Bush Whispers (Chapter 12)
Chapter 12
We were standing at a crossroads outside Pretoria the South African capital where the kidnapping had taken place and where as I then heard, two policemen had been killed, one of them recently married and the other leaving a wife and two children behind. That burned me, people getting killed for doing their jobs and little ones getting hurt in the process. We were all so involved in scoping out the skid marks and everything else we did not see the Ford truck approaching us slowly. I had just stepped into the road to get a better feeling for where she had been when the attack had taken place, when I heard the roar of a V8 engine and turn in time to see the truck coming straight at me. I did not even think as I dived off the road and rolled into the grass embankment while twisting myself to possibly see who was driving and saw two white guys with bandanas pulled up over their faces speed by. I saw the wide eyed looks of Margy and Morgan on the other side of the road and Morgan pulling a handgun and loosing off a couple of shots at the tail off the speeding truck. I got up and dusted off my pants and shirt and walked over to them.
“That was too damn close for comfort and those guys were white so the question goes a begging, are there white guys in the ANC or in any of those other groups you were speaking about?”
“More than likely but I don’t think they would have exposed themselves like that if they had been ANC or PAC too dangerous for them as we would have then rounded up anyone connected to them in any way.”
Then I saw a look of dawning in Morgans and Margy’s faces
“Bloody hell, are you thinking what I’m thinking Margs? This could be white radicals opposed to President Vorster talking to President Kaunda but nobody has said anything as yet.”
“Morgan that is exactly what I was thinking and if that is the case we might have a whole lot more trouble than we bargained for coming our way. We got to get Doggan to anywhere where he can see if anything comes up on his radar or whatever it is and we got to do it yesterday.”
We all ran back to Morgan’s Land Rover and took off in a cloud of dust.
“See if you can radio command and organise a flight to Botswana like right now Margs, you two need to get up there today.”
Margy was on the radio to command, wherever that was and within two minutes had organised a flight up to Manne. By the time we got to the Waterkloof air base everything had been organised, even the necessary flight plans and official entry permission and permits into Botswana. They had also collected Magy and my clothes, boy were these guys efficient or what?
On the flight up I was allowed to contact my dad over their radio but on our frequency. Dad was surprised to hear me and that we would be landing at about seven this evening and that we needed some runway lights of some sort so that we could put down, sort of in the dark. I also told him I would radio him again when we were a couple of miles out so that they could light it up and he said OK. Dad was pretty cool because he did not even ask why, he accepted what I had said and said it would be sorted by the time we got there. After about an hour the pilot informed us that we were flying into a strong head wind and that we would probably only get there by eight, maybe eight thirty so I got onto the radio again and let Dad know.
He asked “Want the kettle on or do you guys need some beers?”
I had said beers and did not get any argument from either Margy or the pilot, in fact saw a slight nod from Clive the pilot and a broad grin. We lapsed into silence and our own thoughts. We had been flying for quite a while and I was still tired from the day. I was just nodding off when the pilot said “Manne in about fifteen minutes.”
Both Margy and I sat up straighter and I fumbled for the radio. Clive pulled the mike off its holder and handed it to me.
“Manne this is Sierra Tango Zulu, come in.”
“Manne here, we got you.”
“Dad our ETA is about ten minutes from now and you might even be able to hear us by now. Light it up so we can zero in on the lights. Also can you make up some lights that can show the wind direction, thanks.”
“Will do, over and out.”
About a minute later we saw lights coming on in the distance, we were almost home. As we flew over we saw the lights were from about 10 truck parked along the perimeter and some of our portable lights strung out over the whole length of the flat spot and just off to the side was an arrow made up of torches or something but we then knew the wind direction. Clive banked just past the end of the runway, made a quick decent and planted the twin engine Cessna down on the flat spot and quickly came to a halt. We saw dad showing the pilot where to park and within a few minutes we were getting out, stretching and saying Hi to almost everyone from Manne including my three compadres, Brinn, Helah and Brigitte. Mom said nothing as she threw her arms around my neck with worry all over her face.
Dad just said “Thanks everybody. Guys there are beers inside, let’s go.”
He shook Margy and Clive’s hand and ushered them into the Landy and drove the 100 yards to the back of the hotel as the rest of us brought up the rear yakking and laughing. Quite a night, plus a first night landing at Manne.
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