Night of the Black Bastards (An Action-Packed Thriller) (21 page)

“Howzit Steven, let me see, boet.”

The men entered the range and Akmal, who was also the official Range Officer, carefully opened the Vector box and produced the weapon. He placed the ammunition, box and nine millimetre on a table at the first firing position and had a quick look at it and checked the mechanisms as best he could without fully dismantling it and asked the men to put on their hearing and eye protection.

“It looks okay at first glance but the only way to test the thing is to fire it. Steve if you would.”

Dlamini loaded the magazine with fifteen rounds as per instructions from Night and placed it back on the table adjacent to the weapon and stepped back on to the line.  He was so obviously still a rookie and used to taking commands on when to load and fire.

“On my command Dlamini I want you to step forward and load your magazine and then engage the centre mass of your target with fifteen rounds. In your own time. Proceed.”

Dlamini stepped forward, picked up the magazine loaded it into his weapon cocked the gun, aimed at his target and fired. Click! Nothing happened.

“Take the safety off you numbskull!” commanded Night.

A typical rook blunder. Akmal laughed.

“Fuck! Sorry. You are making me nervous standing there like that. Fuck!” said a highly embarrassed Dlamini.

“And how the hell do you think you will feel when some asshole is shooting at you Dlamini?. Again. Go!”

Dlamini removed his right hand from his weapon and flicked the safety catch off to the upward position.

“Next time Dlamini use your left gripping hand and thumb the safety off, as you were taught in college.”

Dlamini prepared himself once more, now looking flustered, took aim and a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. Click! Again, nothing happened. A failure to fire.

“Now what Dlamini?”

“It jammed Sergeant, a misfire.”

“So what the fuck do you do, don’t just stand there boy, tell me what do you do?!”

“Umm, I tap and rack, I tap and rack Sarge, tap and rack!”

“So then do it Dlamini, don’t just talk about it, do it!”

Tap and rack is the universally accepted method of fixing a failure to fire on a semi-automatic handgun. You tap the bottom of the magazine to make sure that it is properly inserted and seated within the magazine well and rack the slide of the weapon to eject any caught or faulty round and insert a replacement bullet. Dlamini carried out the procedure well. He took aim and pulled the trigger once more. Click, another failure to fire.

“Do you mind if I have a look Sergeant?” asked the gunsmith.

“Please do” said Night.

Akmal took the weapon from Dlamini and ejected the magazine and the round in the chamber which he examined.

“No dimple on the rounds casing.” said Akmal “It could be the firing pin, sometimes they are damaged during packaging and transport.”

Akmal reloaded the weapon with a fresh single round by placing the bullet directly into the chamber without the use of the magazine and squeezed the trigger. Again the weapon did not fire.

“It must be the firing pin. Not to worry though China I have a few spares in my workshop . They arrived last week. I also have a quick and easy test to verify the problem.”

Akmal made the weapon safe and produced a pen from his pocket which he promptly placed backwards down the barrel of Dlamini’s firearm. He pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

“Yip, it’s the firing pin. I’ll have it sorted out for you in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll meet you out front in the shop when I’m done. All right okes?” Akmal left the range and went to labour in his workshop.

“Thanks Akmal” said Night.

“What was that thing with the pen Sarge?”

Night produced his Vector, ejected the magazine and pulled back the slide ejecting the round in the chamber which he caught in a smooth single movement. He took his pen and put it into the barrel and aimed slightly upwards and squeezed the trigger. The pen flew into the air and onto the floor. Night then pulled the slide back and held it in position. He showed Dlamini the firing pin at the base of the slide in front of the hammer.

“See, the pin comes forward ever so slightly after the hammer hits it. That’s what makes impact with primer and causes the explosion that ejects the bullet head out of the casing and down the barrel. It also strikes the pen and sends it flying. Yours however is broken” said Night.

“Good thing we tested it then, hey Sarge.”

“Indeed Dlamini, that’s why we first field test any new weapon before booking on duty or going operational. And believe it or not it’s good this happened to you now. With your first weapon and on your very first shift. You will never take any of your weapons for granted and you will never forget this lesson. Lucky for us though that Akmal has spare Vector firing pins or else you would have to call it a day and head to the charge office.”

