Chapter 4

 

The stranger spotted the six hoods the next day as they drove through in Khosi’s Toyota and parked in the dealer’s usual spot across the playground. Six men because he had counted six heads. Khosi and five others.

The black dealer got out of the car and stood straight, the bandages on his face contrasting starkly against his skin. The five others grouped around him and split after a brief conversation. Two went to the mouth of the street and stood guard. Two more went to the other end of the street and lounged against another vehicle. Khosi and the last man rolled down the car’s windows and set up shop.

None of them spotted the stranger. No one did, for the stranger was at the far end of the playground, behind a huge roll of electric cable. His combat fatigues were earth colored and blended with the ground he was lying on. His binos had anti-reflective lenses, and unless the drug dealers entered the playground and approached him, he wouldn’t be spotted.

He wasn’t surprised at their appearance, nor at the numbers. Goosen couldn’t afford to let one man shut down his operations. A show of force was mandatory. The school’s youth gangs had to be supplied.

The stranger watched them as the school bell rang and Khosi’s usual customers rushed out to buy their quota of high. Azelle came out, followed by Anele. Brother and sister looked at Khosi, uncertainly at each other and at a gesture from her brother, Azelle went inside the school building. Khosi made a loud, crude comment, setting his men off in gales of laughter. Anele stiffened but didn’t look in their direction and went to join his friends.

School resumed, but the dealers still hung around, their comments growing louder and vulgar as time passed. A few teachers poked their heads out and withdrew them quickly when Khosi stuck his middle finger at them. They’ll call the police, who might send a few cruisers, but Goosen’s informers will be one step ahead. The stranger figured the hoods would stick around for an hour, since it would take that long for the police to reach the school.

He was right. Sixty minutes later, the hoods got in the Toyota and after one last curse by Khosi, wheeled out of the street. The SAPS cruiser rolled in just fifteen minutes later and several police officers flooded the school. Too late.

The stranger lay motionless until the police left. He didn’t move when school ended and the students trickled out. Not a muscle on his face flickered when Azelle darted a nervous glance at the street. Her head straightened when she saw no Toyota and the stranger saw her relax and smile.

 

 

He went to Khosi’s shack when it was pitch dark, when no other human but he walked the street. He had surveyed the terrain earlier in the day and knew where every bend in the road was, where every tree and rock were, near the shack. Preparation wasn’t half the battle as the saying went, but it went a long way to winning.

Khosi’s shack was the same as the previous night. Well lit, loud music making a window rattle. He heard a couple of voices from inside and crouched behind an empty vehicle. No movement on the street. Movement from within the house. One shadow crossing a lighted window, then another.

Two men for sure. He was crossing the street when the first spotlight hit him and a man yelled from behind, ‘I’VE GOT HIM. I’M GOING TO CAP HIM.’

The stranger dove out of the light just as the night was ripped apart by automatic fire. He rolled desperately knowing there was a ditch just to his side of the street. He fell in it and lay for a fraction of a second getting his breath back.

Footsteps pounded from within the shack and its door burst open. ‘Where is he?’ Khosi yelled.

‘In that ditch. I told you we should have covered it.’ The speaker let loose another burst and more weapons opened in the stranger’s direction. Loose soil and stone splinters flew in the air and rained on the stranger as he burrowed deep, looking left and right for an escape. There wasn’t one. The ditch was just that. A ditch. Maybe at one point it had been a trench to store rain water, but now it was nothing more than any feature of the land.

It rose and became street-level at either end. It wouldn’t provide him cover for long. Khosi and his men would come charging any moment. It would be all too easy for one or two of them to pin him down, while another appeared from the side and riddled him with holes.

No other option but to go for Plan B. Plan B was a flashbang.

He moved in controlled haste, reaching into his backpack to withdraw a custom handset and goggles, and don them. The last item he removed was a flashbang. He raised his hand and threw it in the direction of Khosi and his men.

It clattered and for a second the world fell silent as the hoods stared at the device. The stranger gripped his Glock and when he heard Khosi scream ‘RUN,’ he opened fire just as the stun grenade exploded and night turned into day.

Quick, short bursts. Magazine empty. Spare Glock leaping across from left hand to right. Another sweep. A snapped head up. Two men down. Khosi limping along with a second man. Both of them struggling. Fast reload. Both Glocks ready.

The stranger rose cautiously and fired into the body mass of the fallen men. Khosi turned at the sound of the shots and raised his gun. He shrieked when the stranger shot his shoulder. The second shooter was faster to react. He aped the stranger’s maneuver, diving away into the darkness, but the stranger was expecting that move. His Glock followed the gangster in an arc, firing a fraction ahead of the escaping man, and heard the distinctive sound of rounds penetrating flesh. The night fell silent again, but for low moaning from Khosi.

‘I told you I would kill you,’ the stranger spoke softly.

‘Sorry, man,’ Khosi begged. ‘It wasn’t my idea–’

The stranger blew his head off and disappeared into the night before Khosi’s body landed.