Amie- Savage Safari Read online

  AMIE

  SAVAGE SAFARI

  LUCINDA E CLARKE

  AMIE: Savage Safari

  Copyright © 2019 Lucinda E Clarke

  Umhlanga Press

  All Rights Reserved

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the cases of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  All characters, locations and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover art and design by Daz Smith

  [email protected]

  http://www.nethed.com/book-covers/

  Editors: Prof Richard Butler – Dave Cantrell – Jo Holloway

  This story is for all my friends who have loved Africa and the captivating beauty of its people and its wildlife; and to those wonderful readers who have supported Amie and me on her continuing adventures.

  Also by Lucinda E Clarke

  FICTION

  Amie – an African Adventure

  Amie and the Child of Africa

  Amie Stolen Future

  Amie Cut for Life

  Samantha (Amie backstories)

  Ben (Amie backstories)

  MEMOIRS

  Walking over Eggshells

  Truth, Lies and Propaganda

  More Truth, Lies and Propaganda

  The very Worst riding School in the World

  HUMOUR

  Unhappily Ever After

  CONTENTS

  1 HOME INVASION

  2 SIMON LANDS IN LONDON

  3 MATHILDA

  4 RETURN TO TOGODO

  5 OPERATIVE TRAINING

  6 TANYA

  7 THE CABINET MEETING

  8 CROSS COUNTRY

  9 AMIE IS TRAPPED

  10 DISCUSSION IN A LONDON CLUB

  11 THE COCKTAIL PARTY

  12 SIMON’S BID TO ESCAPE

  13 THE RUSSIAN EMBASSY

  14 COFFEE WITH BEN

  15 COFFEE AT THE GRAND HOTEL

  16 THE WELSH FARMHOUSE

  17 AMIE MEETS GAGA

  18 PLANNING THE SAFARI

  19 LANDMINE

  20 THE UNITED STATES EMBASSY

  21 AMIE’S INSTRUCTIONS

  22 SIMON UNDER ARREST

  23 AMIE AND BEN

  24 OUMA ADEDE’S WARNING

  25 SIMON’S BRIEF

  26 GAGA’S STORY

  27 SIMON FLIES SOUTH

  28 ZEEBEE

  29 ONE OFFER AFTER ANOTHER

  30 THE FIRST ATTACK

  31 AFTERMATH

  32 SIMON MEETS LUCKY

  33 SNAKEBITE

  34 THE CHINESE DELEGATION

  35 SECOND ATTACK

  36 THE LUEBOS VILLAGE

  37 PLANS TO ESCAPE

  38 AMIE’S JOURNEY

  39 THE PRISONER

  40 AMIE IN TROUBLE

  41 INERTIA

  42 HYENAS

  43 A LOCAL AFFAIR

  44 NGONICANSAGA

  45 INDECISION

  46 SIMON SIDELINED

  47 NGONI’S STORY

  48 COUNTER ATTACK

  49 THE DESERTED BOMA

  50 BEN BEWITCHED

  51 AT THE MERCY OF CHILDREN

  52 AMIE IN TROUBLE

  53 RETURN TO APATU

  54 DEBRIEFING

  55 CHAOS AT THE PALACE

  56 DESTRUCTION OF THE HALL OF MIRRORS

  57 LAST DAYS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To my Readers

  Also by Lucinda E Clarke

  Reviews

  1 HOME INVASION

  “Eouww, hold her still!” the heavy-set, black woman shrieked at the two older girls who were battling to pin down the struggling child. The victim was no more than seven years old, and her limbs were flailing and kicking against the women who were about to mutilate her body without benefit of anaesthetic or antiseptic. The parts of the knife that were not rusty glinted in the sunlight as the butchery began. Shrill screams punctuated the air as the blunt steel tore into her private parts. The procedure ensured that she would never enjoy sex and therefore would be faithful to the man who was going to buy her the next day. She was just another female whose young body was up for sale to the highest bidder after enduring the excruciating pain of having her clitoris sliced away.

  Amie jumped as a hand touched her shoulder, snapping her out of the nightmare she fell into whenever she closed her eyes, or let her mind wander. It was weeks since she’d attempted to rescue a party of little girls from such a fate, but the grotesque images still flashed before her eyes. She had seen some terrible things at the hands of both women and men and didn’t know if the horrors and cruelty she’d witnessed would ever leave her.

  One of her co-workers in the office was leaning over her desk.

  “You have a visitor. He’s waiting in the boardroom and he’s very impatient. Said to get you immediately.”

  Amie had no idea who would be visiting her at work. Her cell phone buzzed and she glanced at the text briefly. It was from Simon. Just landed in London. Wish you were here. Missing you. xxx.

  As Amie approached the boardroom, the door flung open as the security officer, with a sweeping device in his hand, came out. “All clear, I don’t know who he is but he’s in a foul mood.” He loped along the corridor and disappeared into the main office.

  “Come in Felicity. Don’t loiter in the doorway.”

  She groaned. She hated the name Felicity. Some faceless person in some faceless London building in the bowels of the Secret Service had decided it was the perfect name for a spy. No one of course had thought to consult her for her opinion or choice.

