Trackers (8 page)

'Have we no idea who Inkunzi Shabangu's contact in Harare
is?'

'No, ma'am. But we do know quite a few other things. We know
why Osman went to see Shabangu.'

'Share your insights,' said Janina Mentz.

'It is still an incomplete picture ...'

'That I know, Quinn. And it's quite a muddled picture to me.'

'Take it from the top,' said Masilo. 'It is very important that
we all understand exactly what's going on here.'

Quinn nodded, thought a moment before he came and sat down
opposite them.

'Very well,' he said. 'Picture it as a drama, with two main
actors and two supporting roles. Main character number one is Johnson Chitepo.
He is Zimbabwe's Chief of Joint Operations Command, he was Mugabe's right-hand
man, the man who negotiated the deal to acquire the diamond mine concessions in
the Congo. He was also the one who sold the diamonds in the carefree years so
that he and Comrade Bob could put money aside. Huge amounts of money. But that
was then. Things are appreciably different now. Mugabe and Chitepo are slowly
but surely losing their grip on power in Zim. Their diamond sales are curtailed
by sanctions and international agreements, their bank accounts are frozen, for
all practical purposes that money is lost. Chitepo's burning desire right now
is to quickly build up a new nest egg. Before the end arrives, and the end will
arrive, it's only a matter of time. He's sitting with at least a hundred
million dollars' worth of diamonds. Multiply that by seven, it's a lot of rands
... And he can't sell them directly But now he seems to have found new
partners. Someone in nature conservation, someone who can smuggle them out via
the greater Kruger Park. Does that make sense?'

Mentz nodded.

'Our second lead actor is Sayyid Khalid bin Alawi Macki. He
was the one who formerly helped Chitepo with the diamond sales, he was the one
who converted the Congo diamonds into cash, laundered the money and deposited
it in the Swiss bank accounts of Mugabe and his cronies. But once his channels
were choked off, the big friendship between him and Chitepo soured. Before I go
on, there are a lot of things we must keep in mind when it comes to Macki. One:
his core business is money laundering, and he operates all over Africa. We know
he does it for the pirates in Somalia, for the fraud and drug networks in
Nigeria, and the car-theft syndicates in Mozambique. Two: the international
economic crisis hit him hard. He lost huge investments in Dubai, his turnover
is generally over sixty per cent down, he is battling at the moment. Three: he
is a militant Muslim from Oman, currently the new and greatest growth point for
al-Qaeda. And four: Macki has a soft spot for al-Qaeda. His success, his wealth
und his support have given him prominence in those circles. Prominence that he
badly wants to regain.'

Quinn gave Mentz
a chance to take it all in.

'The main intrigue of our drama is Chitepo's desire to sell
diamonds, and Macki's view that the little stones belong to him, or that he has
at least a fifty per cent share in them, according to the original agreement.
Somehow or other, Macki heard of Chitepo's plans, and he is determined to
intercept the booty. The so-called "shipment". His problem is that he
no longer has friends in Zimbabwe, and he is sitting in Oman. So, what can he
do? His only recourse is to talk to his contacts closest to the action, his
Muslim brothers.'

'The Supreme Committee,' said Janina Mentz.

'Here in the fairest Cape,' said Advocate Tau Masilo.

'Exactly,' said Quinn. 'That is why Macki called the first
supporting actor on the stage. Suleiman Dolly, Chairman of the Supreme
Committee.'

'The call that our mole, Ismail Mohammed overheard.'

'That's right. Macki knew Dolly and the Supreme Committee
needed funds urgently for the project they are working on.'

'The local project, which according to Ismail Mohammed is the
smuggling in of weapons.'

'And now, the entrance of our second supporting actor, Julius
"Inkunzi" Shabangu. My gut feeling is that Macki recommended
Shabangu. Remember, Macki is a money launderer. Through the Mozambican car
syndicates he would be at least aware of Shabangu, but more likely he has done
business with him directly already ...'

