In Pietermaritzburg, it took Du Preez an entire afternoon to find Semler's rented apartment, and then quite a bit of effort to drag him out of the reeking pile of garbage that smelled of alcohol and mold.

Seeing his friend, now a poor, destitute drunkard, Du Preez couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. He shoved Semler into the back seat and drove to Athlone, where he found a motel. Then, he filled the bathtub in the bathroom with cold water and shoved the German's head into it.

This waterboarding-like sobering method was unpleasant, but the effect was immediate. The previously unsteady Semler, after having his head "washed" in the tub, coughed out a few mouthfuls of cold water, then knelt by the toilet and dry heaved for a while, gradually regaining his senses.

Du Preez grabbed a towel from the rack by the sink and forcefully tossed it at the disheveled Semler's face, saying, "If you're not dead yet, clean yourself up before I get back! I've got a job for you in Durban." Then he turned and left the room.

He drove around the area and found a large shopping mall along the N3 highway, where he bought a few sets of replacement clothes, along with two shirts, a pair of casual pants, and a pair of light brown hiking shoes.

When he returned to the motel, Semler was still in the shower. Du Preez placed the purchased items on the floor, then used his phone to call the villa in Durban, telling them that he'd found the person but had a few things to handle, so he'd return the next morning.

Just as he hung up the phone, Semler emerged from the bathroom wearing a bathrobe. He had shaved his stubbly beard and slicked back his previously messy hair, looking much more presentable. After putting on the new clothes, his frame still seemed a bit thin, but compared to the disheveled drunkard from half an hour earlier, he was practically a different person.

Du Preez gave him a once-over, then nodded in satisfaction. The two checked out, drove to the commercial district, and had a steak dinner at a relatively upscale restaurant. After dinner, Du Preez took Semler to a hair salon for a haircut and then found a small but comfortable hotel downtown to spend the night.

Although Keith hadn’t revealed the job details over the phone, both men showed great interest. Mark agreed to set off the next morning, take the train to Brussels, and catch the earliest flight to Durban, some six thousand miles away. Due to having to make two layovers, the earliest he could arrive would be in the afternoon. Jansen also promised to depart as soon as possible but needed to stay in Kenya for another week to finish his handover duties before he could travel.

The day’s work went relatively smoothly. That evening, Deng Shiyang and Keith reported to Harrowby over the phone. The latter informed them that the first funds had been secured in Gibraltar and promised to transfer £20,000 to the Standard Bank account in South Africa as soon as possible.

The next morning, Du Preez and Semler returned to the villa.

Deng Shiyang and Keith conducted an interview in the living room, asking Semler about his experiences with EO during the civil wars in Angola and Sierra Leone, as well as his work in the Congo. Although Du Preez vouched for him, to be safe, they still took down Semler’s full name and passport number to verify with Harrowby.

This show of distrust made Semler uncomfortable. But when Deng Shiyang told him that another member from Belgium would be arriving that afternoon, all his dissatisfaction disappeared in an instant. After all, a one-way ticket from Brussels to Durban cost at least $1,300 — quite a sum. He had secretly speculated the day before that the backer behind this job was quite influential, and now this confirmed his suspicions.

Shortly after lunch, Mark called from Abu Dhabi International Airport, saying that he would arrive in Durban by 4 p.m. Not long after, Harrowby sent Deng Shiyang an email with a detailed resumes of Semler’s career, including his work for EO and Shield Security.

Semler was secretly stunned by this and was glad he hadn’t exaggerated during the interview. At the same time, his curiosity grew like a snowball rolling down a hill, getting bigger and bigger.

That evening, a small welcome party was held in the villa’s dining room to welcome the two new members. Semler felt that this was a signal that he had been accepted and approved to participate.

After drinking a bottle of white wine from Northern Cape, Deng Shiyang said to everyone present, “Our job this time involves planning, organizing, and carrying out a military operation.” He paused and then continued, “The target is a building located inland in Africa. We are to launch a surprise attack, eliminate all the scum inside, and then take over the building.”

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The three men reacted differently. Du Preez, who had already guessed the general outline, remained calm, simply smiling and downing the rest of his wine. Semler muttered something under his breath in German, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Mark didn’t show much surprise either; instead, his face revealed a mix of excitement and eager anticipation.

“This job will take about two months,” Deng Shiyang added. “The preparation phase includes recruitment and training of personnel, as well as the procurement of various supplies.” He paused briefly before adding, “Of course, all of this will be done through legal channels.” Once everyone’s interest was piqued, he continued, “As for compensation, each of you will receive £10,000 as an advance, plus travel and living expenses during the mission, and another £40,000 upon completion.”

