Tracy and Ted had planned to change into their alter identities as soon as they are cleared at customs, but they never get the chance to carry out their plan. As their passports are being checked at separate booths at O. R. Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg, a group of South African policemen, all white, watch the two private investigators intently from a distance. A sixth sense makes Tracy to look their way and an alarm bell goes off in her head. She turns to warn Ted, but when their eyes meet, she realises that Ted has also sensed the danger. She turns to face the official scanning her passport.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am. What’s the purpose of your visit?”
“Tourism. I’m here on a short vacation.”
The official nods understandingly, stamps her passport and returns it to her without any fuss. “Welcome to South Africa.”
“Thank you.”
Tracy leaves customs the same time Ted is cleared. Both immediately meet up as they follow other travellers to the baggage claim section although they have none to claim, having travelled light.
“Reception party, Ted,” whispers Tracy from the corner of her mouth, watching the group of white policemen from the corner of her eyes.
“I saw them, Captain. Can we make it to the toilets?”
“I doubt it. Here they come. Change your time to the Tropics. Now!”
As the group of four policemen approaches them, Tracy and Ted appear to check their wristwatches and innocently adjust them to reflect the South African local time. In reality, they both twist their wristwatches anti-clockwise and a little button, the size of a pin head, protrudes from the right side of the watches, another gift from Delta Force 2. By this time, the four policemen in full uniforms and wearing the appropriate clearance badges approach the duo.
“Excuse me, Sir and Ma’am,” says the officer who appears to be the leader of the team.
“Yes?” says Ted, feigning impatience and ignorance.
“Please follow us.”
Tracy and Ted look at each other, shrug and then follow the policemen. They know it is futile to resist. But if the policemen are those they suspect they are, an opportunity to make a break for it will soon present itself. The men take them to a private room with a back door. Tracy and Ted expect to be interrogated here, but to their surprise, they are marched right through the back door into a corridor that is long and interminable.
“Where are you taking us?” demands Tracy. “Is it a crime to visit your country?”
“Relax, Miss Winters,” says the leader of the group. “We just want a chat with you and this gentleman.”
Tracy and Ted are taken aback by the officer’s casual mention of Tracy’s name. They realise at once that something has gone wrong somewhere and decide to play the game by the ear. In puzzled silence, they follow the officers seemingly meekly. However, they both assess the possibility of having to take down the four men if the need arises. They note that all four are heavily built, each about six feet three. Each also carries a side arm, a pistol holstered to their belts. The flap of the holster is open for easy and quick access to their guns in case their prisoners want to be heady. The four officers appear relaxed, confident in their number, size, weaponry and the fearful respect that police uniforms evoke in normal South Africans. It is obvious that they have never heard of Delta Force 2!
The group arrives at a double-door at the end of the long corridor and the policemen march their captives through it. Trace and Ted have primed themselves for a prolonged interrogation, but are shocked that the door leads not to the interrogation room, but to a side road within the airport. An unmarked Toyota SUV is parked close to the entrance. One of the officers gets behind the wheel, another sits on the passenger seat, Tracy and Ted are crammed into the back seat sandwiched between the two remaining officers. Their hand luggage is simply thrown in the last seat of the car.
The driver puts the car in motion and soon joins the traffic going towards the city of Jo’burg. He rolls up the side glasses and switches on the air conditioner.
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“This is illegal. It’s a kidnap!” suddenly shouts Ted although no one could hear his voice from outside the car.
“Shut up!” shouts the officer beside him, drawing out his pistol from the holster. “One more sound out of your mouth and I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
By this time, the SUV has turned off the main road and heads into a thickly wooded but lonely road about two kilometres from the airport. As the car descends a little hill, Tracy looks at Ted and nods her head imperceptibly. Ted shouts again.
“Help! Help! We’re Americans. We’ve done nothing wrong. We demand to talk to our ambassador!”
He reaches for the door handle and begins to twist it. Commotion erupts in the car as the officers at the back struggle to restrain Ted. In the ensuing melee, Tracy shouts “B!” and hits the button at the side of her wristwatch. She and Ted immediately hold their breath as a dark purplish gas escapes from a perforation at the top of the wristwatch and pervades the inside of the car. In less than a minute the four policemen slump into unconsciousness. Without the driver’s active control, the car slews to the left and runs into the bushes bordering the road. It eventually enters a small ditch and stops. Tracy and Ted force the back doors open and jump out. They run some distance from the car before they dare to take a breath. They flop on the ground and rest for a few minutes. They then run to the SUV and drag the unconscious officers out to a safe distance.
