The Disappeared (38 page)

‘I knew it,’
Duggan shouted. ‘I fuck –’ He stared apologetically at Coetzee. ‘I knew it.’ He
turned to Visser. ‘So tell me, is Lt. Colonel Meyer involved in this?’

‘That is
classified. You are not –’

‘Well, why don’t
you unclassify it ... right away,’ Coetzee said.

Robert John
Visser’s mouth twisted into a little worm of distaste. He stared at Duggan with
eyes heavy with delirium and resentment. And nodded.

Duggan whooped
with delight and punched the air in triumph. ‘I knew it. I knew.’

‘Duggan,’
Coetzee said in reprimand, ‘can we leave the celebrations for later?’

‘Sorry ‘spector.’
Duggan said barely able to conceal his excitement.

‘Mr Visser, I
think you owe us all an explanation. What in God’s name were you people doing
up there?’

Robert John
Visser stared defiantly at those around him. He opened his mouth to speak. Then
hesitated. He bowed his head. And sighed into his lap. Defeat washed over him.
The transformation was sudden ... and complete. He took a few deep breaths,
stabilising his mood. ‘What the hell. It’s not as if the whole world won’t soon
know the truth anyway.’ He looked up. ‘And what are they going to do? Fire me?’
He smirked, showing small uneven teeth. Then sniffed long and hard. ‘Can I have
a cigarette?’ Collie looked at Coetzee uncertainly. The Inspector deliberated
for a while and then nodded. Collie leaned over, unlocked the handcuffs and
slipped them off. Visser rolled his shoulders and rubbed his wrists. ‘Well,
thankee very much.’ He looked around expectantly. ‘Cigarette?’ Collie took out
a packet of cheap cigarettes and took out one for Visser. He hesitated, staring
at the cheap brand in distaste. ‘Well, you know what they say about beggars.’
He neatly flicked the cigarette into his mouth. The hyper energy of a while
back had now transformed into a steady steely arrogance. ‘Well, kiddies, ready
for your bedtime story?’

‘Just get the
bloody hell on with it,
bra
,’ Collie said with mounting irritation.

‘Fine,’ Visser
replied coolly. He turned to Duggan. ‘All kudos to your boy here. He got most
of it right.’ He nodded at Duggan who acknowledged the compliment with a pursed
smile. ‘Well, where to begin?’ Visser held up the cigarette to Collie who grudgingly
lit it, using the same lighter he had used to torture him moments before.
Visser took a deep drag. ‘As we all know, the Apartheid government saw its arse
at the end of the eighties.’ He paused reminiscing. ‘Man, those were the days.’
Several people looked at Thabo and Joyce Mohapi. Thabo shifted uncomfortably. ‘The
de Klerk government destroyed all of its stockpiles and ceased production. A
few years later, on the other side of the Atlantic, George Bush senior signed
the Chemical Weapons Treaty, which committed the US to the destruction of all chemical
weapon agents, dispersal systems and as well as all chemical weapons production
facilities by 2012. And there it would have ended. Except for a bunch of mad
ragheads from the Middle East who flew two planes into the World Trade Centre.’
Visser took a long drag from his cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. ‘We
all know that story by now, right? The invasion of Afghanistan soon followed. And
despite early successes, the Taliban proved to be much more resilient to
American military
overtures
than what was expected. Let me tell you
this, all the military might in the world means little when you’re fighting a
group of scattered zealots, hiding in one of the most extensive networks of
caves on planet earth. Some bright spark at the Pentagon suggested they make
limited use of chemical weapons. I guess it’s not much different to McArthur
wanting to make limited use of nuclear weapons during the Korean War. That’s
the Pentagon for you. Overkill. In the superlative.’ Visser grinned at his own
witticism. ‘So, although the US still had large stockpiles of CW, they needed
something that was, shall we say,
designed
specifically for the terrain.
And this is where South Africa comes into the picture. You see, not only did
the Yanks have major security concerns, but strictly speaking, they weren’t
even supposed to be
thinking
of producing chemical weapons. So they
decided to take the project off-shore.’ He looked pointedly at Duggan. ‘Enter
your old friend ... Lt. Colonel Meyer.’ Visser took another deep drag and,
throwing his head back, blew smoke up at the ceiling. ‘The Yanks were impressed
with the work he had done during the
Project Clear Coast
days. And so,
the new-and-improved
Project Obsidian
was born.’ Visser eyed his
audience. Coetzee almost thought he expected applause.

