Carte Blanche

the wheel, gunned the engine and steered them away into the night.
    They left behind the angry, confused crowd and the tumultuous flames . . . but not a single injury.
    It had been a true race to the finish line to save the family.
    After he’d learned that Dlamini was going to be targeted by Dunne and that he lived virtually anonymously in a huge township, Bond had struggled to come up with a way to locate him. GCHQ and MI6 could find no mobile in his name or any personal information in South African census or trade-union records. He had taken a chance and called Kwalene Nkosi. “I’m going to tell you something, Warrant Officer, and I hope I can rely on you to keep it to yourself. From everyone .”
    There’d been a pause and the young man had said cautiously, “Go on.”
    Bond had laid out the problem, including the fact that the surveillance had been illegal.
    “Your signal is breaking up, Commander. I missed that last part.”
    Bond had laughed. “But we have to find where this Stephan Dlamini lives. Now.”
    Nkosi had sighed. “It is going to be difficult. Primrose Gardens is huge. But I have an idea.” The minibus taxi operations, it seemed, knew far more about the shantytowns and lokasies than the local government did. The warrant officer would begin calling them. He and Bond had met, then driven fast to Primrose Gardens, Nkosi continuing his search for the family’s shack via his mobile. At close to 6 P.M . they’d been cruising through the township when a taxi driver had reported that he knew where Dlamini lived. He’d directed Bond and Nkosi there.
    As they’d approached, they’d seen another van at the front, a white face glancing out.
    “Dunne,” Nkosi had said.
    He and Bond had veered away and parked behind the shanty. They’d pushed through the back door and the family had panicked, but Nkosi had told them, in their own language, that the men had come to save them. They had to get out immediately. Stephan Dlamini was not at home yet but soon would be.
    A few minutes later he’d come through the door with his young son, and Bond, knowing the attack was imminent, had had no choice but to draw his gun and force them out of the back door. Nkosi had just finished explaining Bond’s purpose and the danger, when the grenades went off, followed by the petrol bomb.
    Now they were on the N1, cruising west. Dlamini gripped Bond’s hand and shook it. Then he leaned forward to the front passenger seat and hugged him. Tears stood in his eyes. His wife huddled in the back with her children, studying Bond suspiciously as the agent told him who’d been behind the attack.
    Finally, after hearing the story, Dlamini asked in dismay, “Mr. Hydt? But how can that be? He is best boss. He treat all of us good. Very good. I am not understanding this.”
    Bond explained. It seemed that Dlamini had learned something about illegal activities Hydt and Dunne were engaged in.
    His eyes flashed. “I know what you are speaking of.” His head bobbed up and down. He told Bond that he was a maintenance man at the Green Way plant north of town. That morning he’d found the door to the company’s Research and Development office left open for deliveries. The two employees inside were at the back of the room. Dlamini had seen an overflowing bin inside. The rubbish there was supposed to be handled by somebody else but he decided to empty it anyway. “I just was trying to do good job. That’s all.” He shook his head. “I go inside and start to empty this bin when one of the workers sees me and starts screaming at me. What did I see? What was I looking at? I said, ‘Nothing.’ He ordered me out.”
    “And did you see anything that might’ve upset them?”
    “I don’t think so. On the computer beside the bin there was a message, an e-mail, I think. I saw ‘Serbia’ in English. But I paid no more attention.”
    “Anything else?”
    “No, sir.”
    Serbia . . .
    So some of the secrets to Gehenna lay beyond the door to Research and Development.
    Bond said to Nkosi, “We have to get the family away. If I give them money, is there a hotel where they can stay until the weekend?”
    “I can find some rooms for them.”
    Bond gave them fifteen hundred rand. The man blinked as he stared at the sum. Nkosi explained to Dlamini that he would have to stay in hiding for a short while.
    “And have him call other family members and close friends. He should tell them that he and his family are all right but that