was Peter-John.
“Those planes have no markin’s, none to say what aircraft or carrier it is.”
“What’s odd about that?”
Peter-John gets up and starts pacing about.
Drew eyes him and smirks.
“Relax, buddy.”
Peter-John gives him a stare. He shakes his head and goes to lean against the wall.
“That’s not normal. That is what I’m sayin’.
The Skype ringtone coming from Florian’s laptop interrupts her.
“That must be Babalwa.”
“Who’s Baba… what?” Florian suddenly agitated. He gets up and heads to his laptop.
“I thought…”
Before he could get to it, Drew answers the call.
“Unnjannni, Babalwa?” He smiles at the young woman on the screen.
“Ndiyaphila, enkosi. Kunjani kuwe?” Babalwa smiles.
“Nkosi, nkosi. We’re all ahwesome. What time is it over there?”
He pulls a chair closer.
Florian starts pacing around.
He bites his fist.
Peter-John notices.
He knew what was upsetting Florian.
He shakes his head and goes flat on the floor.
“It’s just after 6am. It must be after 9pm there where you all are, right.”
“Spot on, beautiful. You just get up?”
Drew sits in closer.
“No, gosh no. I’ve been up since 4. Went for a jog. I was just about to head out. Got lots to do before I head back to Jozi.”
“Where are you now?” This was Madison.
Florian eyes her.
Paces more.
“I’m in the Mother City.”
“You mean Cape Town?”
“Yes. Just finishing up with an investigation. Got some interesting stuff.”
“You mean regardin’ the human traffickin’?”
Madison pulls her chair closer too.
“Yip. Seems I was too late though.”
“What do you mean?”
Madison seems upset.
“Seems they don’t use the same premises all the time.”
“What exactly are you talkin’ about? I’m Embeth, by the way.”
Embeth joins in.
“Nice to meet, see you.” Babalwa smiles.
“I’m still not exactly sure where this all will take me, but the traffickers are targeting the squatter camps; mostly girls and boys that didn’t do too well with their finals. Most failed or barely passed Grade 12.”
“Yeah?” Drew more interested than before.
“Yes. They’re offered work, and are promised training in the Eastern Cape. Once there, the girls are sold for sex and the boys start selling insurance. Or fake insurance. All simply a plot to get unsuspecting customers’ details. Once in they don’t get out.”
Babalwa sighs.
“It goes much deeper than that, but I’ll have to get more information. I have a lead on someone that managed to escape, but the usual, too scared to speak. They have little trust in the police.”
The screen freezes.
“Are you guys still there?” Babalwa asks.
“We’re still here. Video messed up, but the audio seems fine.”
Drew sits back.
Florian goes to the laptop and starts fiddling around.
“Well, guess I’ll sign off then. Was great to chat to you all. Let me know when I can call again. Perhaps I’ll have more.”
“Sure thing, beautiful. Bye.”
Drew smiles.
“Bye.” Babalwa laughs softly.
There is the familiar Skype beep and the line goes quiet.
“Who installed Skype on my laptop? You know you just endangered her life!”
Florian was fuming.
“Chill, Florian.”
Peter-John gets up and walks towards him.
“Don’t tell me to chill. You of all should know better. Or do you not believe me? You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Of course I believe you, Flo. Honest. But I had nothin’ to do with this.”
Peter-John puts a hand on his shoulder.
“That’s probably why the video froze. It’s…”
“Nothin’.” Peter-John stops him.
“Let’s all relax. Florian, everythin’s gonna be okay. Trust me.”
Florian glares at him.
He turns around and notices Embeth’s upset expression.
He breathes deep.
Calms down.
He goes back to his seat.
“I think we should continue. Since we were on the human traffickin’, I think I’ll continue.” That was Embeth.
“These human traffickers seem to be trottin’ the globe. But first, let’s watch this clip.”
She inserts her memory stick into Florian’s laptop and plays a video.
Popular talk show interviewing a famous singer.
“Oh, what’s this? Adorable puppy. What’s this got to do with human traffickin’?”
Drew was confused.
“Just wait till it’s done.”
Everyone watches the short clip and waits with baited breath for Embeth to explain.
“It might be a long shot, but I found this very curious, this whole puppy business.”
