Fire in the Hole

By Van

Tattoo, fascinated by the hole being dug under his scrotum. Became worried. Fear grips him. He looks into the steel grey eyes of Kisten and could not read him. "What are you digging the hole for?" in a drawl Kisten spoke. "I asked you a question, mister. You refused to answer. You said that I cannot make you talk. I say I can make you sing. What I am going to do to you now has never been done by anybody else. Never been in the newspapers and never in the books I have read. This is torture in the first degree. Invented by me." Kisten sets light to the tinder. Sees the blue flames. "You will never be a whole man again."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398422520

Van

Van, born in 1950, did his national service in Pretoria, and worked at Western Province Sports Club for eighteen years. He began travelling in the late eighties, backpacking through Asia and Western Europe. Finally, he settled in Britain and began writing.

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About the Author

Van was born in 1950. He did three years of national service and then worked at Western Province Sports Club in Cape Town, South Africa. Van began his travels in the late 80s. He travelled a number of countries in Asia and Western Europe before settling in England and began his writing.

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Van 2023

The right of Van to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398409972 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398404083 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781398422520 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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Chapter 1

Reds Kisten retrieved his bag from the back of the jeep and spoke to the major, I’m not up to living in the bushes anymore, Major. So don’t you go starting another war. You hear?

Be ready for the frontline when the call comes, soldier boy. The major hooted once and drove off.

Kisten stared at the fumes of the exhaust for a moment. Strapped on his shoulder bag and glanced at his watch. An hour to boot before train time. A cup of tea would help pass time. After that he will be bound for Cape Town where he will be starting a new life.

The desert skies seem very high. Tiny puffs of white clouds floating lazily by and the orange glow in the eastern skies. Promised to be a blistering hot day as the morning wore on. He will soak up the heat. For now, he’d make the most of the morning. He was a civilian once more. The knowledge of being out of the army was slowly settling in.

He filled his lungs and held his breath to savour the desert air. Great to be out of the army. Out of the jungles. No more hunting in wild countries. No more fighting. No more sleeping in the bush. Now, a hot bath will do. Bed, soft pillow and yes. The picture of his dream girl circulating inside his head. He wanted it to materialise and come true.

The Major had dropped Kisten off at the train station. A long brown rectangular brick building that did duty as a ticket office. Waiting room and a kiosk. Built on a platform with an awning. The scorching sun. Hot dry wind battered the red and green paintwork to a non-script pinkish-white and dull green. The building now looked old and run-down with neglect.

A mile away from the station can be seen the coal mining state of Bloemfontein. Flat semi-desert wasteland. Blackened by coal dust. In the vicinity of the coalmines was a dozen barracks to house the miners and to cater for the needs of the miners. A general store which also handled the postal services for the miners.

He pulled the brim of the baseball cap lower. Undid the top two buttons of his shirt then tried to figure why the train stopped in this dusty godforsaken coal-mining village. He would like to know why. There was nothing out here but coal dust and centipedes.

Maybe the transport ministers were weighing the cost. Whether shutting down this stop will break the bank or not. Whether it did, Reds did not know. But this out of the way stop was losing revenue. It could easily run out of the bustling Johannesburg Grand Central. A half hour journey by coach from here. Where it is much cleaner and densely populated. Yet it did stop here once a week to pick an occasional miner, working on the coalfields whose home and family ties were in the Cape Province area. A journey of over seven hundred miles.

He wiped the sweat off his brows and made his way to the station’s office. Purchasing a single ticket that will take him to the end of the tracks. The ticket safely tucked in his pocket, he sauntered into the kiosk next door to the ticket office on the platform. A cup of tea while waiting for the arrival of the train.

The waitress served Kisten sandwich with his tea and pulled out a chair. As he was the only customer in the café, she lingered by the table. To pass the time of day. She boasted the train always ran on time. It had a trolley service of refreshment. A private compartment for the whole of the journey can be hired. What she did not boast about was the coal-burning engine which spewed powdery ashes. Sifting in through vents and cracks. Into every coach. Covering every square inch of the compartment with thick layers of soot.

An hour after, the train departed the station. He was blackened by the ashes and the train had only just entered the semi-arid country. The Great Karroo. The passengers were at the mercy of the scorching desert sun and stifling coal dust. Temperature inside the compartment, a blistering forty five degrees. Hot and restless, he tried lying on the bunk to conserve energy and covered his face with a bandana to keep the ashes out of his mouth and nostrils. Sleep would not come. He was too restless.

