The Colour of Gold (22 page)

"The man at the
RDP house was right." Bala said. "We've got to look at what Lenasia
will become and not what it is now. We've got to find things that
are positive about the situation we're entering."

"Yes, you're
right, my dearest." Fatima said. "One of the things that I got to
thinking about while we travelling back on the train is that the
people in Lenasia at the moment don't have access to a tailor's
shop. I definitely didn't see one while we were there. When we
finally get there and have settled in perhaps we should open a
depot where people can hand in their clothes that they want altered
or repaired and we could take them to the shop and bring them back
when they're fixed. In that way we'll be increasing the number of
our customers."

"That's a
wonderful idea!" Bala exclaimed. "We'll buy a big suitcase and
transport the clothing in it. It's not all that far from
Braamfontein station or even Mayfair station to the Oriental Plaza.
We could even get one of those suitcases that have wheels."

"Also, that
school that we looked at will probably have more up-to-date
facilities and equipment than the older schools in Jo'burg." Fatima
said. "And it will be better if we move to Lenasia before she
starts school. Moving from one school to another can be very
traumatic for a young person."

"That's also
true." Bala said. "And even if the house is a little shoddy to
start with we can improve it as time goes by. And what's also
exciting is that we'll have a garden. That's something that I never
thought we would ever have!"

***

The big white
government truck stopped in front of number twenty one, Nineteenth
Street in Pageview, Johannesburg. A small white government sedan
that Bala recognised as belonging to Mister Viljoen, the government
official responsible for forced removals and the man who had
supervised the removal of Balas' shop's contents to the Oriental
Plaza, pulled into the curb side behind it. Bala stood on the
narrow pavement as the white official approached him.

"So, we meet
again, Mister Desai." the white man said. "I hope that this time
you're going to be more co-operative than you were when we moved
your shop's contents to the Oriental Plaza."

"I won't be
giving you any trouble today, Mister Viljoen." Bala said. "Although
I abhor what you and your government are doing to me and my family,
I realise that it would be futile to resist."

"I'm glad
you've come to your senses." Viljoen said. "The government is far
too big for you to challenge. Now, here are the official documents
authorising me to remove the contents of your house and convey them
to Lenasia. Have you packed all your possessions properly? My men
cannot be held responsible for any damage to your property."

"Yes, we've
packed everything as well as we could." Bala replied. "Apart from
the furniture, everything else is in cardboard boxes."

"Good!" Viljoen
said. "Then we can start right away."

The white
government official beckoned to the waiting black removal crew.
They jumped off the back of the truck and walked to where Viljoen
stood.

"Go into the
house and bring everything out." Viljoen said. "Try not to break
anything."

The men entered
the house and a short while later began emerging with furniture and
cardboard boxes which they loaded onto the back of the truck. They
continued to work until the house was empty. Bala led Viljoen into
the empty house to assure him that everything had been removed.
Fatima and Salona stood in the empty front room. Mister Viljoen
ignored them.

"Okay, let's
go." Viljoen said and left the house.

Bala, Fatima
and Salons followed the white man out of the house.

"It's not
necessary to lock the house." Viljoen said. "The bulldozers will be
here later to flatten the house. You and your wife and child can
ride on the back of the truck with the removal crew.'

The white
official hurried to his car and climbed in.

The removal
crew helped the Indian family onto the back of the truck and
cleared a space so that they could sit with their backs against the
back of the cab. The truck's motor burst into life and it pulled
away from the curb, following the small white sedan. It merged into
the busy Johannesburg traffic and drove South.

The little
Indian family sat in the back of the truck and watched the little
house that they had lived in for less than a year, recede into the
distance.

***

"One of my
informers in Soweto has been keeping an eye on that chap Isaiah
Zuma." Tiaan Botha told Brigadier van Tonder as they stood in the
foyer waiting for the elevator. "My guy thinks that he may have
made contact with an Umkhonto weSizwe operative on Saturday.
Apparently this Zuma chap went to a beer hall in Orlando East and,
although my informant didn't see him make contact with anyone, he
believes that information passed between him and someone else. When
Zuma left the beer hall he wandered around Orlando East for some
time and then went to a house in Malewa street, number one hundred
and twenty three. He remained there for an hour and then left.
What's interesting though, sir, is that Malewa Street is the street
where the car that I booby-trapped blew up."

The Brigadier
raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, that is
interesting." he said as the two men entered the lift. "What do you
want to do now?"

"I'd like to
hit the house as soon as possible, sir." Tiaan replied. "Possibly
even tonight. I'll take two men with me and we'll take out
whoever's in the house. I'm not going to even give them a chance to
surrender. It's too risky, especially in the dark. We'll riddle the
house with AK 47 fire, toss grenades into all four of the rooms and
then get out of there as quickly as possible. Once again the press
are bound to accuse us of assassinating the enemy but they won't be
able to prove anything."

"Okay." the
Brigadier said as they reached his office on the tenth floor. "Go
ahead. Just make sure that the three of you get away safely and
don't leave any evidence of your presence there. We don't need a
scandal of any kind."

***

The three white
men moved silently away from their parked car parked in the buffer
zone between Orlando east and the Consolidated Main Reef Gold Mine
in Roodepoort, west of Johannesburg. They were dressed in dark
camouflage clothing, their heads covered by black balaclavas and
their faces blackened. Each carried an automatic rifle. Quickly
they moved through the undergrowth between the huge blue gum trees
until they reached the first houses in the black suburb. Silently
they moved along the uneven dirt street until they reached Malewa
Street. They huddled together in the darkness beside one of the
houses.