'We also know,' said Tau Masilo, 'that Inkunzi Shabangu has a
lot of Zimbabweans working for him in Gauteng. Car hijackers.'

'Exactly,' Quinn agreed. 'And according to the Scorpions'
dossiers he is also suspected of supplying false passports to Zimbabweans and
Nigerians. So he will have good contacts in Harare ... In any case, when Macki
talked to Suleiman Dolly, ten to one he recommended Inkunzi as a possible
partner in the whole scheme. And Dolly sent one of his Supreme Committee
members to consult with Inkunzi. Osman, in the guest house in Johannesburg.
Inkunzi will be keen to keep Macki happy, but above all he is a businessman. He
will take a percentage of every transaction. Osman's suggestion of a
cooperation was entirely acceptable to him.'

'Mmm,' said Janina Mentz.

'Inkunzi and his strange new associate, the Supreme
Committee, want to intercept Chitepo's new parcel of diamonds,' Tau Masilo
said.

'The shipment,' said Quinn.

'And Inkunzi has to find out which route it will take. Which South
Africans are involved.'

Both men looked at the Director. She pushed up her spectacles
and stood up.

'I think this will make a very interesting report,' said Tau
Masilo. 'For the President.'

Mentz took her time. The men waited in suspense. 'You are making
one cardinal error,' said Mentz. 'Allocating roles. The report will be a
failure if you present Chitepo and Macki as lead actors.'

Advocate
Tau Masilo was quick to understand. 'For our purposes the main role will be
played by the Supreme Committee and their weapons deal.'

7
September 2009. Monday.

Milla was dressed in her black dress and boots, with the
short blue denim jacket. She felt comfortable, as though she were developing a style,
the working woman adapted to the informality of the Report Squad. She sat
behind her computer at a quarter to nine, reading her first
News This Week,
the titbits from Limpopo and
Mpumalanga. There was an air of expectation in the office. Theunie, one of the
two bald men who were both very comfortable with the respectful Afrikaans
address form of 'Oom', had said there was Something Big brewing, because
Bigfoot had summoned Mother, a definite omen.

Oom Theunie and his nicknames. 'Mother' was Mrs Killian,
'Bigfoot' referred to Rajkumar, the fat Indian, whom he also called 'AS', short
for 'Abominable Snowman', or 'The Incredible Bulk', or sometimes just 'The
Bulk'.

Milla he called 'Carmen', Jessica, 'Freia' (or 'The Goddess'
when referring to her in the third person), Don MacFarland, the other old man
in the team, was 'Mac' of' Mac the Wife'. 'Why "Mac the Wife"?' she
had asked.

Don answered her himself. 'Because I'm gay, my dear.'

At a quarter to nine Mrs Killian hurried in and called them together
with a bundle of thin folders in her hand.

'The Bulk has spoken,' said Oom Theunie.

'Theunie, you are going to write the executive summary, the
rest of you will be doing addenda.' She handed Milla a folder. 'Your subject is
Johnson Chitepo, see if you can find something more recent on the Internet, and
let Theunie explain how the format works. Jess, you will be doing Sayyid Khalid
bin Alawi Macki...'

'Who?'

'It's all in here, but it's badly dated. Interesting man.
Don, I'm giving you the important stuff.'

'Of course you are.'

'Qibla, the Supreme Committee, al-Qaeda, and a brand new
subject. A Mr Julius Nhlakanipho Shabangu, aka "The Bull".'

'Because he has such a big horn?'

She didn't laugh. 'It's big and it's urgent. Let's get
going.'

On her couch, the adrenaline of the day still coursing
through her, the pleasure of camaraderie and the learning curve and fraternal
witticisms still warming her, with sudden impulsiveness, she phoned her son.

'Hello?' he said, teenage suspicion at a number he didn't
recognise.

'Barend, it's me.'

'Ma?' Dumbfounded.

'I just wanted to hear your voice.'

'Where are you, Ma?'

'I'm at my new house. How are you?'

