The Dublin Hit Read online

  “So, did everything go well?” The old woman took the man in a warm embrace.

  “Aye, it did,” he replied. “No patrols on the road tonight, so I didn’t have to navigate the back trails like I thought I was gonna.”

  The old woman stepped away from him toward Sauwa looking at her guest over ─ garbed in her large grey flannel and wool knit cap ─ and carefully assessing her. “So, this is the one the folks in Belfast are so concerned about,” the old woman said, surprised. “She’s barely more than a child.”

  “She is that my love,” the old man replied. “But, don’t let that fool you. If even half of what I was told is true, she’s a dangerous one.”

  She looked back at Sauwa. The old woman’s eyes betrayed the mind of a woman who wanted to be motherly, but her posture remained cautious.

  “Well, you must be freezing in those wet clothes. I’ll draw you a bath and get you into something dry. Then a hot meal for the both of you before you’re off to bed.”

  Sauwa was not allowed even a word before the old woman marched her out of the kitchen and up a narrow passage of creaky, wooden steps leaving the old man to his own devices in the kitchen.

  The woman stayed a distance behind Sauwa, just out of reach in case Sauwa had a mind to turn and attack her. The narrow stairway, combined with her bergen still strapped over her back, made any such notion impractical. The old woman, though behaving like a homemaker, had all the mannerisms and instincts of someone quite accustomed to dealing with nefarious types.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, Sauwa was directed toward a room just off to the right from the stairwell. It was a small storage closet deep enough to walk into, though too narrow to turn in. The old woman instructed her to walk into the closet and wait. Reluctantly, Sauwa obeyed. She entered the tiny room ─ made more uncomfortable by the addition of cleaning supplies and towels ─ and listened as the old woman ascended the steps.

  It was an easy assumption that the closet was just a precaution. Pushing Sauwa into a tight place ensured she couldn’t ambush her hostess as she came up the stairs. Another possibility was the thought that this was a setup, and she was now defenseless.

  A minute later, the door opened. “Come, my love,” the old woman said in a soft, warming tone.

  Backing awkwardly out of the closet, Sauwa turned to see the old woman, who smiled and waved her hand in the direction of what appeared to be a spare bedroom.

  “This will be where you’ll stay during your time with us.” She took Sauwa gently in hand and led her the rest of the way.

  The bedroom was like the rest of the house, nineteenth century, adorned with collections of furniture from the many different eras the house had seen in its time. Looking about the room, Sauwa felt a sudden pang of homesickness. There was a strange familiarity about it all. It reminded her of the old farmhouse she had grown up in on the Transvaal.

  “I hope this is to your liking.” The old woman interrupted her nostalgic thoughts. “We weren’t told how long you’ll be with us. This room will be yours until you move on.”

  “This is fine,” Sauwa replied faintly. “It’s actually better than what I’ve had for a long time.”

  “Well, love, we need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death. You need to take a warm bath and then have a bit of supper.” She worked the bergen off Sauwa’s shoulders. “Do you have dry clothes of your own?”

  “Yes ma’am, I do.”

  “I’ll get them. I have to search your things anyway.” The old woman was apologetic

  “I know.” Sauwa stepped a few feet back and allowed the older woman to work. “If the situation was reversed, I would demand the exact same thing.”

  Flipping open the bergen, the old woman untied the strap around the plastic bag lining the pack for waterproofing. “You’re clearly a frontiersman,” she joked as she began rummaging through Sauwa’s things. Both women kept a steady eye on the other. The search ended with the old woman producing a grey, long-sleeved shirt and black and white plaid flannel bottoms, which she laid on the bed.

  The old woman straightened, waited and observed as Sauwa began to undress. It was slightly uncomfortable for Sauwa to be watched so closely. Still, she had to respect her hostess’s concerns. At least she could take solace in the notion that it was another woman doing the observing and searches as opposed to some man. It was a luxury she didn’t often enjoy in her world.