  “Felicity.”

  Amie snapped out of her musing and came face to face with Ian Fleming. What was he doing in Durban, South Africa?

  “Sit down.”

  The words were terse and for a moment Amie wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. The last time she saw Ian, he was in Apatu, the capital city of Togodo miles to the north, where he’d been charming and friendly. Today, his whole demeanour was quite the opposite. His balding head with its thin wisps of fair hair framed a round, chubby face with dark piercing eyes. His lips were thin, and he was running to fat where his stomach was hanging over his belt. Amie couldn’t imagine anything further from the James Bond of an earlier Ian Fleming, or a more unlikely name for a real spy.

  Her Majesty’s portrait stared down on Amie as she slid into a seat halfway along the highly-polished boardroom table, but Ian Fleming shook his head and pointed to the chair closest to him.

  “We have another job for you.”

  “Look, Ian, I’m sorry but I’m quite happy where I am. I’ll work for Her Majesty’s government here in Durban for as long as you want me. However …”

  “I don’t think you quite understand Amie. We own you, we decide where you will and will not go, and we decide what you will do and will not do.”

  A rush of anger coursed through her. She stood and began pacing across the green carpet. “No! No! No! I’ve put myself into danger, fought to survive, slogged miles across Africa, lost a husband, tried to rescue children from female genital mutilation and I’ve even killed people. I’ve had enough. I want an ordinary life with marriage, kids and school runs, the whole works. I’m done being a spy. I never know who I can trust, so I trust nobody. I mix with people I don’t like, and get into things that I don’t want.” Amie ran out of steam and slumped back into her chair, head in hands on the table.

  Ian Fleming didn’t flinch. He sat still for several minutes not uttering a word, not moving a muscle. He picked at
an imaginary piece of lint on his trousers, re-crossed his legs, sat up and leaned forward. When he spoke the tone of his voice sent chills down Amie’s spine.

  “I’m sure we both agree on one thing. You’re not a good spy.”

  Amie jumped in quickly. “Exactly, so there’s no point in using me. I’ll just continue as normal.”

  “Life will never be normal for you again, Amie-Felicity. You’re way beyond that point.”

  “Nonsense. I’m sure the great British Institution of SIS won’t miss one small, bad spy.”

  Ian’s smile sent more shivers down her spine. “Frankly, none of us expected you to last this long. You were on the expendable list right from the beginning. Come on Amie, you didn’t really think that a very basic six months’ training in Scotland, with no preliminary aptitude tests, would give you all the tools necessary to be a proper spy?”

  Amie thought this very unfair. She had uncovered a double agent that no one else in the Service had even suspected.

  “No, I’m sorry my dear,” Ian continued, “you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. I’m afraid we’re stuck with each other and that’s all there is to say on the matter.”

  “Let’s be reasonable here, Ian. You can’t possibly force me to do something I don’t want to do. Not any longer; I’ve had enough.” She stood up and walked towards the door. She turned to look back at him. “So, I’ll need to find another job, I understand. It’s a shame, but it’s worth it to be free and independent. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  Back at her desk, she was still shaking. She gripped the edge of the keyboard, the spinning figures on the screen made no sense. The coded letters swirled round and round in a frantic dance, and she found herself breathing heavily.

  Pull yourself together, she told herself. You’ve faced worse things than a man sitting in a boardroom making threats. He’ll just walk away and accept defeat – won’t he?

  She stroked her lower belly. Pregnant! She couldn’t believe it. She should have given Ian this powerful reason for keeping herself safe. It would give her the excuse she needed to walk away from what she knew would put her and the unborn child in the path of danger.

  It was early days, but she and Simon had talked for hours about names, where they should live, how much time off she would take for the confinement, and whether she would return to work after the birth. As soon as he got back from London, they planned to marry and be as normal a couple as his job allowed.

  It suddenly dawned on her that Fleming had appeared in Durban when Simon had told her he’d been ordered to meet up with Fleming at HQ in London. This didn’t make sense, what was going on?

  She did her best to concentrate for a while, then accepted defeat. She was unproductive and unable to work. One moment she experienced a blinding rage, the next extreme anxiety about her untenable position. She had no idea how safe she would be now. SIS did not mess around, and she had defied them.

  She emptied the cache, powered down her computer, collected her belongings, and signed out. The hot sun hit her as she left the building and the heat radiated shimmering waves off the tarmac as she walked towards her car. Where was her car? It wasn’t in its usual bay.

  She squinted round the parking area but it was nowhere to be seen. She stopped to think. Nobody could have stolen it from inside the compound, not without authorisation.

  She went to the guardhouse.

  “Afternoon Madam,” the friendly African greeted her.

  “Hello, Gabriel. I can’t see my car anywhere. Do you know…?”

  “Ah, no Madam, yes Madam, it was driven out of here just a little while ago. The man I do not know, but he had the proper papers. There was no reason to stop him. You did not know?”

  “No. No I didn’t know, Gabriel.”