“That’s because I am blessed like that Sarge, see, I am just a naturally lucky guy!”

“That’s good Dlamini. As a cop you are going to need all the luck you can get.” 

Twenty five minutes later the Black Bastards and their student were in the Beast and about to Zero One (official police code meaning to book on duty on the police radio network). They had left Dave Sheer Guns considerably poorer than when they had initially entered the range.  Although the shop’s manager Gareth had refused to accept payment for the range time or Vector Z88 firing pin and replacement and had given them the policemen’s discount on all the items purchased their wallets were still considerably lighter.

While waiting for Dlamini to test his new weapon Stanislov had purchased an innovative Syderco FB08 S.P.O.T (Self Protection Option Tool) Neck Knife, a small tactical knife that hangs around an operator’s neck in a neat little holster, handy for quick access in difficult situations. Nickolai had had his eye on the piece for a while and was an avid knife collector with the majority of his tactical knives being from the CRKT (Columbia River Knife and Tool) stable.  His personal favourite was a CRKT Special Forces 1* knife designed specifically for law enforcement and military special forces personnel, by Gary Paul Johnston.  Night gave it to him as a birthday present two years earlier. The 1* logo imprinted on the knife serves as a reminder to the operator using it: one-ass-to-risk.

Shaka too had decided on purchasing a new blade, although his choice was a little bigger. He had opted for a Samurai sword replica made by a local manufacturer – Gareth had given it to him at cost price and warned that it was not of a high quality standard.  That didn’t bother Shaka much, it was large, sharp enough and deadly, if only for one use – perfect for cutting off an enemy’s head he had said. Night thought he knew whose cranium Shaka had in mind.

Night had also not escaped the temptation to buy some gear and had purchased a tactical handheld flashlight with a modern style LED bulb from Surefire. It delivers an impressive 500 lumens of light and a tactical strobe, perfect for disorientating and temporarily blinding criminal suspects while on police duty and attackers attempting to injure his clients while on a CP assignment.

“All right gentlemen let’s zero one.” said Night.

“Um, shouldn’t we wait a bit Mike?” asked Shaka.

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear? There was a 55 Bravo in Melrose that Control was trying to assign. Nobody was answering.”

“Well of course nobody was answering, who the hell wants to deal with a 55 Bravo. How long ago was that?”

“When we left the station about 45 minutes ago.”

“Well no worries then Control should have been able to assign one of our vehicles to deal with it by now, we have four other Norwood units on duty today.”

“Just to be extra sure let’s just fill up the petrol tank and check the vehicle before we book on air hey Mike, just in case.” said Stanislov.

“What the hell is a 55 Bravo guys?” asked Dlamini.

The Black Bastards ignored the student and went to the local petrol station to fill up the Beast.  Ten minutes later and the petrol tank was full, oil and water levels checked and tyre pressure correct and the Beast was ready for action.

“All right gents I’m booking on” said Night. “It’s been an hour since the call first came through, Control must have taken care of it by now. I’m sure the duty detective is even on scene by now, nothing more has come on air about it has it?”

“No, channel 26 has been quiet since we left Dave Sheer. Anyway, isn’t Lisa on duty at Control today Mike?” asked Shaka.

“Yeah but she’s working 28 today. On 26 from tomorrow, I told her we were training a rook this week so I asked her if she would take channel 26 for us and give us all the juicy calls. So from tomorrow. Just in case I am going to wait a couple more minutes.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Black Bastards were on patrol driving down Louis Botha Avenue in Highlands North. They were surrounded by dozens of civilian vehicles, mainly mini bus taxis. The mini bus taxi industry in South Africa is a multibillion Rand business and the taxis carry over 60% of South Africa’s commuters. Generally the passengers of these minibus taxis, known to most white South Africans as “Black Taxis”, cater for the poorer black citizens of the country. People who can afford to, mostly whites, drive their own private vehicles and would never consider riding in a minibus taxi. The most common type of minibus taxi is the 16-seater kombi bus, although designed for a maximum of 16 passengers it was a regular occurrence to see these kombis heavily overloaded with more than 20 people.