  Knowing what the old woman was looking for, Sauwa immediately threw the Makarov pistol onto the bed, followed by the double-bladed gripping knife. The old woman’s face revealed not the slightest concern for the fearsome weapons displayed. Instead, she merely nodded obligingly, as if to thank the young girl for not trying to hide them.

  With the exception of her soggy, cotton underwear, Sauwa was completely naked. Collecting the dry night clothes laid out on the bed, the old woman led her young charge into the main corridor. Sauwa grabbed her pistol and followed. The two crossed to the other side of the hall and stepped into a bathroom. It was homey. The wood flooring and carpet cover over the toilet seat all added to the grandmotherly persona the old couple was definitely trying to achieve.

  “I’ll let you keep your weapons,” the old woman said. “You have no reason to trust us, and we intend to be careful of you, too. We also realize you wouldn’t take to being completely defenseless. I don’t know much about you except that those we report to said you were dangerous.”

  “That means I could also be a dangerous threat to you,” Sauwa replied as she perused the bathroom.

  The old woman nodded. “Aye, ya could. But, I’ve been doing this a long time. If you intended harm, you most likely would have done it by now when you had both of us together. You wouldn’t have let yourself be put in this position. I also suspect, as scared as you are, if we tried to take the weapons we know about from you, we’d either get killed or you’d just find something to replace them with that would catch us even more off guard. A professional such as yourself relies on instincts and skill to ply your trade, more than an over-reliance on specific weapons. This way, I know what you have, and I and my husband will take our own precautions, so we can stay with this stalemate for now.”

  Sauwa took a deep breath before saying, “I didn’t have a chance to thank you and your husband for taking me in like this.”

  The old woman chuckled softly. Her guest cut a most extraordinary figure: toned with the well curved and proportioned body one expected from a professional athlete. Her skin was nearly snow white, which ─ when added to her coal black eyes and the long silky raven black hair running straight down the length of her back ─ gave her the haunting appearance of the iconic angel of death. Indeed, it was a most fitting image for such an infamous killer, as the young girl was reputed to be. “It’s alright my child. No thanks are needed. Our people have told us to give you sanctuary, and that is what will do until told differently. Oh, and since you may be staying a spell, you can call me Shanna, and my husband is Rowan.”

  Sauwa lowered her eyes. “I assume those are not your real names.”

  “No, my child,” the old woman smiled pleasantly.

  “I guess they told you what to call me?”

  Shanna bent to work the faucet of the bathtub. “Aye, Willow is what we’re to call you. And that be the only name I want to know,” she said with a twinge of nervousness. “I’ve heard only that you are a dangerous person, who did many violent things for those whom you served. And, since the orders directing us to help you are coming all the way from the Belfast command, it can only mean you’re someone of great importance. That is all I and my husband want to know. For us, too much information makes us liabilities. I have seen my share of killers over the years. While I don’t see you as the merciless killer type, you do seem the type who wouldn’t hesitate, should the need to kill occur.”

  Sauwa felt cold in the pit of her stomach at hearing this gracious, motherly figure so easily assess her as a professional killer did not sit well.
Violence and spying had been her life for the last several years fighting a dirty war. But the war was over. She, like any other soldier, wanted to go home and live peacefully, but that was not an option yet, not for her. She had to live with the reality that she would never again set foot on her homeland soil. She was a fugitive for the foreseeable future, wanted throughout the world as a war criminal. Still, Shanna’s words cut deeply in a strange way. She didn’t have to keep working as spy and terrorist. Nor did she intend to. She would get a new identity and, until circumstances changed, blend into a whole new life as a whole new person somewhere. She would get a job, find decent work and put her former life behind her.

  The bathtub was now filled with steaming water. Shanna placed a towel atop Sauwa’s night clothes before giving her another warm smile and leaving the bathroom. Discarding the last of her garments, Sauwa slid slowly into the tub. The warm, heavenly water gradually encompassed her tired and cold body.