As the train journeyed into the interior, it became hotter. Temperature rising to forty nine degrees. Unbearable. His shirt clinging to him. Clammy with sweat. Resting on the bunk became impossible. Lying still drew no comfort. To catch a little breeze. He stood in the corridor of the train and the scenery had little to offer.

This was drought-prone country. Averaging an inch of rainfall every two years. Short, dry grass stretching as far as the eye could see. Good country for sheep. Only the hardy breed and the land crawled with them. Sometimes, in the vast, arid land. A sheepherder would be seen grazing his herd. When a train passes by. The sheepherder will show big white teeth and waves at the passengers as the train speeds by.

Reds waved back at a shepherd who was herding his flock near the tracks. The sudden blast of the horn signalled the end of the desert country. Beaufort West was the next town and a changes of engines. Reds had not moved from the corridor while a few more passengers boarded the train. The electric engine was almost silent. Only the clickity-clack of the track. Soon the scrublands were disappearing. Civilisation could be seen. He washed his face in lukewarm water and ran his fingers through his hair. Dusted his clothes and was ready to face the new challenges that lay ahead of him.

He followed the throng of passengers and made his way into the city. A soldier first. Primed to fight in the battlefield. Now in the mix with peace loving folks. He was a little edgy because for a better part of his life. He was a loner living in the wilderness. Now with throngs of people on the streets. This was new territory for him. He looks at the crowd around him. Not that he was afraid of people. Far from it. It’s just that after years of living alone in the wilderness. His feeling now was that the town was too crowded for him.

He was fresh out of the army to face the prospect of a civilian life. He chose Cape Town for his stay. He had seen this part of the country once only. The memory stayed with him ever since.

How long ago was that? He tried to think. It seems like only yesterday he had passed this way. Yet it was more than ten years ago. The first time he felt edgy like this was when he was drafted into the army. To fight the border war against neighbouring countries. Now to re-enter civilian life again was a far cry from the bush. He just did not like crowds.

All he ever knew was to fight and kill. He had lived like an animal. He hunted and killed like one. Right from the time he was drafted into the unit as a sniper. The snipers were a separate branch from the regular force. It was known as SAK (Seek and Kill). A secret group of men working for the South African Defence Force. In simpler terms, they were the Hitmen for the country.

He was called The Wolf. He hunted like one. Like them when on the scent of a prey. He stayed relentlessly on the hunt until the end. Terrorist insurgents or their supporters ran or left the country if there was a hint that Kisten was on their trail. Through terrorists network. They had heard of his reputation. They feared him. They knew when he showed up at a place. One of them on his list will be found dead. He was elusive. Hard to detect. Silent. When the shooting was over, he vanished without a trace.

When Kisten was recruited into the force, he was just a boy attending school. That was fifteen years ago. Here he was starting all over again. In a city crowded with people. Whereby, he felt more comfortable staying in caves. Under rocky outcrops. Even on top of palm trees rather than a populated town.

Living off the land was second nature to him. He could and did live off roots, bulbs and animals which could be snared. Guns were rarely fired at prey. Sound travels. It could be heard by the enemies if they were in the vicinity. They would be forewarned of danger.

Reds worked as a sniper in the army. He was chosen for the extraordinary flair he has in using a rifle. At a time when the army needed men of his skills. South Africa was at war with its neighbouring countries. The border war was fought from the east coast of Maputo to the Namibian coast in the west. Spilling deep into Congo and Tanzania.

Terrorist insurgents from hostile nations infiltrated South Africa’s borders. Looting. Murders and causing havoc to villages and farming communities in the area. To combat the threat a small band of snipers were formed. Men who could live off the desert and work alone? Their job was solely to hunt infiltrators wherever they had their hideouts. Or on the scene of their crime and eliminate them.

Insurgents’ bases were always found in the most inhospitable places on the continent. Fight against terror took snipers into the dense jungles of Mozambique. Into remote areas of the Kalahari Desert. From Namibian Deserts into tropical forests of mid-Africa.

A full-scale guerrilla war was fought along the borders. Civilians knew nothing of the battle. They were kept in the dark. They were not aware that Russian trained terrorists filtered into the country looting and killing settlers and farmers along the border. In their ignorance, they went on with their day to day chores leading a normal life while the army was kept busy along the border. They kept the internal machinery of the country working while the war department saw to safeguarding the country’s border.

Snipers numbering a hundred, worked covertly from the regular soldiers. But when a sniper does encounters a large bunch of terrorist. Then only will he request the backing of the army. The South African Secret Service known as BOSS or (Bureau of State Security) was the overall controllers of this small group of men.

