This eBook was exclusively created for pacesettersnovels.

com
 Chapter 1

Hardly anyone would have suspected that he was a top secret service agent, at least not from the

way he looked, nor even from the way he talked. But, as great minerals may he hidden in

ordinary-looking ground, so intelligence is sometimes hidden behind apparently plain faces.

Colonel Benni Kamba, coded 009 in NISA’s secret service, was waiting outside his hotel

thinking about a nasty accident the previous night in which he saved the life of a girl who was

now in the Nairobi Hospital. He thought about the girl ... how could he guess that that accident

would involve his life with that of the girl’s?

He woke up from his thoughts and his mind hopped from the accident girl to another one - the

one he was waiting for. Not because he had any love dealings with her, but because she, Junis

Walo, held an important position with his employer. He looked at his watch, then stared at it as if

he had found something wrong with it.

"Hei man, it’s getting too late!’ he said to himself. Twenty minutes past one!’

‘Oh, at last!’ He saw an Alfa Romeo coming, one like hers. But no, it wasn’t hers sweeping up

the grand jacaranda avenue.

Benni Kamba and Junis were supposed to lunch together at 12.30. She was to bring to him an

important message from N1SA HQ - a very important message - but where was she? What had

happened to this efficient lady who worked as a secretary for her father? Mr Walo was the

regional boss in charge of East Africa and Mozambique operations. To effect more security in

the service the director of NISA, Dr Triplo, had transferred Junis from the Headquarters to work

for her father. The latest information received at the Headquarters, which Junis was bringing to

1
Benni Kamba, was that NISA itself had become the target of a mercenary operation led by a Dr

Thunder, known to be NISA's greatest enemy.

‘She’s always punctual!' He looked at his watch again. But the beautiful gardens of the Panafric

Hotel didn’t yield Junis . ..

The air smelt fresh and the sky was a perfect blue. On this particular morning there were many

European tourists arriving at the hotel from the coast. You could tell where in Kenya they had

come from. The arrivals from the coast had that raw tan that attracted so many paper-white

Europeans to holiday in beautiful Kenya. They say that Kenya’s beauty and the beaches work

miracles on tourists. The game parks, the Maasais, the Giriama and Akamba dancers and the

artful imitation of Western civilisation that showed in every street of the country gave it a good

reputation. No one who had ever visited or worked in Kenya went back home without wishing to

return.

As Benni Kamba stood waiting there, a European tourist said to a Kenyan, ‘I got very sick when

I arrived at the airport.’

‘Why?’ the Kenyan asked.

T was expecting to land in Africa.’

‘But you landed in India?' he laughed.

‘No. I landed in the European city which you call Nairobi

The Kenyan intellectual looked at him and shrugged his shoulders, sighed and defended coldly,

‘You know what? The British did the rape and what you see now is the bastard.’

2
Benni Kamba noticed that it was now a quarter to two. It seemed that Junis was definitely not

going to come. He returned to his room and dialled the Walo’s number. He waited, but nobody

answered.

‘That’s strange!’ he thought. ‘Not even a servant around?’

He tried another number; but that one was constantly engaged. A number of things went through

his mind. Could Junis have changed her mind at the last minute and flown out with her father to

Cameroon? She could still be coming. She might have fallen sick and gone to see the doctor. She

might have met with an accident.

"Oh, no, not another accident,’ he thought.

He came out of the hotel and walked down the slope towards Kcnyatta Avenue. There were

fewer cars now. Shortly, the traffic would change direction and start flocking back into town

from lunch. Benni Kamba walked a little way down to the road, still hoping to see Junis.

‘I'll take a drive to her house after lunch,’ he thought. The thought of food made him hungry. He

went to lunch, still hoping that she would come. But she didn't come. She didn’t come at all.

While he had been waiting for Junis that day, a big drama had been going on concerning her,

starting in town about ten o’clock.

A particular black 350SEL Benz had been spotted by the police tracking Miss Walo’s Sprint

Alfctta. In the Benz were four people, not counting the driver - three youngish men and a girl.

All four were well dressed. The girl wras all in white - a long pair of trousers, a scarf and a hat.

‘Don’t lose them,’ a police inspector sitting in a taxi told the driver. The taximan tried to pass the

two cars in front, but someone behind them blared on his horn. Only then did the driver

3
recognise the white escort motorbike leading the Presidential motorcade. The President was still

far behind. The policeman on the motorbike zoomed past and stopped the traffic with his white-

gloved hand.