‘That’s a very
nice history lesson, Visser,’ Coetzee said, ‘but we want to know what happened
at Obsidian to cause the mess we’re in.’ He looked around for support. Several
people nodded. ‘And are we safe?’

Visser sat in
silence for a moment pensive. ‘The Yanks needed a very specific type of
compound. Something that would work in the caves and dungeons of Afghanistan.
It had to be an agent that was highly toxic ... and lethal. Something that
would cause death within seconds ... after only a single inhalation.’ The crowd
that was gathered around Visser stirred. There was a low murmuring and several
whispered conversations. ‘And let me tell you this, ladies and gentlemen, ole
Lt. Colonel Meyer succeeded. Beyond even their wildest expectations.’ He paused
for maximum effect. ‘Our Lt. Colonel produced the most lethal chemical agent in
the history of mankind.’

There was a
stunned silence.

‘Dear God,’
somebody said.

‘How could
something like this happen in Bishop,’ Maureen Sacks asked of no-one in
particular.

Silence.

‘If I didn’t
know any better I would almost say you’re proud of this,’ Mr Jones said with
disdain.

Robert John
Visser ignored the comment and turned to Duggan. The only person in the room
who could truly appreciate what he had to say. ‘What Meyer and his team of
American and South African scientists produced was a true masterpiece. It was a
hybrid chemical agent. Perhaps the first one of its kind. A vesicant combined
with certain properties of a nerve and blood agent. They called it Agent X9.’

‘What does
that mean,’ Mr Sacks asked. ‘A vesicant. And the rest?’

‘A vesicant
causes skin blisters and damages eyes, mucous membranes, the respiratory tract
as well as internal organs. The effects are ultra rapid. While the other
components cause seizures, respiratory failure and cardiac arrest. There’s also
of course involuntary urination and defecation. It’s super vicious.’

‘Oh my God!’
Joyce Mohapi jumped up and ran for the bathrooms disappearing through the
crooked door hanging on its hinges. She didn’t make it. She ended up vomiting
loudly in the corridor outside the MENS and LADIES toilets. Moira discretely
followed her with a mop and bucket.

‘Jesus, man!
Are you some kind of sick fuck?’ Max advanced on Visser. ‘Don’t you know that
people died because of your goddamned
masterpiece
.’

Mr Jones threw
his arm around Max’s chest. ‘Max ... don’t. He’s not worth it.’

‘But ... but
... he –’ To everybody’s surprise Max began crying hysterically. Mr Jones took
him aside and they went to sit in a cubicle in the far corner. Dora Cooper, who
was a friend of the Theron family, joined them.

‘Look here, I
didn’t create the damn thing. And what happened wasn’t my fault. Blaming me won’t
get you anywhere.’

‘You still
haven’t answered my question, Mr Visser. What happened at Obsidian this morning?
And are we safe?’

‘I’m getting
to that Inspector Coetzee.’ He turned to Duggan again. ‘You see the Pentagon
needed a very specific type of compound. So as a result Agent X9 was designed
with an extremely high volatility and consequently, a low persistence.’ Coetzee
looked at Duggan puzzled.

‘It means the erm
... agent dissipates quickly,’ Duggan said. When Coetzee shrugged shaking his
head Duggan continued. ‘Once the gas is dispersed, it disappears rapidly. It
doesn’t stay lethal for very long.’ Coetzee looked at Robert John Visser for
confirmation.

Visser gave
Duggan a mock ovation. ‘One gold star for Mr I.T.,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly
what it does. You see, the Yanks wanted to gas the Tali’s in their hideouts,
kill ‘em all and then move in quickly with no threat to the American troops.’

‘So that’s
good news ... for us, right,’ Mr Sacks said stepping forward. ‘That means the
gas has dissipated by now.’ Visser stared at Mr Sacks but said nothing. ‘That
means if we’re still alive, we should be fine. If the gas hasn’t killed us by
now,’ Mr Sacks said turning to the townspeople around him, ‘then surely that
means ... we’ve made it.’ His words sparked a glimmer of hope on several faces.

‘Why is that,’
Duggan said addressing Visser.

‘Why is what?’

‘Why did the
gas only kill some people? You said this was the world’s most lethal chemical
agent ever. So why aren’t we dead?’

