Free Allegiance by Trevor Corbett

If a shooting started, what would he do? Fear prickled at his collar. In his mind, he quickly formulated a plan: he wouldn’t have time to phone Durant and warn him if he saw trouble coming. He would keep the car idling and use it as a shield and let Durant dive into the passenger side. No. That only worked in the movies. Why was he thinking like this? It was a simple meeting with a walk-in. He was being paranoid. He had to be alert, stay focused and do his job. He phoned Durant who was about fifty metres to the right of the restaurant, standing outside a furniture shop.
    ‘Kevin. I see the subject. Just sat down at one of the outside tables. Midthirties, clean shaven and very short black hair. He’s by himself, everything is quiet.’
    ‘Sure? No bad guys with guns around?’ Durant said dryly.
    ‘Kevin, don’t say that. I’m nervous as it is.’
    ‘I know. Just pulling your leg. Okay, I’m approaching him now.’
    ‘David Shaw,’ Durant said, shaking hands with Tanveer as he stood. The handshake was firm and confident and immediately Durant felt his intelligence radar bleep. This could be a good one. This was far different from his last encounter with an unknown walk-in. Perhaps it was because he had backup this time. And it wasn’t dark.
    ‘Pleasure to meet you. Arshad Tanveer. Thank you for coming.’ The men sat down together.
    ‘I’m eager to hear what you have to say, Mr Tanveer.’ Durant flipped open a notebook, a rather superfluous gesture as the digital recorder in his pocket would capture the conversation anyway.
    Tanveer leaned forward and almost whispered. ‘Do I have protection?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘What I say to you – am I protected? I need reassurance that I won’t be arrested by you.’
    Durant laughed. ‘I’m not a cop. All I’m interested in is information.’
    Tanveer leaned back and rested his hands on the table, palms up. ‘If I help you, will you help me?’
    Durant put the notebook on the table and folded his arms. ‘I’m not here to make deals with you; I’m just here to listen. So start talking. You came to us with an offer of information.’
    Tanveer shrugged and looked down at the table. ‘I appreciate your frankness, sir. I think I can work with you.’
    ‘We’re still far away from working together, Mr Tanveer.’ Durant looked at his watch. ‘You’ll need to start at the beginning.’
    Durant noticed Tanveer was starting to relax. Across the road, parked outside a take-away, Shabalala’s car. It was going to be a long and uneventful day, but at least he didn’t have to sit in a hot car. As Tanveer leaned forward, a waitress arrived at the table and he remained silent. Durant ordered two Cokes and flipped open his notebook.
    When the waitress walked away, Tanveer started talking. ‘Two years ago I came to this country from Pakistan.’
    ‘Hold on. I’ll need the exact date and how you came in, please.’
    ‘I had to make many sacrifices to leave Pakistan, the country of my birth. The dreams and hopes of my family rest on me now and I have to make a success, you understand?’ Durant noticed a single drop of perspiration on Tanveer’s forehead, but there was no other indication of anxiety.
    ‘You came in illegally. Right?’
    ‘Yes. I don’t remember the exact date. I came in through Swaziland and went to Johannesburg first, then to Durban.’ Durant was surprised at the words. It was a confession of a crime committed, yet he stated it without hesitation.
    Durant wrote in his notebook as the Cokes arrived, ‘shows promise’. ‘Go on,’ he said.
    ‘My parents sent me some money to start a business and now I have a small shop in town.’ His voice hinted at pride.
    ‘What business is it?’
    ‘I repair cellphones and also sell accessories.’ He slipped a business card across the table to Durant. ‘I don’t make a lot of money, Mr Shaw.’
    Durant knitted his brows. ‘Because there’s hundreds of other Pakistanis doing the same