  “I am so sorry Madam, sorry Madam. He told me you had agreed and I could not stop him – he had all the right papers – so sorry Madam. And he had the keys.” His forced smile looked a little lopsided.

  “Never mind, I’m sure you’re not to blame.”

  Amie turned and stared at the one-story brick building housing the British Consulate in Durban. She was loath to go back inside. Only this morning, it was a warm, familiar place full of friends. Now, it loomed large and menacing; it was a place where she’d been threatened.

  One of the office workers came out and waved. “Hi,” he called. “Problem?”

  “Yes, you could say that. Someone has borrowed my car and left me behind.”

  “Need a lift home?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Hop in; it’s not far out of my way.”

  Amie inserted her key in the downstairs door and took the lift up to her flat. Her head spun and her heart thumped. All she wanted to do was have a cool shower, climb into bed, curl up and hide from the world. She needed time to think things through and make plans.

  The first thing she saw when she opened her door was Ian Fleming reclining on her couch. He’d raided her drinks cabinet, the half-full wine glass sat blatantly in front of him on the coffee table.

  Her feet were rooted on the doorstep, her muscles frozen.

  “Don’t just stand there Amie, come in and sit down. You’re making the place look untidy.”

  “How, dare you!” she gasped kicking the door shut behind her. “This is my flat, my place! You have no right.”

  “Calm down.” There was a menacing sharpness in his voice. “My dear girl, I have every right. Who leases this flat, provides you with a car and employs you?”

  His use of the present tense wasn’t lost on Amie as she flung her bag on the table and stalked into the kitchenette to put the kettle on.

  “I’m terminating my employment as from this moment,” she said as she grabbed her favourite mug. She opened the coffee jar and scooped out two heaped spoons of granules, throwing them into the mug. Her hands were shaking.

  Fleming watched her. If he was fazed by her behaviour he didn’t show it; his laid-back demeanour and infuriating calm made Amie see red. He sat quietly as she made herself a cup of coffee. She was playing for time and hoped he’d give her some space while she considered what to say and how to react.

  She poured the boiling water, splashing scalding drops on her hands as she concentrated on trying to steady them. This Ian was not the man who’d helped her when she returned to Apatu a few months ago. He’d arranged a comfortable hotel room, cleared up the dead bodies and joked with her about the low standard of hotel housekeeping. This was a stranger who’d invaded her flat – the small, one-bedroom apartment she was so proud of, her sanctuary. It was where she felt safe, even though these days the crime rate was high in South Africa. But it held precious memories of many wonderful nights spent with Simon.

  She stirred her coffee and walked over to the large window that overlooked the back gardens and the large, communal pool.

  “I can see you’re going to make life difficult for me,” she said.

  “No, Amie, not difficult – impossible.”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Put me in witness protection if you like. I promise not to contact my parents, nor any family members. They have no idea I’m still alive,” she lied. “I’ll never set foot in Britain again. No one need ever know I exist. Give me new papers, another life and I’ll be out of your hair once and for all. You said yourself, I’m a rotten spy. I’m useless with guns and I hate violence.” She’d run out of arguments.

  “Yes, you’re all of those things Amie. You have no idea how aghast I was listening to your debriefing, at the mistakes you made, the people you didn’t kill that you should have terminated. You have, I admit, on occasion shown a little initiative, but to be honest, you are the last person I’d want to send out on a job. You’re a liability. However, this time we have no option. It’s most unfortunate you’re the only suitable person we have.”

  “I’m glad you think me suitable for something,” Amie snapped back. She
hated being a spy, but being deliberately called inept wasn’t pleasant either.

  “Frankly, I’m not in favour of using you at all, but we don’t have anyone else and time is of the essence. You will be leaving early tomorrow morning.”

  “But – but I can’t.” Amie was horrified. She grabbed a cushion from the couch and tugged at the fringe as she paced back and forth across her small lounge – her coffee forgotten on the windowsill.

  “And,” he continued ignoring her distress, “you will tell no one you’re going. I’ll smooth things over at the office. You will remain here this evening; pack. I’ll be here at six tomorrow morning to take you to the airport.”

  Amie felt her world fall apart. How could she disappear and not contact Simon? Well Mr bloody Fleming, that was one instruction she had no intention of following.

  And the baby, what about the baby? Some instinct told her not to mention it. She wouldn’t put it past him to march her to a local clinic to dispose of another unwanted encumbrance.

  She fought back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She would not cry in front of this man. Her mind raced. There had to be a means of escape.

  Fleming stood up, strode over to her handbag, blatantly removed her cell phone and put it in his pocket. He took her laptop from the dining room table, her last line of communication.

  Amie was too stunned to stop him. Had he been an assailant, an ordinary burglar or a total stranger, she would have attacked him, fought for what was hers and given him a good kick in the balls or a poke in the eye. But he was her boss, one of the few she’d met. The man she’d liked and admired so much was now cold and calculating.

  With the laptop under one arm and her keys in his hand, he gave her a slight nod as he made for the door.

  “Remember Amie, not a word to a soul, and believe me, I’ll know. Don’t even think about doing anything stupid.” He opened the door and walked out, locking it behind him.