‘I don’t know.
It doesn’t make sense.’ Visser turned to Coetzee. ‘All I know with some degree
of certainty, is that sometime this morning there must have been some kind of
explosion in the production facilities at Obsidian. The equipment is subject to
all sorts of strains and pressures. I’m guessing the explosion happened
somewhere in the degassers, the reactors ... maybe the distillation columns. I
don’t exactly know.’ He paused fixing Coetzee with a cool stare. ‘Does that
answer your question, Inspector?’

‘What I want
to know is, what happened to all the bodies?’ This was from Collie.

‘What do I
look like? CNN? I don’t know!’

‘Gentlemen,’
Coetzee said softly, ‘please.’ He ruminated for a moment. ‘But what about what
Leslie said,’ Coetzee said referring to Mr Sacks’s question. ‘The gas has
disappeared by now, right? And we’re still alive. Does that mean we’re ...
safe?’

‘Look here I
don’t know. Just the fact that there
are
survivors doesn’t make sense.
At all.’ He looked around at the group staring at him. ‘But here we are. So, I
guess, that’s a good thing. If we survived the initial dispersion ... I mean,
there could be structural damage to some of the tanks ... maybe a slow leak.
But .... I don’t think so.’ Visser paused for a long moment looking from face
to face. ‘I think we should be fine.’ Some of the townspeople looked visibly
relieved. More so than they had all day. There were still niggling concerns.
Worries. Unanswered questions. But for now relief was good.

Collie addressed
Visser. ‘So the government’s behind this.’ It was a statement. Not a question.

Visser bowed
his head in frustration. ‘Yes. The government
is
behind this. But it was
an damn accident. No government would intentionally kill its people.’ He looked
pointedly at Collie. ‘That’s just plain absurd.’

‘I’m not so
sure about that,’ Collie said under his breath.

‘But why haven’t
they rescued us?’ This was Maureen Sacks. ‘It’s been hours. Why have they still
not rescued us?’

‘What is this?’
Visser asked his previous aggression beginning to show again. ‘I’m like middle
management over there. You’re treating me as if I have all the answers. I don’t.
I’m in the same position as all of you.’ He looked at Maureen with anger. A
shadow of hurt passed over her face at his harsh words. Coetzee looked at
Visser with disgust.

 ‘But what
about the barricades?’ Jones said. ‘What does it mean? Why would they do it?’

Robert John
Visser hesitated. His eyes darted around. He swallowed hard. ‘I ... I don’t
know. I don’t know.’ He glared at Coetzee. ‘Look, something like this has never
happened before. It’s unprecedented. I don’t know what the protocols are.’ He
sniffed loudly. ‘Maybe it’s .... to keep people out. While they organise a
rescue party.’

‘Tell me
something, Visser. If they’re sending a rescue party ... then why were you so
eager to get out of here?’ Collie sneered as he asked the question.

‘Because I’ve
never waited for anybody to do anything for me,
Collie
.’ Visser matched
Collie in sarcasm. ‘Because I would rather die trying, than sit around and rot
away.

‘So what was
your plan, Robert?’ Coetzee was careful to introduce a conversational tone into
the interrogation. Because it
was
still an interrogation. ‘You obviously
had a plan, right?’

Visser averted
his eyes. A vein pulsated in his neck. ‘I ... there was no plan. I just wanted
to – ’

Collie jumped
forward and slapped Visser through the face. The sound reverberated through the
empty quiet of the restaurant. He grabbed Visser by the throat and squeezed with
all his might. Visser’s eyeballs popped and his face turned an instant red. In
the frenzied desperation of the chokehold, Visser turned a panicked face to
Coetzee. He tried to speak but only a sputtered croak came from his constricted
throat. Coetzee looked on passively. And calmly folded his arms. ‘You’re lying,
you sonofabitch,’ Collie screamed. ‘You’re lying.’ He increased his chokehold. One
of the woman screamed. Several others averted their eyes.

‘Stop that,’
Bridgette screamed.

‘What was your
plan, Visser? What was your plan?’ Collie intensified his grip yet again. A wet
stain sprouted in Visser’s crotch area and quickly spread. Bridgette screamed.
A high pierced shriek that cut like a dagger through the crowd of tense people.

Coetzee felt
his heart jump in his chest. He stepped forward, his composure shattered.
‘Collie ... ’

‘Tell me now!
Tell me now!’ Collie screamed the words into Visser’s purple face. Coetzee was
about to grab Collie and restrain him when Visser began nodding his head. A
vicious, uncontrolled spasm like a dying thing. Collie released his hold.
Visser sucked up a painful gulp of air. His chest heaving violently with each
gasp.