The Major, Jan De Hass who had recruited Reds Kisten. Supervised and assigned SAK team their dirty works because the army’s work was too busy fighting for the country. They had to defend the border against full scale attacks. At the same time to supply snipers with transport to and from designated hotspots.

No one, other than a handful of army personnel, knew this group of snipers existed. They were the army’s secret weapon. Trained to kill quickly. Efficiently and taught tracking skills by the best trackers in the world. The Sands People. Formerly known as the Bushmen. With these skills on hand, snipers were sent out on specific assignments.

Rebel leaders of neighbouring countries and their allies strived to overthrow the South African government for the wealth and to occupy the country. They began by sending small bands of terrorists who usually slip through the border guards. Once across. They then spread their reign of terror. They’d kill and destroy everything in their path. Besides filtering through borders into the country. Many entered using forged travel documents.

Terrorists who entered the country using false document. Usually disembarked at two of the busiest airports in the country. Cape Town and Johannesburg. Disappearing into squatter camps which were sprouting around the cities like mushrooms. Once settled in, they began recruiting local supports. Promising them rich pickings. Squatters will be stirred to riots. Unrests in Townships were rife. Taxing the limits of the army too.

When BOSS agents gathered information and movements of the enemies. Their names and descriptions of insurgents were then passed on to the Major. From there on, it was up to the Major to assign a sniper for the liquidation of the terrorist.

Jan De Haas was highly respected by his peers. It was a known fact. Snipers would only take their orders or be briefed by him. Towards the tail end of the war, it was suggested by the major. Snipers who risked their lives to turn the tide of the war. Who had no fixed abode to go back to. Should be provided with accommodation anywhere in the country they choose to live. Reds, now standing on the kerbstone on Adderley Street, Cape Town. Suspected it was because of him the Major had suggested it.

Now, standing on the pavement of Cape Town. Pedestrians stopped to stare at Reds Kisten. He knew what they were staring at. His broad shoulders made him look taller than most. His weather-beaten face now covered with ashes and grime. Faded camouflage shirt and trousers. Gave him the looks of a clown. They probably wondered which hole he had sprung out from. He stared back at men. Smiled at women. Smiling softened his looks. Soot made him look comical. Women smiled back at him.

Reds Kisten had a look of the wilderness about him. Straight black hair above a triangular face. Skin drawn tight. Eyes narrow from squinting long in the sun and wind. Steely brown that made a man stop and think before he looked into them a second time.

He was a tall man, two inches over six feet. Wide shoulders and military bearing gave him a commanding look. He was more at home in the desert and bush than on the paved street of Cape Town. Light of feet. Quick hands and had none of the city man’s walk. He had the walk of a hunter. Now, that the war was over. He must learn to socialise. To mingle with people. Live with them.

He stood on the pavement. Just looking around him. Taking in the crowd and the surroundings. Watching the heavy flow of traffic and pedestrians jostling by. Pushing and shoving others out of the way. Drivers honking and swearing at one another. What was the world coming to? The city had developed at an astonishing speed since he had last seen it.

All round him were high rise building. Obscuring Lions Head. Cape Town’s harbour and the Atlantic Ocean were behind him. Straight ahead and over the buildings were the majestic cliffs of Table Mountain.

To the left of the mountain. The tips of Devils Peak could be seen. On his left was the post office building. Grand Parade was behind the post office. Stretching for miles beyond that, is Cape Flats. Somewhere there in the vastness, he will make his home.

Reds was digesting the scenery when he was rudely interrupted by the screeching of tyres. Almost running him down. Are you getting out of the way or not? demanded the driver.

A female driver. Young with a kind of confidence or cockiness about her. Who expected her demands to be met. Without questions. The open top of the car. Low seat made her tilt her head to look up at the tall figure of Kisten. Her mouth set in hard lines.

She was about to open her mouth again. Before she could, Kisten spoke loud enough for the pedestrians to hear. Lady, I am standing on the pavement. I believe it is for pedestrians’ use. Don’t you think so?

Pedestrians standing close to Kisten began backing away from the car. He was conscious of the shuffling. It was as if they knew the driver. She was trouble. He did not know her. He stood his ground. He was in the right. Sidewalks or pavements were meant for the safety of pedestrians. Not for vehicles.

She opened her pretty mouth to cuss. She could cuss. She was one of the spoilt brats who had to have it her way. When she stopped cussing to catch her breath. Kisten grabbed her under the armpits and lifted her clear of the seat. He was big, powerfully built. Picked her up with ease. Kissed her full on the lips and plunked her back on the seat.

