Free Dark Intent by Brian Reeve Page B

at what to him was a green wasteland. ‘I don’t like this place. It’s only grass and hills. There’re no cars. We stand out like pimples on a baby’s arse.’
    ‘KwaZulu’s fragmented, broken up by white farms,’ said Krige. ‘It’s not unusual to see whites on these roads.’ He glanced at Dalton. ‘Keep to this road. We’ll see the gangster’s house.’ He uncased a pair of binoculars and held them on his lap.
    Before long they saw Shozi’s residence on the undulating land below them, the quarters in its shadow. ‘Stick to a crawl,’ said Krige, focusing the lenses on the complex. He studied it for a while then gradually took in the kopje that lay close to the bank of a meandering stream and a compact wild growth of trees and other natural vegetation. ‘The rocks are perfect,’ he said sinking into the seat. ‘The notes I have are accurate.’
    ‘And if you don’t get a shot at him?’ Dalton angled himself, studying Krige.
    ‘I’ll go closer,’ said Krige. ‘What do you expect? You’ve been in this business as long as I have.’
    ‘You’re forgetting the guards,’ said Dalton. ‘How do they fit into your plans?’
    ‘I want to be back here by four o’clock,’ said Krige, as if he hadn’t heard. ‘That gives us three hours of light.’ He put down the glasses. ‘Before then I want to see Malakazi where we should find the guerillas. We need to find a place for the car in that area so we can get out quickly after we have finished with the guerillas.’
    Dalton released the clutch sharply and speeded up. ‘What do we say if the Zulu police find the car?’
    ‘ The vegetation is a lot thicker round Malakazi than here and leaving the car there gives us a better chance of it not being detected,’ said Krige.
    Gradually the terrain changed from the predominant grass to a mix of s crub and flat-headed trees. After two valleys the township of Malakazi was visible from the road and marked by a corroded sign at the end of a graded track.
    ‘Go on a bit and let us get out,’ said Krige. ‘We won’t take long and I want a closer view.’
    Further on Dalton pulled up the car, parked and the two men entered the bush. They walked until they reached higher ground and saw below them the dispersed amalgam of housing, an insignificance compared to the expanse of Soweto, the south western townships of the Transvaal, or Gauteng as it was now called.
    ‘The path from Umbali comes in from the other side,’ said Krige, going under a tree. ‘It’s to the east of the room the guerillas are apparently using.’
    ‘Where is it?’ Dalton looked at the map, scanning the shaded part of the settlement. ‘How do you know?’
    ‘The intelligence I’ve been given.’ said Krige. ‘That’s about the end of the path.’ He touched a spot on the map. ‘The mayor’s house is a few hundred metres to the west and the same again south. On a hypotenuse that’s 700 metres. On this scale it’s about there.’ He moved his finger slightly.
    ‘Very clever,’ said Dalton. He expa nded his broad chest and frowned. Mathematics had never been his strong subject.
    Krige looked through the binoculars. ‘Dhlamini’s house is obvious,’ he said after a while. ‘It’s twice the size of the others, which is what I’d expect.’ He shifted the glasses a little. ‘I’ve got the room. It’s set alone with nothing beyond it except bush. It couldn’t be better for us when we come back after killing the Zulu.’
    ‘If they’re there, ’ said Dalton. ‘I’ll be happy when they get some lead and we can get out of here.’
    ‘They’ll be there and you’ll get your wish,’ said Krige, his jaw line taut. ‘You really hate them. Some will say they were fighting for human rights.’
    Dalton’ bronzed skin drained of colour. ‘You astonish me Major. Life means nothing to them. They’re savages, professional killers. Your children will die on their stakes. Is that what you want?’
    ‘ I want peace,’ said