BIKER
It was like a blow to her chest.
?Will you get us a paper, Vincent??
?Yes, ma?am.?
?Quinn, tell Mazibuko the subject is on his way, he must confirm contact with him. Rahjev ??
?Yes, ma?am??
She looked up at the bank of television screens on the wall. ?Put on TV2 for us. And eTV And please ask someone to monitor the radio news.?
?Okay, ma?am.?
The police. She knew the leak came from the police.
Luckily, this thing was almost over.
The helicopter flew low over him, its dark belly scarcely a hundred meters above his head, and then it swooped back behind him and when he looked around he saw there were two of them, side by side, predatory birds biding their time behind him. He could feel the vibrations of their great engines in his body; the adrenaline ran thickly in his veins; the accelerator was fully open, but he knew it was in vain? these things were much faster. A truck came from ahead. The driver with disbelieving eyes nearly swerved in front of him. Why were they hanging back?
The needle was just beyond 200, the cloudbank loomed. Oncoming traffic had windshield wipers and lights on; he began to hope: How deep was this weather? How hard was it raining? Would the helicopters follow him in? He wanted to pass a car, the driver confused by the tremendous noise from above, brake lights? oh God, here?s trouble? he swerved just in time, spray hit the helmet visor? shit? he was going too fast, he saw the rain ahead, a dense curtain, spatter became drops, hard to see, dying to lift a hand and wipe, but at this speed ? A truck in front of him, he couldn'?t maintain this speed, couldn'?t see, he braked, closed the throttle, then the rain hit, sheets, gusts, the drops hard and stinging on his body, the truck?s tires spurting up plumes of mist, he couldn'?t see oncoming cars, slower, slower, at last wiping his visor, just rearranging the water patterns. The rain was harder now, African rain, the lorry moved over, he went down a gear, accelerated, past but not fast, visibility was terrible? what to do?? and then he realized the helicopters? noise was fading, they were no longer with him.
?My name is Immanuel,? he said to Allison Healy ?I?m the shoeshine man.?
She put out her hand to him. ?Hullo, Immanuel.?
?I get the
?I understand,? she said patiently.
?So this morning I read about Thobela.?
?Mpayipheli??
?He is my friend. And the things you wrote about him are not right.?
?What do you mean??
?He is not a ?big, bad biker.? ?
?Uh ? It?s just a way of writing, Immanuel.?
?But it?s not true. He?s a good man. He?s a war veteran.?
A veteran??
?That?s right. He was a soldier in the Struggle. He fought in lands far away. Russia and Germany.?
?MK??
?He fought for all of us.?
?You say he was an MK fighter?? This was news. Big news.
Immanuel just nodded.
?Why did he steal the motorcycle??
?That?s not true. Thobela doesn'?t steal.?
?How do you know, Immanuel??
?I know him. He?s my friend. We talk, three, four times a week. He is an honest man. A family man.?
?He has a family??
?It?s the most important thing in his life. Why would he steal??
?Where can I find his family??
?It?s impossible. Ops Control, visibility is too poor. Heavy turbulence. We have to turn back. Over.? Static crackled on the radio connection, the voice breaking up.
Quinn looked to Janina Mentz. She shook her head; he translated: ?NegatI've, Rooivalk One, stay with him. Over.?
?Ops Control, visibility is zero. We don'?t know where ?with him? is. We don'?t even have visual contact with each other. These are nonoperational conditions. Over.?
He looked at Janina. She stood with folded arms, her lips thin. ?How many million rand did it cost to develop