The Black Bastards had once pulled an unroadworthy taxi off the road and unloaded the occupants- they counted 28 passengers in the vehicle that day including two infants. And instead of a proper gear lever to change gears there was a wrench in its place, the steering wheel had been replaced by a bicycle tyre frame and steel pole.  Most taxis on the road in South Africa are almost certainly not roadworthy.

The taxi drivers are ultra-aggressive and flagrantly disobey the law. They hoot incessantly trying to attract customers standing or walking at the side of the road and bully the smaller private vehicles on the road - often off it - and driving in a way that would lead to a jail sentence in most European countries. And due to an effectively unregulated market and the fierceness of competition for passengers and lucrative routes, taxi operators band together to form associations. These associations are more like mafia organisations and have been raging a bloody taxi war since the late 1980s, often hiring professional hit men to assassinate rival operators and often engaging in all out gang warfare, AK47 against AK47. They only occasionally behave themselves and observe the rules of the road when a police vehicle is near or within eyesight. The Beast was well known to many of the local taxi drivers in the area and the majority of them waved, or saluted Night and his crew as they drove by.

“Sho, sho, sho, that’s amazing hey!” said Dlamini.

“What is amazing Dlamini?” asked Stanislov.

“That the taxi drivers are driving normally when we are near and some of them are even saluting or saying hello, sho, sho, sho, ay man it is cool being a cop hey? Even the baddest gangsters in SA respect us!”

“Yeah right Dlamini. Absolutely. You’ll learn” said Stanislov.

Sergeant Night picked up the radio. “Control November Whisky 50 Zero One.”

“Go ahead November Whisky 50.”

“Thank you Control. Driver, Constable Daniel Shaka, Force Number, Three, Two, Seven, Nine, Zero, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven.  I repeat Three, Two, Seven, Nine, Zero, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven. Crew, Sergeant Michael Night, Force Number Two, One, Seven, Nine, Six, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven. I repeat Two, One, Seven, Nine, Six, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven.  Second Crew, Constable Nickolai Stanislov, Force Number Zero, Eight, Seven, Nine, Six, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven. I repeat Zero, Eight, Seven, Nine, Six, Three, Zero, Dash, Seven. We also have Student Constable Steven Dlamini with us for field training. We are doing Norwood All Sectors, that’s sectors One, Two, Three and Four.  We will be performing Crime Prevention duties, Alpha Complaints Only. So received Control?”

“Ja, just give me the Driver’s Force Number again please?”

“Roger that Control.” He repeated the numbers. “So received Control?”

“All right thanks November Whisky 50. So received.”

“Why do they always want the driver’s force number again, it’s like they don’t listen until they realise they have missed a number” said Shaka.

The police radio surged into life once more as Night put the transmitter back in its cradle.

“November Whisky 50 come in for Control.”

“Shit, sounds like a nomination complaint. I sure hope it’s not that 55 Bravo” said Shaka.

“November Whisky 50 come in for Control.”

“Ah shit, well he knows we’re here now. I have to answer.” said Night “Ya, go ahead Control, send for November Whisky 50.”

“Thank you November Whisky 50. I have a complaint for you. Can I go ahead?”

“That depends Control. We are a reaction vehicle, Alpha Complaints only Control.” said Night.

“Well I have an outstanding Bravo and I have had it on my screen for over an hour and I need someone to take care of it for me.”

“It must be the 55.” said Stanislov.

“Sorry Control, we don’t do Bravos. Can’t you give it to any of the other vehicles, there are four other November Whisky vehicles on duty today Control.”

“Yes and they are all booked on duty with me but I haven’t heard from any of them since this Bravo came through and I asked for a vehicle to attend to it.”

“What the shit is a 55 Bravo!?” asked Dlamini.

“Mike don’t make us go there, it will screw up the boy’s first shift, we will be there all day if it’s positive” said Shaka.

“November Whisky 50 did you copy my last?”

“Yeah I know Zulu, I don’t want to attend to a damn 55 either but it looks like we are going to have to” said Night.

“At least we will be able to give the boy his first test. We can see how he reacts, you know” said Stanislov.

“November Whisky 50 come in for Control.”