She wanted to make one thing clear: the operation as planned by the intelligence services did not require the involvement of innocent parties. To be frank, great efforts were made to avoid that. But things had gone wrong. Things that nobody could have foreseen. The operation that had run so smoothly had been derailed. Civilians were drawn in by underhanded methods; an innocent bystander was sucked into the vortex by an evil force, a third party, resulting in tragedy. If she could turn back the clock and change it, she would, but they all knew that was beyond the realm of possibility. A tragedy, because a civilian had died, possibly by her own hand; the motivation, the precise circumstances were not wholly clear, but for the minister that was one civilian too many and she mourned, she could tell them she mourned for that life that had been blotted out. But (a) it had nothing to do with any weapons scandal, of that she was absolutely sure; (b) there would be a complete, official, and rigorous inquiry into the great loss; (c) if there was any responsibility or negligence on the part of any official, they would proceed relentlessly with a disciplinary hearing according to Article 15 of the Intelligence Services Act of 1994 (as amended); and (d) the young dependent would receive the best care available, after ascertaining beyond a doubt whether any relatI'ves existed, and if there were none, the state would fulfill its responsibilities, that was her personal promise, she would stake her entire reputation, her career even, on that.
The minister looked at everyone, and Allison knew she was trying to gauge whether they accepted her explanation.
What would have happened if Pakamile had not been dropped off at the
offices? She knew the answer. It would have been hushed up. Wife and child? What wife and child? We know nothing about that. But there was a righteousness in the minister, a desperation to her honor.
?Madam Minister,? said the editor, the bespectacled, dignified colored man whom Allison greatly respected. ?Let me just say that we are not the monsters politicians always make us out to be.?
?Of course,? said the minister.
?We have sympathy for your role and your position.?
?Thank you.?
?But we do have one small problem. Having now gone on record that these two civilians have gone missing, and in the light of the huge tragedy that is, to some extent at least, public knowledge, if you are going to involve two ladies from the child-care center, we cannot write absolutely nothing.?
is the Zulu word for ?freedom,? and there?s an interesting historical footnote to this code name: apparently, there were constant rumors in the seventies and eighties that a mole of Zulu origin existed in the echelons of the ANC/SA Communist Party Alliance? a mole who allegedly leaked information to both the CIA and the SA apartheid government. As you may know, there was no truth to this rumor. We had no reliable source within the Movement at the time. Although several low-key attempts to acquire one was made, the CIA did not regard it as a high priority, due to the intelligence available through Eastern bloc entities at the time, and the view that the ANC/SACP did not constitute a threat to the USA or NATO.
However, when a code name had to be assigned after the 1996 recruitment, the subject suggested ?Inkululeko? and pointed out the potential disinformation value thereof, as she had no Zulu ties whatsoever, being of European extraction.
The importance of this source multiplied wonderfully in 2000 when she was approached and recruited for the position of operations chief of staff for a newly created governmental agency, the PIU, or Presidential Intelligence Agency We believe the PIU was set up in an effort to counter the never-ending infighting, the legacy of jealousy and politics of the other three arms of the SA intelligence community the National Intelligence Agency, the Secret Service, and Military Intelligence. All PIU staff were drawn from nonintelligence sources, with the sole exception of the director, an ANC and Umkhonto veteran.
2. ORIGIN OF OPERATION SAFEGUARD
In March of this year, a known member of a Cape-based militant Muslim splinter group with suspected ties to al Qaeda and Iranian strongman Ismail Khan was arrested by the SAPS on charges of the illegal possession of firearms.
During interrogation, the suspect, one Ismail Mohammed, indicated that he had information that could be of use to the SA intelligence community, and intended to use this information as plea-bargain leverage.
As luck would have it, a member of the PIU conducted an interview with the suspect. The information regarded the identity of Inkululeko.
Her heart was full when she walked out into the sun and the southeaster. Pakamile was inside, being clucked over by two black ladies from the day care who had taken him to their bosom. The child psychologist, a short dapper white man in his thirties with put-on caring and an inflated idea of his importance, was waiting for his five minutes of fame. The Welfare people with their forms and files knew their place in the hierarchy of bureaucracy and so sat outside on a wooden bench.
Allison Healy walked with her male colleagues down the steps and over the street as Van Heerden once more invaded her thoughts. She said, ?You go ahead,? because she wanted to turn on her cell phone, maybe there was a message. She dawdled as the wind plucked at her dress, punching in her PIN number and waiting for the phone to pick up a signal.
She saw the woman in the gray suit leave the building with the small hunchbacked man.
She looked down at the phone again. YOU HAVE TWO MESSAGES. PLEASE DIAL 121.
Thank goodness. She keyed in the numbers and waited, her brown eyes following the man and woman up Wale Street.
?Hullo, Allison, it?s Rassie. Good articles this morning, well done. Phone me, there are some interesting things. Bye.?
She hurriedly pressed seven.
?Allison, Nic here. I just want to ? I want to see you, Allison. I don'?t want to wait till the weekend. Please. I? miss you. Phone me, please. I know I?m a pain. I talk too much. I?m available tonight. Oh, good work in the paper