‘Christ, we’ll lose the Benz!’ the inspector cried.

The driver counted six cars in front of them between him and the Benz. He turned to the

inspector. I’ll make it, trust me.’

The President passed, travelling fairly slowly. The traffic started again.

In a taxi following the Benz sat five policemen in plain clothes. They had kept on changing taxis.

This was the third taxi into which they had crammed themselves. Three of them sat on the rear

seal with the inspector and another policeman in the front seat by the driver. One of those on the

rear seat was a big fellow who made the car look rather small. The taxidriver did his best and

brought the car forward, two cars behind the Benz. The policemen were not sure what the Benz

was trying to do. They had followed it mainly because it had been reported as a suspicious

vehicle, but it soon became clear that the Benz itself was tracking a car - the Sprint Alfetta driven

by Miss Walo, although the police didn’t know it. Junis didn’t realise that she was being

followed. With her she had her cousin and his girlfriend, as well as her mother. It was the

Thursday before Easter. The traffic was heavy as people were busy shopping for the holiday.

There were also many cars bringing people to town to watch the start of the famous Safari Rally.

The cars were being flagged off from the Kenyatta

Conference Centre. Junis had brought her mother to town for some important shopping after

seeing Mr Walo off to Cameroon. After the shopping, she intended to take her mother and cousin

back home, then go to the Panafric Hotel to see Benni Kamba. Her cousin and his girlfriend had

4
come for the ride. When they changed into their duty car, the police communicated with HQ and

asked them to find out who owned the Alfetta. They read out the registration number.

The Benz had difficulty in following Miss Walo because the driver behind its wheel had to make

sure that he always kept a few cars in between. Twice they nearly lost her at some traffic lights

because she just made the red. That meant the Ben/ had to wait for the screen light. The driver

roared oil', nearly causing an accident. The policemen followed, ignoring the loud hooting and

cursing of the other drivers. They were anxious to keep the Benz in front with at least two cars

between them.

The girl in white had a pair of binoculars slung round her neck. She kept lifting them to her eyes,

especially when the Afetta went ahead and they were in danger of losing it.

A call from Headquarters informed the police that other officers were stationed in different

positions in the streets. At this particular time the cars were in Standard Street.

Finally, Miss Walo found a parking place, opposite the Blue Kat Hotel, below the City Market.

She and her passengers got out, all sweating. The Benz, which had been four cars behind, now

pulled on to a yellow line and lingered there. Miss Walo led her group into one of the shops.

The policemen had taken up different positions nearby, keeping their distance. On the opposite

side of the street a detective stood by the window of the first floor of the building, filming the

faces of the men. He had just arrived.

Then things began to happen. One of the handsome men found a way of talking to Miss Walo

who was now coming out of the shop. The other two men followed him out of the shop, each in

his own time. Each had his attention focused on the girl while trying to conceal their interest.

5
Unaware of what was in store for her. Miss Walo walked a few paces towards the Ben/ with the

flirtatious man. He had started often by addressing her by her first name, Junis, trying to make

her believe that they had met a number of times at various big functions. There was doubt in

Miss Walo’s face as she tried to recall this face as she talked to him. She dismissed her doubts

for it was possible that she had met him. How could she, in any case, keep in her mind all the

faces she had met in the many social gatherings she attended?

The clever fellow managed to bring her close to the Benz. The girl in white was already seated in

the car. The other two men stood in different places, one at the front of the car leaning on the

bonnet and looking away, yet listening keenly to the conversation The third man was three cars

away, standing still, turning his heels on the pavement, as if he was in deep thought.

‘You’ll have to excuse me please, Mr Lumba,’ Miss Walo told the man, looking at her watch. ‘I

have a thousand and one things to do within a short time.' (The young man had given her his

name as Erasto Lumba.)

‘How does anyone get in touch with you, Junis?’ he asked casually. ‘Would you care for some

lunch today or tomorrow anywhere? Or a drink, whichever pleases you?’ He had successfully

brought her to the rear of the Benz.

‘I’m afraid not this week,’ she swung her head and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, Mr

Lumba.’

‘As you please,’ the young man pulled up his shoulders.

‘How long are you in town?’ Miss Walo asked.