'Ma ...
Jissis,
Ma ...'

'Barend ...' Sorry she had phoned. Realising that her
euphoria was hers alone.

'You've got a house, Ma?'

'Just a little flat. Could we just talk?'

Her son hesitated before he answered, a tentative 'OK.'

'How are you?'

'Ma ... Do you really want to know?'

'Yes, Barend, I really want to know. You know I love you very
much.'

'Then why did you run away?'

Run away.
'Did you get my letters?'

'Are we really
that
bad,
Ma?'

Something in the words and the way he said them made her
think they came from Christo's mouth. Suddenly she didn't want to talk any
more, but she had no choice now. She sat up straight and concentrated. 'I
tried to explain this clearly for you, that it's not you ...'

'Ma ...'

'Just listen. Please. I had to get away, precisely because I
love you, Barend, I don't know if you can understand that.'

He said nothing.

'Can I tell you something? I have a job, I had an amazing day
today, I felt I meant something ...'

'You could have stayed and still got a job. Why did you have
to run away?'

She was about to fall into the old rut, but stopped herself
in time. 'How is your school work?'

'How do you think? We have a maid now, I have to come home to
a bloody black ...'

'Barend!'

He mumbled something.

'Where did you learn that?' But she knew where. Christo, the covert
racist, bemoaning his lot in front of his son: 'Now we have to come home to a
bloody black. Thanks to your mother.' Without wondering for one second whether
he shared the blame for it.

'Ma, what do you care?'

Milla reached for her cigarettes. She must keep her cool. 'I
had hoped we could talk. Without blame. I thought if we talked often, we could
try to rebuild our relationship.'

'So / drove you away.'

'Barend, our relationship was totally wrecked. I am prepared
to try and fix it. If you are.'

'Will you come home?'

'Maybe we shouldn't talk about the future. Let's take it day
by day. Let's just try to fix it first. What do you think?'

He was silent for a long time. 'OK.'

8
September 2009. Tuesday.

In Rajkumar's office Janina Mentz put the Report Squad's work
down in front of the fat Indian and said, 'It's not good enough.'

And then she told him what changes she wanted, more emphasis
to be laid on possible weapons transactions. She did not enlighten Raj as to
the source of her inspiration. Only an hour before she had read the latest
article in
Die Burger
describing the
parliamentary storm that had erupted over the DA MP's allegations that the ANC
government had been selling weapons to so-called pariah states. 'National
security has been jeopardised. Maynier could be criminally charged,' a member
of the ruling party had said.

Janina Mentz was delighted at this turn of events, the whole
question of arms deals brought back into the spotlight. She knew that was the
last thing the President wanted, given the stigma that clung to Mo Shaik,
likely candidate to head the new intelligence superstructure, even if only by
association with his convicted brother.

If she
handled it right, this offered her leverage.

9
September 2009. Wednesday.

D-Day for Operation EAM.

Quinn sat at three monitors wearing a communications headset.
He was alone; they wanted no witnesses if this went awry. He was tense, this
operation had been his idea and it was risky. A small error could be glossed
over, managed as a temporary setback. But if things went badly pear-shaped, the
whole Supreme Committee project would be down the tubes.

The goal was to plant an electro-acoustic microphone (EAM) in
the wall of 15 Chamberlain Street. Also known as a concrete microphone, the
device was sometimes used by plumbers to detect water leaks in walls.

He had come up with the plan himself
a week ago, to use an existing structure to plant the microphone deep within
the brick and cement of No 15's front wall - the TV satellite dish, which a
former owner had bolted to the exterior wall just to the left of the front
door.

Step two was the preparation. The PIA's technical division,
led by an enthusiastic Rajkumar, had made an identical replica of the dish and supporting
arm, based on photos taken through the window of the house opposite. One of the
four bolts now housed the microphone. A radio transmitter and battery were
built into the pipe of the support arm. The radio receiver was already
installed in the surveillance house at 16A Chamberlain.