Pedestrian stopped to watch the entertainment. Some of them smiled. Whatever they knew about her. She was getting one back. She opened her mouth again. Kisten kissed her before she could cuss and dumped her back on the seat. Grinning at her. He saw the rise and fall of her breast. Someone giggled behind him. Her face reddened. Her make-up was smeared. A smidgen of coal dust on her face.

She was about to open her mouth again. Then thought better of it. She got out of the car via the passenger’s door. Crossed the street and disappeared into the shopping mall. The entertainment over. Crowd dispersed and went about their business. Reds strapped the heavy backpack to his shoulder and strolled down Adderley Street. Into Adderley Gardens.

Strolling through tree-lined avenues. Bought an ice cream and sat on a park bench. Just letting the tension of the war drain out of his system. At a leisurely pace, he strolled across the Grand Parade and the market. Eyeing their wares.

The shoulder bag sat heavily on his back. The bag contained his second set of clothes. A collection of army memorabilia’s. Also, in the backpack were his army discharge papers. Few odds and ends accumulated after his parents pulled up stakes and made their run to Australia. His gun license. A right to bear firearm which at that time was very rare for a civilian to be issued with one and his handgun. He adjusted the backpack into a more comfortable position and decided it was time to locate his property. He stopped his wandering and asked a pedestrian to point him in the direction of Rylands Estate.

He was given direction and joined the queue at the bus terminus. While waiting for the bus that will take him to Rylands Estate. He heard the familiar voice behind him. He turned to face the speaker. It was that girl again. Can I offer you a ride, mister? Get in. Before Reds could reply. She smiled at him. My name’s Zara. And opened the passenger door for him.

Kisten hesitated. He was not on the lookout for a woman. Not now although it will come later. He wanted to settle down first. To have a place of his own he could call home. Right now, he needed a bath. To wash off the grime. But the provocative way she sat on the seat did something to him.

The low cut of her dress. Partly revealing her breast and the movement of her knees. Aroused something which was hidden away in the darkness of his mind. He shrugged his shoulders. Did what he never dreamed he would do. Let a woman seduce him. But the urge was there.

He dumped the backpack on the back seat of the car and got in. Little realising what he was about to do will lead to a chain of events that will affect him later.

Warning bells rang. Kisten ignored them. All thoughts of finding his property were forgotten. Leaning back on the seat, he shut his eyes. Felt the wind caressing his hair. The primal urge to mate was stronger when she dropped her hand on his thigh. The lure was there. He fell for it. This one time he will sail the sea.

Chapter 2

Zara Vitor, a cute button of a girl. Was no more than five feet three. Bleached blonde hair. Big dark eyes. Had the shape to take a man’s eye and knew how to swish her skirts. She teased any man who looked her way when passing by and at a very young age was introduced to the world of crime. She was allowed to roam the street she lived on freely. No one molested her.

Addicts and thieves got to know her. Stolen goods which could not be disposed of. Were given to her when she was a little girl with spindly legs. Now, grown up to be an attractive girl. She outgrew petty gifts like televisions and stereos the thieves showered her with. She settled for nothing less than jewellery.

Her father, Eduardo Vitor. Is a small time crook specialising in the handling of stolen goods. He also peddled drugs whenever he could lay his hands on it. Out of Hanover Park, Vitor wished to expand his business. Riches to be made were in the drugs trade. Together with his daughter Zara. Approached the drug barons to make a deal with them. They were told to hit the road in not so polite terms. Powerless to settle their argument with the mob. They stood on the roadside. Shocked at the rude dismissal by the mob bosses.

At that precise moment, when they were thrown out by the mobsters. They were standing on the roadside. A limousine pulled into the driveway. Kane Elite. Son of the mob boss, Dada Elite, got out. He was recognised at once by Zara and her father. They heard that he was a womaniser. Zara made a pass at Kane. It paid off. An instant hit with Kane. His excitement was all too apparent. A beautiful woman making a play for him. He spoke to them then and there by the roadside. After that, Zara became his woman. Her father got his regular supply of drugs.

Zara was accepted in the Elite’s circle. But she had to toe the line because no one crossed the Elites and talked about it. They were dealt with immediately. Many were killed. Many even had their limbs broken just for staring at Kane. The Elites were utterly ruthless and ruled the town with an iron fist.

