It was seventeen hours later when the Boeing 737-200 carrying Deng Shiyang and Keith landed at Durban International Airport. They had arrived at Oliver Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg at 7 a.m., had a short layover, and then took an inland flight with South African Airways, arriving in Durban at 10:30 a.m.


    After completing immigration formalities, they went to the baggage claim area to retrieve their checked luggage. The yawning Deng Shiyang exaggeratedly stretched, then slung his travel bag over his right shoulder and used his other hand to pull the Rimowa polycarbonate suitcase he had bought in Hong Kong, following behind a similarly tired Keith out of the terminal. As he rubbed his eyes, he complained about Harrowby’s stinginess; the more than ten hours spent in economy class had left him exhausted.


    Just as they exited the airport, Jannie Du Preez came up to meet them.


    Slightly overweight, Du Preez wore dark yellow shoes, beige casual trousers, and a white short-sleeved linen shirt with blue paisley patterns. He wore large black sunglasses and had a rattan hat on his head. If it weren’t for the somewhat eye-catching skull tattoo on his left arm, the South African mercenary could easily pass as a suburban middle-class resident.


    After a brief greeting, Du Preez led them to the parking lot next to the airport, where they boarded a brand-new Toyota Land Cruiser 200.


    The white Land Cruiser left the airport, heading northeast along the M4 highway into the Jacobs area before turning onto Croly Street toward the beach. The vehicle first passed through a small residential area, then continued east along Hubble Road beside "Happy Valley," passing through a small wooded area before arriving at a residential area called Brighton Beach, finally stopping in front of a villa on Ellerley Road.


    "This is the best place I could find with such short notice," Du Preez said, opening the car door and leading them into the garden.


    The red-roofed, white-walled villa covered less than 3,000 square feet. Rather than calling it a villa, it would be more accurate to describe it as a relatively large beach house. The two-story house faced northwest, with lush woods growing on the slope behind the house, stretching all the way down to Brighton Beach. From the backyard, while looking at the view of the Indian Ocean, the beach below and the road leading to it were barely visible through gaps in the treetops.


    Du Preez led the two of them around the villa. Keith observed the beach for a while and pointed toward a parking lot at the end of the road, asking, "How far is it?"


    Du Preez looked in the direction he was pointing and replied, "About a hundred yards. There’s a path through the woods leading to the parking lot; it only takes a few minutes to get there if you walk quickly."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Where does the road lead?"


    "Seaview; it''s about one or two miles from here."


    Keith thought for a moment and then said, "Arrange a car there later. Get an inconspicuous old one, and have enough keys for everyone."


    "No problem, I’ll take care of it before the afternoon."


    "Great." Keith nodded and gestured toward the villa, asking, "How many keys are there?"


    Du Preez took out a keyring from his pocket, which held four silver keys.


    Keith took the keyring and removed two keys. He put one in his pocket and handed the other to Deng Shiyang.


    The three of them spent over an hour carefully inspecting the garden and the surrounding area before moving their luggage inside. All of the villa''s furniture was covered with white cloth, suggesting that it hadn’t been inhabited for some time. However, the floors and windows were spotless, indicating that someone had been hired to clean it regularly.


    Keith put down his luggage, walked around the living room and kitchen, picked up the telephone receiver, and then smiled at Du Preez, saying, "This place is nice; you’ve done a great job."


    The South African man smiled but said nothing.


    Keith handed him two stacks of twenty-dollar bills, saying, "This afternoon, head to the nearby post office and rent a mailbox under the name ''Charles Shannon.''” He paused before continuing, "We’ll be staying here for a month; see what’s missing and buy what we need."


    Du Preez took the money and put it in his pocket, then asked, "Is there anything else?"


    Keith thought for a moment before replying, "That’s all for now." Then he rubbed his stomach and said, "Is there a good restaurant nearby? I''m starving."


    By midday, the two of them, now settled in, sat in Du Preez’s Land Cruiser, heading for Van Riebeeck Park next to Brighton Beach.


    Keith hadn’t revealed too many details about the job. In the car, he only casually mentioned that he had recently secured a contract and needed some people to participate. Though Du Preez remained expressionless, Deng Shiyang could see that the big South African’s curiosity had been sufficiently piqued.


    In the golf clubhouse at the park, they had a hearty meal of "bredie," a traditional South African stew, and two large plates of skewers known locally as "sosaties," all accompanied by fruity beer. After their meal, Keith and Du Preez discussed the job.


    "I can''t say much about the specifics for now, but one thing’s for sure—besides the combat itself, we’ll need to handle the preparations ourselves," Keith said. He paused, glancing at Du Preez before adding, "As for the pay, each participant will receive a ￡10,000 advance payment and ￡40,000 upon completion."


    Upon hearing this, Du Preez muttered softly, "The South African government is cracking down on mercenaries, and all the colleagues have already been documented. Especially those who came out of EO or fought abroad—each of them has a file as thick as the Bible at the ''Secret Service'' headquarters..."


    "That’s not what we''re doing at all," Keith interrupted with a laugh. "We need your connections to buy some weapons and supplies here in South Africa. Of course, all transactions will be done legally. Once the cargo leaves port, the rest will be handled in another country."


    Du Preez grinned.


    "Is it a long-term operation, or a sudden strike?"


    "A sudden strike!" Keith replied affirmatively.


    "Alright, I''m in." After a brief consideration, Du Preez agreed.


    Keith extended his hand to shake with him.


    This day marked sixty days until President Ndofa''s birthday.


    Annotations:


    - South African Secret Service (SASS): South Africa''s intelligence agency.