  When Sauwa came downstairs, she found the couple sitting at an old oak table in the center of the kitchen. Both were enjoying a glass of some pitch-black liquid that Sauwa assumed was beer. She stepped into the kitchen dressed in her grey, long-sleeved shirt and flannel sweats looking every bit like a teenager settling in at her parents’ home.

  Shanna rose to her feet and walked over to the antique stove where a large pot was bubbling and emitting a tasty aroma. “I’ve made some beef stew and some greens for dinner,” she said happily. She opened the pot and began dishing up some brown, mud-like substance into three porcelain bowls. “I figure, since we’re still getting to know each other, I’d wait and have all of us eat at the same time. Ya know, so you wouldn’t worry we had tampered with anything.”

  “That’s all right,” Sauwa replied. “You didn’t have to wait.” It wasn’t true. She wasn’t about to eat anything before these people hadn’t eaten it in front of her first. She had seen too many people die of poisoning or get drugged because they were too trusting or careless.

  Piling the stew into the porcelain bowls, Shanna collected them and walked them over to set them in the center of the table. She looked up at Sauwa. “Given the situation, you choose first.”

  Sauwa reached for a bowl and a nearby spoon before sinking into a chair. The old couple followed suit. They enjoyed the meal in silence, neither side was eager to engage in conversation. Despite the unappetizing appearance, the stew tasted delicious. Shanna had added a spinach salad and a few slices of white bread spread with butter. Sauwa hadn’t enjoyed a home cooked meal in a long while. She washed it all down with a glass of a sweet tasting fruit juice and was surprised at how full she was.

  “So, Willow,” Rowan spoke up, after what seemed an eternity of dead silence. “Tomorrow, I’ll be workin’ about the house and field. My wife will be off at the market for most of the day buyin’ groceries and such. She’ll also be the liaison to our command and will be makin’ contact with them to let them know we have received you and all seems well.”

  Sauwa looked at the old man with tired eyes saying nothing.

  He continued. “In the meantime, I need ya to stay within the confines of the house and properties for the next few days. Since you have no documents or papers and given your, ah, legal status, we can’t afford to have you seen by anyone.”

  “I understand,” Sauwa said. “I imagine this is a tight-knit community where everyone knows everyone.”

  Rowan smiled. “It is that, love. And with the violence that’s been seen in these parts for so many years, people tend to take careful notice of strangers who mysteriously show up. It’ll be easier if you just stay close to the house and disappear when neighbors come callin’.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” she replied.

  “You should be getting off to bed,” Shanna chimed in, her voice soothing. “Come, I’ll lead you upstairs.”

  Rising from her chair, Sauwa, feeling drained, followed the old woman. Again ascending the narrow stairwell, they returned to the guest room.

  “I’ve laid a bedpan for you,” Shanna said, directing her charge to the far side of the bed. Sauwa looked confused at the sight of the stainless-steel bowl.

  Shanna sighed. “It wouldn’t do to go creeping about in the night, even to the loo. If someone be creeping about outside, we immediately assume they be meaning us harm. You stay in your room at night and wait until we come for you. If you have to, you’ll conduct your lady business in your pan.”

  Not wanting to abuse their hospitality, Sauwa accepted the situation as she prepared for bed. She tucked her pistol under her pillow, and took a few seconds to bar the door with a wooden board. She didn’t want anyone sneaking in during the night, including the old couple, who she still distrusted.

  Sauwa slipped into bed, under soft blankets. Finally, a safe, decent place to sleep. No need to be on constant alert or move quickly from minute to minute. She believed she would be at this place for a while. And while she didn’t completely trust her current hosts, they seemed less threatening than those she had dealt with recently.

  Her head had no sooner hit the pillow when the fatigue of so many days living on edge caught up with her, and she was instantly out.

  3

  It was late in the morning when Sauwa awoke to a knock at her door. Between her grogginess and the sunlight now beaming into her bedroom, it took her a few moments for her eyes to adjust. Slowly she rose to a sitting position and assessed the room. “We’re having breakfast downstairs, dear.” It was the pleasant sounding voice of Shanna. “I’ve gone ahead and unlocked the door, so, feel free to join us when you’re ready.

