Reaper was feeling very uneasy. It had been over an hour since he had heard from either Pieter or Tom. For this mission to be successful, he had to have both Tom and Lela in his possession. Without them, he seriously doubted whether Donald would do what was required when the time came. With his son and surrogate daughter in a room with a knife to their throats, he knew that he would do whatever they asked.
His phone rang. It was not Pieter but Tom.
“Oh my God, it’s a disaster, they’ve all gone,” said Tom almost crying on the phone.
“What’s happened?” Reaper said.
“The soldiers, they snuck behind us and they had a fight with your men.”
“What happened, where are my men?”
“I don’t know. There was a huge battle and Lela and I just got out of there in time. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“OK, where are you now?” Reaper didn’t know what to do. If he didn’t get the kids, his plan and his life were over.
“We’re in the main terminal. There are lots of people here and hopefully nobody will find us.”
“Wait there. I’ll try to get hold of my man on the ground,” said Reaper.
As he went to make his call, a breaking news story came on TV.
“Violence in Johannesburg International Airport leaves fifteen dead. A gang war erupted this evening in a baggage hall at South Africa’s largest and busiest airport. The information we have is sketchy but it appears that the authorities are unsure about what caused the dispute or how the rival gang members managed to clash in a secure area of the airport. What is clear is that at least fifteen men are dead and at least one other seriously injured. The injured man is unconscious and the authorities do not expect him to regain consciousness for some time. They do not know who the injured man is but have released a description of him in the hope that if anybody knows him, they may be able to help the police with their enquiries. He is a large man, six foot four inches and weighs around 250lbs. He has blonde hair, a distinctive scar across his right eye and a tattoo on his right forearm of a lion roaring. Anybody recognising this man is asked to come forward and help police with their enquiries. Back to our main story. The hostage crisis…”
The news broadcast had just described Pieter. He had ten men with him and Tom had told him there were five soldiers, that was fifteen men in total, fifteen were dead and Pieter was unconscious. What the hell had happened, these bloody kids were a death magnet and very bad news.
Reaper went back to Tom, who was holding on the line.
“I’ve just watched a breaking news story. It appears everybody is dead,” he said coldly. “Now that leaves me with a problem, I need you two back here. I have some other men who should have arrived just after you.”
“Oh God, that must have been the helicopter that ran out of fuel a miles and a half from here. There was a helicopter crash not long ago. If they were in the same chopper as us, I’m not surprised, we landed on fumes.”
“WHAT!” Reaper could not believe how such a simple thing, picking up two young kids, could cause such devastation. So far, over thirty men had died trying to capture Tom and Lela and at least twenty five of them were highly trained and skilled operatives.
Tom had to pinch himself to stop laughing, the man was apoplectic with rage. Tom’s plan had worked perfectly. He would ring Paula later to thank her. Her parents owned the largest media group in South Africa and she had managed to release the fastest press report in history. The release was perfect. The fact that nobody had died in reality and that the mercenaries were enduring a rather unpleasant stay in South Africa, courtesy of Rolf’s father, was neither here nor there.
Reaper calmed down. “I will make this simple. If you’re not at the gates of your house within the next twelve hours, your mother dies.”
“Well you better just kill her now,” said Tom.
“WHAT?” This kid was really getting to him. He was really going to enjoy killing him.
“We’re about 6,000 miles away from you. Even if we boarded a plane now, which we can’t, we could not get there in 12 hours.”
“So when can you be here?” Reaper said almost giving up.
“We have no passports. That’s a major hurdle and we have missed the last flight tonight. The BA flight left at 9.20 p.m. and it’s now 9.30 p.m. local time…”
“So when can you be here, just answer the question!” Reaper was fuming.
“There is an Albair flight tomorrow afternoon at 5.00 p.m. that would get us into Glasgow at 2.30 a.m.”
“What!! That is over 24 hours away. You must be able to do better than that. I’ll call you back.” Reaper hung up and turned to his communications man. “Find me the quickest route from Johannesburg to Glasgow from now.”
Two minutes later, he phoned Tom back.
“There is a flight in three hours via Nairobi. That will get you here tomorrow evening,” announced Reaper.
“And what do you want us to do about not having passports. Tell them that, due to a hostage situation, we were unable to travel with our passports so please let us on or they’ll kill our parents?” Tom replied sarcastically.
Reaper did not say anything. He walked into the lounge and nodded to Leo who slapped Rachel hard across the face. She screamed.
Tom froze, realising what had just happened.
Saki almost tore the arm off of his armchair as he restrained himself from protecting Rachel. Donald looked at Saki and pleaded with his eyes for him not to move.
Walking back into the kitchen, Reaper continued.
“Less attitude young man, remember the position your parents are in. Yes it’s not ideal for you to try to board a plane without a passport. How are you going to cover it?”
“We can go to the High commission in Pretoria in the morning and get a letter which will get us on the plane and home without causing a fuss.”
“OK, good thinking…if you land at 2.30 a.m., my men will be waiting to get you at the airport.”
“OK but just so you know, we’re very well known at the airport and if someone strange picks us up, it will send alarm bells ringing.”
“After you touch down, I’ll give you exactly one hour to get to the gates. If you have not arrived we’ll kill your mother. Do you understand Tom? Your parents are depending on you.”
“I understand.”
“Where are you going now?” asked Reaper.
“We can go to the hotel next door. I’ve made reservations and we just need to pick up the key. We’ll make the short trip to Pretoria and be back here in plenty of time for the flight.”
“Be careful and remember, I have eyes and ears everywhere.” Reaper ended the call.
“Phew, it worked, he bought it, everything, even the passports…I just hope he doesn’t check with the High Commission, it’s not open on Sundays,” said Tom.
“What next?” asked Kisho.
“We wait for Benoit to do his magic.”
“And if they can’t?” asked Lela.
“We steal it!”
Reaper’s phone rang. He had been dreading the call. He answered and held the phone away from his ear as a two minute tirade of abuse exploded through the earpiece.
“It’s under control. They’re on their way back and will be here tomorrow night.”
“What, under their own steam? I thought you were the best?! You underestimated two teenagers and they’re now playing you for a fool,” screamed the client.
“I have nobody else on site. They’re all dead. Two teenagers didn’t kill twenty five men. We’ve had some bad luck but they’re scared and are scurrying back to save mummy and daddy.”
“You had better hope so or your time on this planet is running out.”
The call ended, no pleasantries.