"Number one
twenty three is the eighth house on the left hand side of the
street from here." Tiaan whispered. "Jan, you and I will hit the
house with automatic rifles and Piet, once we've shot up the place,
you move up and toss grenades into all four of the rooms. Then we
get out of there as quickly as possible and go back along the same
route as we used to get here."

The other two
men nodded.

"Okay, let's
go." Tiaan whispered.

The three white
killers moved swiftly along the uneven street counting the houses
as they passed them. When they got to house number one hundred and
twenty three they split up, Tiaan and Jan moving up to the front of
the little house while Piet moved quietly to the back where he
positioned himself so that he could cover the back door and was
also out of the firing line of his companions. As he took out two
of the grenades from the canvas pouch at his side he heard Tiaan
and Jan open fire.

The harsh
clatter of the automatic rifles shattered the silence of the
township. Glass burst and tinkled to the ground. Bullets slammed
into the walls, some of them ricocheting into the darkness. A woman
screamed inside the house and a man began shouting hysterically
only to be cut off abruptly as the bullets found their mark. The
shooting stopped and Piet rushed forward pulling the pins from the
grenades and hurling them through the windows. More glass crashed
and dogs started barking and howling all across the neighbourhood.
Piet tossed grenades through the remaining two windows and sprinted
away. As he started down the dirt street he heard the first two
grenades explode followed almost immediately by the other two. He
glanced overt his shoulder and saw smoke and flames billow out of
the shattered windows.

The three
killers raced along the rutted street as more and more dogs barked
and howled. They reached the buffer zone and quickly made their way
to the vehicle. The engine roared into life and moved off into the
darkness.

Back in Malewa
Street the residents huddled in their little houses, not daring to
investigate the plight of the people in number one hundred and
twenty three. Only Shadow, in house number one hundred and thirty
two, moved quickly in response to the attack. As quickly as he
could he gathered up all his belongings and stuffed them into his
rucksack, wiped a cloth over all the surfaces that he might have
touched during his stay in the little house and, as the incessant
barking of the dogs died down, quietly left the house and
disappeared into the darkness.

***

"What the hell
went wrong?" Brigadier van Tonder said as Tiaan entered his office.
"The press are going mad! They're accusing us of murdering two
innocent people!"

"I'm sorry,
sir." Tiaan said, his face grim. "My informant gave mw the wrong
information. The house we should have hit was number one hundred
and thirty two, not one hundred and twenty three."

"Do you know
who was in one twenty three?" the Brigadier asked.

"Yes. Tiaan
replied. "It was a Mister and Misses Cele. He worked as a cleaner
at Anglo American head office and she worked as a tea girl for a
firm of accountants."

"And what about
the inhabitants of house one hundred and thirty two?" the Brigadier
asked.

"We don't know
who they were." Tiaan replied. "The place was empty and the whole
place wiped clean of prints. The man or men that we should have hit
have escaped. I'm sorry sir. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have
been in such a hurry."

"Well, it's too
late for recriminations now." van Tonder said, shaking his head in
frustration. "The man or men that we wanted are on the loose and
they know we're onto them. It's going to be very difficult to get
them now. But I want them. I don't care how you do it; just find
them and then eliminate them"

CHAPTER 9

"A house in the
street where I was staying in Orlando east was hit by the Security
Police last night and two innocent people were killed." Shadow told
Isaiah as they stood in a small copse of trees in the buffer zone.
"I've no doubt that I was the intended target but the whiteys
obviously got the wrong address."

"What are you
going to do?" Isaiah asked, fear filling his whole body. "If the
Security Police know who you are they'll catch you sooner or
later."

Shadow could
clearly see the fear in Isaiah's eyes. He shook his head.

"I don't think
that they actually know who I am or what I'm doing." he said. "I
think that you were probably followed to the house and whoever
followed you got the number of the house wrong. After all, none of
the houses in that street actually display their numbers. But, I'm
not too worried about my own safety. There are plenty of safe
houses in Soweto and other townships across the country. What
really worries me is that, if you were followed, then the security
police must be aware of you. So, this is going to be our last
face-to-face meeting for some time."

"If the
Security Police are onto me shouldn't I go into hiding?" Isaiah
asked. "Won't they come and arrest me?"

"I don't think
so." Shadow said. "I doubt that they've got much that they can
charge you with. Apart from being a member of the A.N.C. you
haven't done anything illegal. What they'll probably do is watch
you in the hope that you'll lead them to me or some other MK
operative. So it's important that you act normal and don't let them
think that you're aware of their presence."

"Okay." Isaiah
said. "But it's not going to be easy."

"Don't worry
about it." Shadow said. "We know how to handle the situation. Just
be patient and wait for your instructions. We have plenty of ways
of communicating with you."

"What about the
bombs that we were planning to make?" Isaiah asked. "Are we going
to scrap them?"

"Definitely
not." Shadow said. "Here's what I want you to do. Make contact with
that white guy Vodnik and arrange a meeting. Take the photographs
with you and if he tries to get out of dealing with you, show them
to him. He'll quickly come to his senses. While you're waiting for
him to get the parts, come to the beer hall in Orlando east each
evening at six o'clock and have a beer. Wear your red cap with the
feather in it. Then, once you have the parts and have hidden them
safely, come to the beer hall without the feather. There will be an
MK operative at the beer hall every day and as soon as he sees that
there is no feather in your cap we will know that you have the
parts. Then you must wait for us to contact you."

"Where should I
hide the parts?" Isaiah asked.

"I don't know
and I don't want to know where you hide them." Shadow said. "You
must understand that the less we know about what other operatives
are doing the less information we can give the enemy if we are
captured and tortured. We are all human beings and can easily crack
under severe torture. Our enemy is made up of vicious people who
will stop at nothing to protect their hated ideology but no matter
what they do to you, you cannot tell them something that you don't
know."