“How did you know they’re not genuine, Captain?”
“They didn’t take us to the police station at the airport, and when they turned off the main road to Jo’burg I knew they were not real policemen. Come, let’s search them and confirm my suspicion.”
They frisk the “officers” and find no identification on any of them, nothing at all to link them to the South African police.
“Suspicion confirmed, Ted.”
“Confirmed, Captain. What’s next?”
“Strip the bastards and leave them trussed up here. They won’t wake up for some seven hours yet. By that time we should be safely out of South Africa.”
Working rapidly, they strip the four men of their clothing, leaving them completely nude. They drag them deeper into the thicket and lie them down behind a big baobab tree. Using their trousers and belts, Tracy and Ted tie up their former kidnappers hands and feet.
“Come on, Ted. Let’s go”
“Just a minute, Captain. What about their guns? We can’t leave them around and can’t take them with us.”
“Bury them!”
Tracy and Ted dig a big hole some distance from the unconscious men. They remove the magazines from the pistols before they throw them in the hole and cover them up with sand. The magazines they throw into a nearby puddle, watching them sink below the surface of the black mud. Afterwards, they get into the car with Ted behind the wheel. Using the auxiliary gear, Ted forces the car out of the ditch and onto the road. He hangs a U-turn and heads the vehicle towards Jo’burg at a sedate pace. The last thing they want is to attract the attention of the real South African police.
***
Vicky is studying law at the University of Johannesburg. As she walks to her private room in a hostel block just outside the main gate of the campus, she notices two men who seem to be lounging aimlessly in front of the central library, but pays no attention to them. Her mind is too preoccupied with two things: the coming examination and the scheduled meeting with the people from the Red Cross. About a week ago, their International Red Cross mother visited her and told her to prepare to receive other visitors from the NGO. The visitors are supposed to meet with her in her room by 4 pm this evening. It is a few minutes past three and Vicky is hurrying to her room to wait for her visitors. As soon as she passes, the two men wearing black three-piece suits and fedora hats looked at each other and nod. They follow Vicky with their eyes until she exits the gate. Then they follow her at a discreet distance. By the time they get out of the gate, Vicky has already entered her building and has gone up to her second-floor apartment, a room with toilet/bath and a kitchenette. She removes her jacket and goes to the fridge to get a bottle of malt. She sits on the double couch in her room, sipping her drink and going over her Property Law lecture notes. Not long after, someone knocks on her door. She gets up to open the door, but a hunch makes her to be more cautious.
“Who’s it?”
“Red Cross, Vicky. Open the door.”
Upon hearing that, Jane reaches out to unlock the door. Again a hunch stops her hand in mid-air. She remembers that the response is supposed to be “Red, Red Cross” and not “Red Cross”. So instead of opening the door, she looks through the peep hole and recognizes the two men loitering in front of the library a little while back. Fear grips her and she double bolts the door from behind.
“Open up, Vicky or we’ll deal with you ruthlessly when we come in,” threatens one of the two men who had been tailing her.
“Go away from me or I’ll call the police,” threatens Vicky. And on impulse she begins to shout, “Help! Help! Help!”
Doors are flung open as ladies rush out of their rooms to investigate the source of the ruckus. The men in black suits panic and bolt down the stairs in confusion. Tracy and Ted in their alter identities are climbing up the stairs slowly. The men in black suit nearly knock them down in their hurry to escape from the scene. The duo walks slowly as befitting their status as senior citizens and Tracy knocks on Jane’s door under the gaze of twenty pairs of curious eyes. Vicky looks through the peep hole and sees the gentleman and his lady. Instead of shouting, she asks,
“Who is it again?”
“Red, Red Cross, Vicky!” answers Tracy.
Vicky heaves a sigh of relief and opens the door for her visitors. Five hours later, Tracy and Ted are on their way to America as scheduled. Both are not only disappointed, but also very worried.