6
At that moment, the driver got out of the car with the keys in his hand and made as if to check on

the rear wheels, glancing at this one then the other one, finally opening the boot, which he

banged shut after a short moment and left without locking up. He went back and switched on the

engine and waited while the third man walked back to the car.

‘I'm a city guy Erasto replied.

Then things happened swiftly. The three men took Miss Walo by surprise: two of them snatched

her while the third man held the boot open. They threw her into the boot and banged the lid

closed quickly. But, as they dived into the car, the policemen gunned one man down. The girl in

white fired back fiercely with an automatic weapon, spraying bullets all round. Three people

were left dead, among them one policeman. The girl leapt into the car which rocketed away,

cutting daringly among other cars in its attempt to escape. A barrage of shots came from the

other two men which stopped any further efforts to shoot them. Many bystanders were wounded

in that climax of horror. Cars banged against each other, some knocking people down dead;

people crashed into each other, each one trying to save his own life. The sound of the shooting,

the screams, the crashing of the cars, all filled the air. The Benz disappeared.

The horror had made Miss Walo's mother fall unconscious as she watched her daughter actually

being kidnapped in the broad light of day. They had been waiting for Junis some yards away.

The incident finally left nine people dead, four of whom had been knocked down by fleeing cars,

and more than fifteen others injured.

While the first gang were kidnapping Miss Walo, another powerful gang had driven to Mr

Walo’s home at Muthaiga, forced their way into the house, first by shooting dead the two guard

7
dogs and then by ordering the two servants, at gunpoint, to remain silent. They blew up the safe,

removed all the valuable documents and then vanished.

At about twenty minutes to one. Miss Thimbu’s Celeste entered the estate and halted

dramatically outside the block. She popped out, wearing a loose silk dress that looked like a

maternity dress. She picked up a bag from the car and banged the door closed with her leg. She

left the car keys in the ignition in her hurry.

Indoors, she removed her shoes and put them into the bag with a white suit and mask. She

changed into another simple dress, put on a tall ornamental headdress, fixed large round earrings

in her ears and put a large pair of specs on, before returning to her Celeste and driving off to

town, passing the site of the shooting. The bodies had been removed and the street was back to

normal except for small groups of people looking at the blood spots and newsmen writing

reports. The TV crew was just leaving the glass-strewn area.

She drove on swiftly, parked the car roughly and carelessly, then came out running. She even

forgot to put money into the parking meter. She walked past three blocks sweating and panting

and went inside a building. There were so many people waiting for the lift that she decided to run

upstairs to the fifth floor. She burst into a large apartment of offices owned by a foreign

investment company. She went through three consecutive doors without, apparently, disturbing

anyone. Nobody even seemed to notice her.

She entered a private room and closed ihe door behind her. She put on the lights and sat down to

get herself relaxed completely first. Ten minutes later, when her heartbeat had slowed down, she

took a pair of earphones, put them on her head, switched on the computer, tapped out some code

8
number on the keyboard and waited, looking at the screen. A response flickered there in greenish

letters. She spoke into the microphone: lCHMA 011/5 EQ SANTACALL. OVER.’

She repeated it again. A voice echoed acknowledgment from a speaker fixed on the wall.

She added: ‘ASSIGNMENTS THREE,

FOUR AND FIVE ACCOMPLISHED. BUT CHMA 113/7272 DISINTEGRATED THREE

HUNDRED AND SIXTY DEGREES. OVER.’

A message came on to the screen, each line disappearing as a new one appeared. She read it and

replied: ‘CHMA, EQ, EDQ. I READ YOU WELL . . . SANTACALL

UNFORTUNATELY NO. PLEASE GIVE COVER. OVER.’

Taking off the ear cans she typed extremely fast on the keyboard, her earrings flying with the

speed. She didn't even stop a second to think. Finally, she tapped the keyboard five times lazily

on different numbers.

She stood up, sighed, then walked out of the room after switching off the computer. She went to

the next office where a white man sat signing papers. She picked up a cigarette from his desk and

stuck it between her soft lips. The man lit it for her. She drew a big cloud of smoke into her lungs

and blew it at the man’s face. He laughed and beat her off.

‘A gentleman, you must bear in your primitive mind, notices ladies,’ she said walking away,

swinging her hips and blowing the smoke to the ceiling.