The Elites had another house in Kenilworth and Kane set up Zara to live there. Once she was in, it didn’t take her long to realise the mistake she had made. There was no way she could backtrack from the commitment made to the Elites. If she did, she faced losing her limbs or death.

She soon learnt that she was Kane’s girl in a long line of girls. She will be lucky if he paid her a visit once a month. Longer when he went abroad on his business trips. But a man was a fool to leave a woman alone for such long periods. He should know flesh is weak. When alone, it begins to wander.

Zara was careful at first. Not to make mistakes for the Elites were notoriously respected in Cape Town. Any piece of action she seeks was bound to filter back to them. But that did not mean she was not on the lookout for entertainment. When Reds Kisten showed up in town. It was a god send. She pegged him for a stranger who does not know of the mob. If he had known, he would not have had kissed her on the street. He would have backed off like the pedestrians did. Which she had noticed.

When Kisten showed up on the streets of Cape Town. Her prayers were answered. Kane, at that time, was abroad. Purchasing Mandrax tablets to meet the drug demand. He will be away for a month. She had time to flirt and took Kisten to her apartment in Kenilworth. The bathroom is through that door. Get cleaned while I brew the tea.

Reds soaped his hair and stood under the shower. Hot spray stung his shoulders. Drumming out all sounds in the shower cubicle. Keen senses attuned to temperature. He was washing the coal dust from his ears when he felt the draught on his back. Zara. Naked, she got into the shower with him.

Tea can wait. Time is too precious to waste, she kissed him. Hungrily, she worked her way down. Deft fingers caressed his inner thighs as she took him in her mouth. Expertly, her tongue worked him to a peak. Throatily, Take me now.

Zara was much too short for Reds to take while standing, He lifted her off the floor to enter her. Standing under the shower he made love to her. He then carried her to the bedroom to make love to her again. He too was hungry.

Twenty days and nights they made love in any secluded spot they could find. They painted the town red. They swam in the warm waters of False Bay. Relaxed naked on secluded Llandudno Beach. Took in the concert, cinemas too. Zara felt free like a bird. Having a jolly good time. Wishing it would never end.

Reds’ guards were down. He got careless and should have known all good things come to an end. It did one morning when he came out of the shower in Zara’s house. He stepped out of the cubicle. Into the bedroom and heard voices in the living room.

Zara was not prepared for unexpectedness. She was surprised when Kane returned two weeks earlier than expected. She knew she was in dire strait. But she must not show it. She must remain calm and bring her streetwise days to the fore. You should have phoned to let me know you were coming home, darling.

I wanted to surprise you with a present. A male voice.

Look at me, darling, Zara purred, I am not prepared for you. I always want to look my best when my man is home.

My business affair in India was a success. There was no point in staying any longer. The male voice again.

Kisten heard them clearly. He didn’t have to make a second guess to know what the setup was. Zara was his mistress. This house was his setup. Whenever he needed an extra portion of meat he came to her for it. In the meantime, Zara knew how to fill in the time during his absence. Only this time he surprised her by coming home without telling her.

To slip out unseen was impossible. Reds must pass through the living room. That was where Zara and her lover were. He decided if there was to be a fight. He will fight or settle his presence in the house diplomatically. He dressed as quickly as he could. Stuffed the rest of his belongings into the backpack and waited. He did not have long to wait. He heard them coming but was not prepared for what was to come. He expected to be confronted by an enraged lover.

The bedroom door opened. Zara screamed. She screamed even before the door could be fully opened. Her rehearsal was good. She knew Kisten was in the room. As a good actress. She played her innocence part well to Kane. She planned it before entering the room. Hysterically she screamed a second time and fainted in a heap. Kisten knew she was faking. But still. He was not prepared for her acting.

Zara’s man took one look at the Kisten. Skedaddled his bulk into the next room and bolted the door. Kisten stepped past Zara. Out of the bedroom into the hallway. He heard the man on the telephone, speaking to the police. Reds made his decision.

The man will not fight. Reds could walk away. Decided against it. He will stay and face the law. How far can he walk lugging his personal belongings. No transport nearby. No place he could run to. He wouldn’t have gotten far with the heavy bag sitting on his shoulder. The police were at the scene within minutes. No eye contact was made with Zara as Kisten was led away. Locked up in Roland Street Police Station for a week before being transferred to Polls Moor Prison. Bail was not granted as he had no fixed postal address.

Number of days Reds Kisten was held in prison awaiting trial. He befriended the prison officer, Victor David. Through him Kisten learnt the name of Zara’s fiancé, Kane Elite. He also learnt of the Elite’s lawyer, Benjamin Roach. Judge Simon Heywood. His father Dada and the name the mob calls themselves by, ‘The Globe Gang’.

