The Dlamini Abduction by Bongani Morgan.

 

Lightning flickered briefly over the city, illuminating a lone figure standing outside a building. It was raining and the wind tore into the rain. It tugged at the figure’s coat. It was midnight. The figure’s name was Bheki Dlamini. He was a detective. And his younger brother had been abducted.

Bheki was a young detective who moved from Durban to Johannesburg in an attempt to live life without his father, a communications Mogul who owned the largest telecommunications network in Africa, controlling much of it. Bheki and his younger brother, Sizwe, had moved to Johannesburg to start a normal life.

Bheki and his brother had been living in Johannesburg for two weeks. No one knew of their status. For once, the were conforming to an ordinary life. Then ,one Thursday, Sizwe disappeared. The school security had searched all over the premises. There were cameras placed at each entrance/exit of the school and it played back the day’s recorded surveillance. Sizwe hadn’t been seen leaving the school. Nor was he still inside it. Bheki always fetched his brother at three-thirty. The police were called in and a search was conducted. Airports, train stations and highway toll gates leading in and out of Johannesburg were guarded. The boy wasn’t found.

Bheki had been told to wait at least twenty-four hours before his brother’s disappearance would reach the missing persons’ unit. Bheki couldn’t afford to have his father find out. He had to find his brother. Tonight.

Using his influence, Bheki, contacted his old friend who worked at a secret service agency who helped him trace a white Tazz that had three men dragging a boy into the boot and driving into an apartment building in the centre of Johannesburg. This was tracked through satelite surveillance. The building was called Rushley Heights. Bheki had been given the address.

He was standing outside it now, a towering derelict apartment block that had crumbling brick work and peeling paint work looming over the street. It was five floors high. Thunder rolled in the distance. The rain hammered into the earth, a pounding deluge that threatened to drown the world. He moved forward.

Bheki couldn’t use the front entrance as it was locked. He forced his way in through a fire escape and a ventilation shaft which threw him onto a dimly lit corridor. Now what? He got up and stood still. There were three doors on either side. Which one? Was he on the right floor? There was a thud on the second door on the right. Bheki moved quickly. Drawing his gun, he kicked the door off its hinges and rolled in.

There were three people and his brother was tied to a rickety wooden chair. Bheki straightened up and ducked a knife that was swung at him and smashed the butt of his gun into the man’s throat who fell. He didn’t move. The other one lunged but Bheki was too quick, slamming his heel into his solar plexus. The man crumbled to the floor. The third stood up and raised his hands. Bheki tensed. The man came close. What he saw shocked him. It was his father. The police tumbled into the room. They had been watching Bheki at a safe distance and they arrested all the kidnappers. Bheki turned his back on his father and untied his brother and walked out of the room. He didn’t look back. He and his brother were young in the city. And the city had almost claimed his brother. This had been the result.