Embeth rubs her neck.
Continues.
“These puppies are apparently from South America. You can get them without goin’ through the red tape of all the paperwork to get them into the country.”
“What are you sayin’?” Peter-John starts scratching his head.
“Are you sayin’ they’re not talkin’ about puppies at all?”
“Children?”
The room goes quiet.
“That’s exactly what I’m sayin’. Those in the know can call that number and get themselves some of these kids. Those that don’t, well, I don’t know.”
“Probably turned down.”
“But what makes you think this?”
Madison still not convinced.
“I don’t know. My gut. And that butterfly. Also, that singer has been known to have only Russell Terriers. They’re almost as famous as she is. Never has anyone seen this dog, this Labrador Retriever.”
She looks at the paused clip.
“I tell you, this interview about puppies is just another scam.”
Drew shakes his head.
“I don’t know, Embeth. It looks pretty legit to me.”
“I have to agree,” Madison dips a skewer with a piece of meat into the communal pot and swirls it about.
“I’m with you on this one, Em.” Florian nods his head.
“I too find it strange. I mean why this whole big deal about really gettin’ puppies into the country illegally. That contact that cuts out the paperwork is obviously doin’ somethin’ illegal. Not too sure if they are talkin’ about children between the lines, but somethin’ is off about this interview.”
He dips bread into the cheese.
Embeth smiles and takes a seat.
“Griffin you’ve been awfully tight lipped. Anythin’ to share?”
Griffin scratches his neck nervously.
He looks at all the faces staring back at him.
Drew seems to be in the best of spirits. Smiling like he had no care in the world and eating as if there will be no tomorrow.
Peter-John was with a permanent crease on his forehead. His jaw kept twitching. He was wearing his grey hoodie as usual.
The girls were all bunched together being girls; whispering among themselves and giggling.
“S… sure.” He gets up slowly.
He pulls up his pants and tucks in his blue and red striped, long sleeved shirt.
“I didn’t bring anythin’ with. But I have a few things to say. I… I’m hopin’ you can tell me what y’all think.”
He scratches his head.
Emily gives him a reassuring nod.
She seems to be listening intently.
“I’d like to talk
about Katrina.”
Drew seems immediately curious.
“You mean hurricane Katrina?”
“Yeah.”
Drew more curious.
“What about it. Natural disaster as far as I can tell.”
“Perhaps not.”
Griffin swallows hard.
Looks down and seems to just stare at his sneakers.
“Go ahead, dude. I’m all ears.” Drew dips two skewers with meat into the pot.
Griffin looks up.
“Well, let’s first start by talkin’ a bit about warfare. Not to get too involved with all, urg, all of that, but have any of…” he looks at each one quick, “heard of the rule about usin’ the weather in times of war?”
They all stare at each other.
Shake their heads.
“Doesn’t seem like it, bro. What’s that got to do with this?”
Florian puts down his food and sits up straight.
Peter-John’s face creases more.
The girls stop their whispering and focus on him too.
He swallows hard.
“Well, urg…” he clears his throat, seems more nervous than before,” urg, the rule stipulates that you are not allowed to use the weather against the enemy, but you may use it against your own people.”
He scratches his head.
Looks nervously down.
“Dude, are you sayin’ that Katrina was some attack on Americans by Americans?”
Drew stops eating and sits up more.
Peter-John starts pacing about.
“Yeah… Yes. That’s what I’m sayin’.”
He breathes deep and seems suddenly more at ease.
“But how, dude? It’s the weather? Nature or God is in control of that.”
“Yes. But it can be manipulated.”
“How?” Drew the most eager to get an answer.
The girls all sit with their hands to their mouths.
He observes their looks of shock and disbelief.
“With HAARP. High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program.”
“I heard about that. Aren’t they apparently usin’ it to track down terrorists hidin’ underground or in caves in mountains? It’s for our safety.”
Peter-John paces about more.
With more confidence and a slight smile.
“The terrorists, yes. That is always the excuse they use. We don’t dare to question them once the word terrorist is named. In this case the same.”
“But how can HAARP manipulate the weather?”
“It has to do with radio frequencies bein’ transmitted into the atmosphere. The amount of