have big news, Inkunzi.

JS:
Yes?

(Unknown):
It is not Kruger Park, Inkunzi, it is Musina, and it happens tomorrow, Inkunzi,
maybe tomorrow
night...

JS:
No maybe, I don't want any maybe, I want definite.

(Unknown):
Inkunzi, they will be coming down from Kwekwe tomorrow morning, definitely, in
an old Bedford truck. Colonel van Jaarsveld, a South African, is the smuggler.
My man is the relief driver, he says they have to take the back roads, they
have to keep away from the roadblocks, so it will take all day to get to the
border. They can't be there before five o'clock at the earliest.

JS:
And they are coming through the Musina border? Beit Bridge?

(Unknown):
No, Inkunzi, they are smuggling, they won't go through the border post. My man
says, some illegal crossing, somewhere between Beit Bridge and the Botswana
border, we think Mapungubwe National Park, it is the obvious place.

JS:
You think? You fucking think?

(Unknown):
Please, Inkunzi, this Colonel did not tell my man where. But there are not many
roads for a big truck on your side. Look at the maps.

JS:
You sure it's a Bedford?

(Unknown):
Dead sure, Inkunzi.

26 September 2009. Saturday.

Once everyone had taken their place in the Ops Room, Masilo
said: 'Listen to me very carefully We have only one goal - to intercept the
diamonds. And we have only one chance. The operators in the field are totally
dependent on us. They cannot intercept Julius Shabangu and his troops unless we
tell them exactly where to go. So I want absolute professionalism, absolute
focus. If you get tired, if you lose concentration, come and tell me and we
will bring in a relief. There is a great deal riding on this. A great deal.'

Then they set to work. The audio feed was relayed so they
could listen to Julius Inkunzi's cellphone when he used it, so they could keep in
contact with the seven teams of PIA operators - a team for each possible route
in the Musina area, and an extra team as backup.

They listened to Shabangu directing his people and their
vehicles like a general.

'He has ten vehicles,' said an audio surveillance operator.

'He wants the diamonds real bad,' said Rajkumar.

At twelve-thirty p.m., after a one-sided telephone
conversation, Quinn reported: 'There is no South African who goes by the rank
and surname of a Colonel van Jaarsveld who has entered Zim in the past six
months. We have twelve van Jaarsvelds crossing the border, nine men, three
women.'

Advocate Tau Masilo murmured something inaudible, took a deep
breath and said: 'Bring me the original sound file.'

Wearing earphones, Masilo sat in front of the laptop, writing
pad beside him. At a quarter to one he took the headset off and asked: 'I want
the details of all the van Jaarsvelds with names starting with a "C"
or a "K".'

'I'll print it,' said Quinn.

Everyone in the room looked at Masilo expectantly.

'Might not be a rank, might be a name, badly pronounced,' he
said.

'Aah,' said Rajkumar.

At one o'clock Masilo looked up from the list of names and
asked Rajkumar: 'The Afrikaner guy on the Report Squad, what's his name?'

'Theunie.'

'What's his extension?'

'You want to talk to him now?'

'Yes.'

'Hang on,' said Rajkumar, then dialled Mother Killian and
asked to talk to Theunie. He held the receiver out to Masilo.

'Theunie ...? We have a woman with the name of Cornelia
Johanna. Is it possible that she would be called Cornel? Or something?' Masilo
listened a while, said, 'Thank you,' and put down the phone. 'Cornelia Johanna
van Jaarsveld. Her ID number is on the list. Get a home address, get people
there. I want to know everything there is to know.'

The day was a slow poison, gradually paralysing everyone.
Tension, boredom, frustration. At ten past three, a little excitement.

Over the loudspeaker, Shabangu's voice as he answered his
cellphone: 'Stop fucking calling me.'

'Ouboet
, I am just as tired as you are.
Let's get this thing behind us ...'

'Fuck you,' said Shabangu, and ended the call.

The operator who had sent Quinn the original sound files,
looked up and grinned. 'Becker,' he whispered.

Quinn nodded.

'Who?' Rajkumar and Masilo asked in unison.

Before they could answer, there was another call. Becker
again.
'Ouboet
, I'm not going to stop calling
until this thing ...'

Shabangu: 'Where did you get this fucking number?'

'One of your men gave it to me.'

'Which one?'

'He says his name is Kenosi.'

Shabangu cursed over the ether in Zulu, a stream of words
that cracked like a whip. Then: 'I'm going to come and get you.'

' Ouboet,
bring the money when you come.'

'Fuck you, Boer.'

' Ouboet
, should I rather come to your house?
Kenosi told me where you ...'

The call was abruptly cut off by Shabangu.

The surveillance operator laughed. 'Guy's got nerve.'

'What the hell was that all about?' asked Masilo.

'Who
is
this guy?' Raj
asked again.

Shabangu's voice interrupted them again: Becker was calling a
third time. 'Fuck off, just fuck off, I will not answer again.'

End of call.

'You
know
about this man?'
asked Masilo.

They filled him in, briefly, about the white man who wanted
his money back, apparently after a car hijacking.

'Why must I only hear about this now?'

Before anyone could explain, an operator said: 'Guys, we have
a problem.'

Everyone looked at him.

'Shabangu has just sent an SMS. It reads: "Cellphone now
off. Call Thato.'"'

'Shit,' said Rajkumar. 'Shit, shit, shit.'

'That's it. He's off-line.'

'What are the implications?' asked Masilo.

'Big,' said Rajkumar. 'Bad. He's been our primary, the number
we've been tracking.'

'Can we intercept the other numbers, the recipients of the
SMS?'

Rajkumar jumped up, waddled over to the door. 'We need more
equipment in that area. It's going to take hours. I'll get on it.'

Tau Masilo slowly lowered his head into his hands. 'Beckett?
Is that his name? Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?'

'No,' said Quinn. 'Becker. His name is Lukas Becker.'