Acknowledgements
This book came to be through the diligence and hard work of my coauthor LucyMangoXX and I. Together we managed to bring out an authentic African spy thriller. Enjoy.
Wonderful cover by MermaidsAndStarfish
BOOK 1
As long as villains exist, the world will need heroes. And not all of the valiant men and women who take the mantle to keep our communities safe wear uniforms. Not all of them receive recognition. They slink in the shadows, remaining faceless.
Elephant Laboratories
20 km west of Harare
Dr Roy Mare fished out a white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed gingerly at his bloodshot eyes. The bathroom mirror unflatteringly highlighted the bags below the eyes. Lack of sleep and advanced age did not do his appearance any favours. Wrinkles around the eyes and mouth made him look older than his actual fifty-five years of age.
He shrugged at the mirror. Who cared what he looked like anyway? It was not like he had anyone to impress with his looks.
A knot of familiar anger wound itself around his gut.
If only the glass-wearing pen-pushing bureaucrat in the Defence Minister’s office had done his job, Mare's wife would have lived. If the bureaucrat had opened his mail and called the minister, she would have gotten treatment early and she would have been with him today. But the man had been too lazy and Mare's wife had succumbed to heart failure while the cardiologist was waiting for the minister's permission to put her on the VIP treatment method...
But he had avenged her. Oh yes. He had made sure the man suffered…
The public address system crackled to life, interrupting the flow of his thoughts.
“Five minutes before closing. Please make your way to the main gate.”
Dr Mare shook his head. The recorded female voice was more appropriate for a primary school than a highly classified research lab.
Putting on his glasses he made his way to one of the two elevators, swiped his security card and pressed the buttons for the main lab, two floors below ground level.
He stared defiantly at the CCTV camera in the elevator before smirking at it.
Foresight is a great thing, he boasted to himself as he stepped out of the elevator and walked a short distance to a stainless steel door, which had a small plastic box with red light set at shoulder height. Dr Mare removed his glasses and slightly leaned forward, aligning his left eye to the led light. The light turned green and the door hissed open.
By the time the door closed again, he was already in the decontamination cubicle, going through the procedure of removing his coat and shoes in preparation for donning protective lab gear: rubber soled boots that reached his calfs, pale blue coveralls, gloves and solid front head gear. All this airtight personal protective equipment made him feel like he was on a trip to the moon instead of a quick dash to the main lab and back. But still protocols are protocols.
He walked along the ample corridor and stopped at the double-doors, punched an eight digit security code into the panel. There was a click and a hiss as the doors rotated open, ushering the scientist into the lab.
A huge shiny silver glass-fronted cabinet stood in the center of the sparky clean room, surrounded by glass work tables with various sealed experiments in progress. He ignored the experiments and touched the handle of a small compartment door on the top shelf of the cabinet. He waited and looked up at the blinking camera atop the cabinet. A click sounded and the glass door opened.
Good for you, Mr Guard, he thought. Wise choice.
He reached in and picked up a unmarked and sealed silver container measuring approximately 25 centimetres high with a diameter of 4 centimetres. He closed the glass door and retraced his steps, a spring in his step and a smile on his craggy features for the security cameras.
In the decontamination zone, where he removed the protective clothing, he tucked the container inside his lab coat and headed for the main gate, where the military guards searched the staff on their way home.
“Doctor.” The senior officer on duty - a sergeant, judging by the three stripes on his shoulders - greeted him, before waving him out.
Dr Mare sighed in relief but was not surprised. As one of the five most senior virologists at the lab, he enjoyed some privileges. One of which apparently was exemption from random frisking on the one evening he walked out with a weapon of mass destruction.
2 days later
The hush hush emergency meeting was held in the president’s private office, on the fourth floor of the State House building. The president and his family used the fourth and fifth floor of the colonial era building as their residence during the president’s term of office.
Four people attended the meeting: the president himself - Comrade Kudzai Musiki; the minister of defence - Claire Mabhutsu; the director of NISA (National Intelligence and Security Agency) Langton Bote and Comrade Lynnette, a NISA female field director.
“So, we have a breach.” The president’s tone was calm and even as he glared at Mabhutsu.
The defense minister visibly swallowed, her gaze lowering as she spoke. “Yes, sir. A container of Ngozi Omega is missing. One of the doctors took it.”
“Director,” the president said to Bote, “how exactly did this happen?”
“Dr Mare, one of the senior virologists who created the N.O. virus blackmailed a Corporal in charge of CCTV cameras and bio security system at the site. That's how he was able to steal the virus without being caught.”
“Where's the virus now?”
Lynnette spoke up. “Mare handed it over to a courier, whom we tracked down to Gaborone, Botswana.”
The president cursed. “Damn it! We can't work on Botswana soil.”
“No, sir,” the director agreed. “Which is why Cde Lynnette is here. With your permission, she will activate an asset we have in Gaborone. He is the kind who can never be traced back to us.”
Cde Musiki nodded and glared at the spy. “Get this mess under control before it's too late.”
8 hours later
Block 10 - Gaborone, Botswana
The incessant ringing of his cellphone finally resurrected Garikai from the depths of his alcohol-induced semi-death. Not daring to open his eyes, he groped across the bed and managed to find the noisy device. He slid a weary thumb across it and brought it to his ear.
“Hello.” Even his voice was weary.
“Are you drunk?” The female voice sounded accusatory.
He didn't care for accusatory females who sounded much like his primary school headmistress.
“Who's this?”
“It's Lynnette.”
Shit! Garikai immediately sat up and just as quickly, he regretted the sudden movement as a splitting headache erupted, which made him groan.
“We need to talk…” Lynnette’s voice continued but he cut it off.
“I'm drunk, comrade, and we don't need to talk!”
He ended the call and switched off his phone. He was not in the mood for any of NISA’s crap. He had a blinding hangover from a wild night out in one of Gaborone's hotspots. A night he fuzzily remembered had ended with him bringing a woman to the apartment.
Garikai clenched his teeth and opened his eyes. The room swam a bit before normalising.
What does she want from me?
It was not like he owed those stuffy suits at NISA anything. Or did he?
He sighed and shrugged as he got up to make a mug of coffee. If Lynnette was serious about wanting him, it wouldn't be long before she tracked him here, even with his cellphone off, and came knocking.