“Sounds good,” Mark responded, then asked, “What about insurance?”

Deng Shiyang motioned to Keith, who replied, “Insurance will be maritime insurance, with a coverage limit of up to $500,000. You’ll have to pay the additional premiums yourselves. If anyone meets with an accident, the rest of you will need to testify to the insurance company that he fell into the sea and drowned. If someone is injured, we’ll claim it was due to shifting cargo on the ship. How does that sound?”

“I’m in!” Semler was the first to reply, without hesitation.

Mark glanced at him, then nodded and said, “I’ll join.”

They shook hands, and that settled it.

Keith then began assigning tasks. First, he said to Semler, "We need you to go to Angola, recruit one hundred soldiers, and send them to Botswana for training." He paused, then added, "Find Black soldiers who have been trained by whites, are battle-hardened, and follow orders. Out of the hundred, we need ten to be sergeants. They must have basic conversational English skills to communicate orders and lead the troops in battle."

"I understand your requirements," Semler nodded lightly, then asked, "How much are you planning to pay these people?"

"As for the pay, each soldier will get two thousand dollars, and the sergeants will get five hundred more. All expenses during the training will be covered by us."

Semler furrowed his brow and cautiously said, "Two thousand dollars is no small sum, but the people you're looking for won't come cheap. Also, with so many foreign investors in Angola, locals who speak English are already earning good money. This amount may not be enough to convince them to go to war."

At this point, Deng Shiyang, who had been watching him, asked, "What’s your suggestion?"

As if he had been waiting for this question, Semler immediately replied, "I speak fluent English and Portuguese, so I can relay complex orders myself. We can then just pick a few smart soldiers and teach them some English commands. This would make recruiting easier and save money."

"That could work," Deng Shiyang agreed. "Tell them that if they perform well during those two months, they can get at least a six-month contract afterward, with a salary of no less than fifteen hundred dollars a month."

"That’s much better," Semler nodded. "Compared to Angolan incomes, this kind of money is enough to buy their lives."

"Now that the mission is clear, tell us what you need."

"First, I’ll need communication tools. It’s fine in Luanda, but in remote areas, cell phones might not work. To stay in contact with you, I’ll need a satellite phone."

"No problem," Deng Shiyang nodded. "Anything else?"

"Then there’s the budget. Travel and lodging in Angola will cost around three thousand... no, five thousand dollars..." Halfway through, Semler looked embarrassed and said quietly, "But I don’t have a credit card."

Deng Shiyang exchanged a glance with Keith, who said, "That’s easy. Tomorrow, Du Preez will go with you to Pietermaritzburg to open an account. Your expenses and fees will be transferred to that account." He paused, then added, "You have two weeks. I suggest you leave as soon as possible. Don’t worry about the money; we’ll give you five hundred dollars in cash and traveler's checks worth two thousand dollars. We’ll have the credit card mailed to us here, and as soon as we receive it, we’ll send it to Angola by courier. How does that sound?"

"Very thoughtful," Semler sniffed and let out a barely audible sigh.

"Any other questions?"

"None for now."

"I suggest you go pack and get ready for tomorrow."

Semler nodded, said his goodbyes, and left the kitchen.

Watching the German’s figure disappear down the hallway, Keith turned to Mark and said, "Your job is to find a ship. We need a 'clean' used ship." He paused, emphasizing, "Remember, the ship must have a clean background and complete documentation. It doesn’t need to be fast, but the engines must be reliable and durable; it should be around five thousand tons, ideally a container ship, though a bulk carrier will work if necessary. The ship shouldn’t stand out in appearance, and there shouldn’t be any cranes or other equipment on the deck. It must be able to load cargo at a South African port without attracting attention. The price can’t exceed one million dollars, not including maintenance and upkeep. You have one month to arrange this, and the ship needs to arrive at the Natal Basin in four weeks. We’ll tell you the port where it will dock later."

The Belgian repeated what he had heard silently, then replied, "Considering the journey from Europe to here, a month is tight, but I’ll do my best."

Marc nodded, recalling the phone numbers of a few shipping companies in Ostend.

"Du Preez, do you remember telling me that you knew a guy who used to be with the 32 Battalion? He used to be Nick du Toit’s partner, the one who went solo after Toit got caught."

"I remember, his name’s Johan Schlink," the South African replied without hesitation.

"Can you find him?"

Du Preez scratched his head and said, "I heard he’s running a customs business in Cape Town. I’ll have to call some contacts over there to get the details."

"When you find him, tell him someone wants to buy a batch of weapons and arrange a meeting as soon as possible."

"No problem," Du Preez nodded, then asked with a puzzled look, "Is that all?"

"That’s all for now."