You will be charged for the following: Breaking and entry, theft and grievous bodily harm.

That is a lie. A frame-up. I did no such crime.

It makes no difference to them, mister. They have trumped up charges before and certainly this won’t be their last. Facts are you won’t get a fair hearing and the minimum sentence you will receive is two years.

That’s outrageous. He can’t send me to prison without a trial.

They did before and got away with it. They can do it again. You see. Kane Elite is the son of a powerful drug’s baron. Large sums of money are lined into the Judge’s pocket by Dada Elite. Me. Personally, I suspect the Judge has his fingers in the racket as well.

Look Reds, this is how it works, David looks both ways down the corridor before continuing, and you can prepare yourself for it. You will be led from the holding cell to the docks. Upon your arrival, the Judge will read your case file. He will pass sentence. Bang his gavel and say, ‘Case closed.’ He gets up and leaves the courtroom. You will not get to say one word. Not even sideways to the judge. You will be led back to this cell. Later in the day you will be transferred to another block to serve out your sentence.

Reds looked at David, Is there any way I can speak to the judge?

Are you deaf, man? Didn’t you hear what I have just said? Kane Elite will not even be present in court to testify against you. It was all set up. Cut and dried the minute you were arrested.

Reds Kisten turned away from the officer and paced the cell. Thinking what had he gotten himself into? All he ever wanted was a little fun. How was he to know she was the mistress of a drug baron? He cursed himself for being a fool. If only he heeded the warning bells when it rang. He would not be in this mess now.

Two years? Why does it take a woman to get a man into trouble? He swore again. Thirty years of age this year. Fifteen of them in the army. Fighting a bloody war to defend the country. To save the necks of this crooked judge and drug dealers. Only to end up in prison.

Reds, where were you these past years that you don’t know what is happening around you? You do not know anything about the Globe Gang or Elites for that matter?

Kisten looks at the officer for several seconds before replying, That is correct. I don’t know anything about this part of the country. But I am learning fast. Tell me, can you get access to the storeroom?

Yes, I can. What’s in there that you need?

My luggage is held in the storeroom. There is a backpack with my initials on it. Look inside. You will find a black leather case with my army records and discharge papers in it. You got to give those papers to the Judge to read before the start of the day.

What good will a handful of papers do to help you?

Maybe nothing, David. Then again maybe there is something in my files which will give the Judge something to think about. He will know where I am coming from after he goes through my file. He will think twice before sending me to prison without a fair trial. If he goes ahead of railroading me. It will get some of my friends from the Capital asking question. They will dig until they get answers. The Judge’s position will be brought into disrepute when it becomes known he is linked to the drug dealers.

The Capital is over seven hundred miles from here. Will they come?

Oh yes, they will David. A dozen or more men will come. Some will dig into the legal aspect of this case. Others will go after the mob or syndicate or whatever they call themselves. One thing I do know of the men who will come to investigate. They cannot be bought by the mob. They will never shovel the judge’s dirt under the carpet to cover his crimes. They will hang him.

David was leaning against the bars of the cell. He stands up straight.

Who are you, Kisten? Where did you come from?

How to answer a question like that? He simply cannot tell David he was a sniper. A taker of life. Murderer he was called by his father. The army trained him to kill whoever posed a threat to the government and country. Snipers position in the army were kept a secret. No one outside the Secret Service and the people who trained him. Knew that a group of Snipers existed.

The snipers were robots. Killers. Takers of human life in the war. They lost all feeling and showed no remorse towards the enemies. Worked towards the defence of the country. Took orders without questioning them and obeyed it to the letter. Their work was to hunt and kill with no second thoughts. No questions must be asked.

The war was over. Reds just wanted to get into the mainstream of life quickly. Zara saw to his needs and he was coming back to reality. In the past weeks after his discharge from the army, he was getting a little of his feelings. Emotions back. It was short lived. Now he was to face a two-year term in prison. All because of Zara. He was not going to let that happen that easy.

Side-stepping a little from the truth, he said to David. I was a soldier in the army. A plain, everyday soldier building makeshift bridges over ravines or rivers to get troops across to the firing line.

"You know David; we were at war the past few years. The countries we fought underestimated the strength of our forces. We hit back and hard. Driving the insurgents back across the border and beyond. South African soldiers dedicated their lives by hunting ringleaders in their countries. As far as Nigeria we fought. To keep the army mobile, we built roads and bridges. Not