Father Confessor - For the Motherland

Chapter 1

Garikai had intended to take the journey to Harare by road. Not that he had any aversions to travel by air. But riding a bus through the gradually changing landscape from the Botswana border town of Francistown to Hwange on the Zimbabwean side, then onwards to Harare was something he always enjoyed when he had no pressing issues like a time-sensitive mission or an appointment. His last mission was over, the objective accomplished, so, as was his ritual, he wanted to relax and forget about the hair-raising close calls he had survived.

That was the plan. And it was a good one.

That is, until Garikai disembarked the overloaded bus at the main terminus in Francistown and he bent down to tie one of his shoelaces. When he stood up, the first things he saw were a pair of slim, and long legs in high heels. His curious gaze traveled up, following the slightly widening legs and was rewarded to note that they originated from an impossibly short mini-skirt. A bit further upwards, a tapered waist led to a gold studded navel on a smooth and flat stomach. A mini-blouse barely covered the ample chest which threatened to break out of its flimsy confines. The face was incredibly pretty: the large alluring eyes, small nose, full luscious lips and dimpled cheeks. Oh, and the mouth was smiling. At him. Naturally, Garikai felt a hardening and rising interest in the visage before him.

And thus it was inevitable that he woke up the next morning in a small apartment in Donga, one of the high density suburbs in Francistown. Josie was still asleep, her head on his elbow and her body spooned by his. It had been an action filled night. He checked the time. Five-thirty. He had plenty of time before the Harare bound Chihwa bus left the station at ten. Meanwhile, he had other things to do to pass the time.

He was about to cup her breast in his hand when a harsh knock shook the apartment. He frowned and cursed. He felt Josie stiffening as she sat up. Panic filled her lovely face.

"What's the matter?"

"We overslept!" she whispered shakily, as she hurried to put on her clothes. "You have to run. Use the window."

"What are you talking about?" Garikai was confused and annoyed at the same time.

She thrust his satchel and clothes in his hands, trying to push him of the bed. "Run, now."

The door shook under another volley of knocks, followed by a growly voice saying. "Josie? Open up."

Garikai thought the voice sounded familiar. "Who's that?" he asked her, though he had already guessed.

"It's Bragg, my husband."

"Fuck!" Garikai swung off the bed, putting on his boxers and trying to wear his trousers. Something about the name struck him. "You don't mean Bragg Hammer, do you?"

"Yes, that's my husband." She looked him in the eye with a wistful smile. "Last night was great. It was worth everything that's coming. Now you're out of time. Run." Then to his horror, she screamed. "Help! A burglar! Help!"

The door was kicked in just as Garikai leapt through the window, not wanting to experience any of Bragg's famous 'hammer-fists'. Garikai had watched one of the wrestler's fights and knew that if he got caught, a trip to the morgue was not off the table. Super spy or not, Garikai was not going to tempt fate by going hand to hand with a John Cena wannabe on steroids.

He landed on his feet behind the apartment building, his bent knees absorbing the shock of the impact. He limped away, hearing doors opening and loud shouts being exchanged. Fear shot down his spine, energising him. He had to get out of Donga, and quickly. Mob psychology being what it was, if the ghetto dwellers caught him, he would not have time to explain that he was not a burglar or a rapist but a lover who had not known his seductress was Bragg Hammer's wife.