  Everything was as she had left it, including the bar against the door. Sliding out of bed, she studied the windows. The dust on the panels had not been disturbed. Content no one had gotten into her room during the night, she set about getting dressed. Her only other set of clothes consisted of some beaten blue jeans, a pale blue Mickey Mouse shirt and another white long-sleeved shirt. She pulled on her boots and knit cap, tucked her knife and pistol in her belt under her shirt and went out the door.

  Due to the remote location, she figured it was safer to have her weapons. Besides, if the police should come knocking, she had numerous places to quickly ditch her hardware. The immediate concern was some hit team coming around looking for her or her hosts.

  Downstairs, she found Rowan at the kitchen table consumed by his newspaper. “Shanna made some breakfast for ya before she left this morning,” he said, his face still buried in the sports section.

  “Thank you.” She spotted the basket of sausage, a pan of fried eggs and some potato based dish. Grabbing a plate, she leisurely collected food from the choices offered before stepping over to the table. Rapping the paper to catch Rowan’s attention, she waited with one eyebrow cocked. He lowered his news sheet to find her plate thrust in front of him. The sight of two forks made it clear what she wanted. Taking one of the forks, he took a mouth full of each dish. Only when he swallowed in front of her did she take a seat and commence eating. Without a word, he returned to his paper.

  The sight of an article on one of Rowan’s discarded pages stopped her. It was an article discussing South Africa and the announcement of the investigations into the Civil Cooperation Bureau.

  Reaching for the sheet, she quickly skimmed it. What she read unnerved her.

  The article discussed the appointment of a special prosecutor to look into the activities of the Civil Cooperation Bureau ─ the CCB ─ abroad. This was not surprising. She had known about this intention when the Apartheid collapsed, and her commander explained that she and the others in the group were now considered criminals by the new government. Still, this was the first time she had seen anything official.

  Deep down, she had hoped what she had been told were exaggerations of a paranoid racist. However, as she read more, any hope she had dissolved. The article explained the creation of some sort of Truth and Reconciliation Commission to investigate the activities of the country’s security services.
r />   When she finished reading, all she could think about was that she would never again be able to go home.

  Her appetite now lost, she struggled through each bite. Somehow she managed to finish her breakfast at the same time Rowan finished his paper. She slumped in her chair, a disappointed look on her face, the article before her.

  The old man stood up. “You interested in helping me with the field today?”

  As if being freed from a trance, Sauwa looked up at the old man. A smile cracked across her face, and she nodded. She jumped up, placed her dish in the washbasin and followed him out the door.

  The yard work was a welcome distraction, one she needed at that moment. It also felt good to have a chance to return the favor of the help the couple had provided. Her skills, acquired from growing up on a farm, had not been lost, and she found she was able to help fix the rusted old tractor and use most of the aged equipment. The farm was a decent size, not large but not small either. It offered the means for the old couple to subsist with enough left over to fetch a tidy little sum on the market.

  During their time in the field, Rowan was cordial and pleasant, much more so than the previous night. He joked and engaged his guest with the offer of some of his home-brewed beer, an offer she politely declined. He was taken by the young lady’s abilities and familiarity around the place. He was just as impressed with her work ethic, as she diligently toiled in the field. But as friendly as they became, they remained guarded against each other staying cognizant of their situation. They did not give away details or personal information, ever aware of the veteran experience each of them had in the shadowy world in which they resided.

  It was around 1300hrs when Shanna returned from the day’s outing. She rode up in a beaten Land Rover. Sauwa had ridden in the vehicle night before. Behind her was another car, a white Mitsubishi model of some sort. Both vehicles stopped just in front of the house, leaving Rowan and Sauwa protected from view by several large, thick shrubs. Rowan waved Sauwa off as he stood up and started walking toward the vehicles.