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Chapter Thirty Nine
The landing was rough. Fourteen miles per hour winds rocked the aircraft. A Cape windstorm descended on the city, and fifty mph gusts were predicted within the hour. Thanks to Mandla’s contacts, they’d secured a private landing strip on a wine farm near Sir Lowry’s Pass—thirteen clicks out. With lights and speed on their side, they were looking at a nine-minute drive. Khalid’s jet had landed at Stellenbosch Airfield twenty-eight minutes before them but had a longer commute of twenty-one kilometers.
Praying that Khalid hit traffic, Max’s team raced for Somerset West.
Mandla gave Max the stink eye. “N
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Johannesburg. Four weeks later. That damn dog wouldn’t be able to fight its way out of a paper packet, never mind protect his Lizzy. Johnny watched her mom’s little rat dog take a shit on the sidewalk, before his blonde beauty bent over with a poop bag to sweep up the steaming parcel. Johnny paused to take in the spectacular view that was Lizzy’s incredible ass. Perky butt cheeks shaped beautifully by faded skinny jeans. Her retro outfit included a Michael Jackson “Thriller” T-shirt, silver sneakers, fire-engine lipstick and a bandana holding back curls. Where was she taking the ankle biter? There were no parks nearby plus she carried a bright red handbag. Not the wisest choice on the streets of Jo’burg, yet she wandered down the street like she was strolling through Central Park. Granted, it was a suburban area, but it wasn’t safe. Lizzy dropped the bag of rat droppings into a neighbor’s garbage can, then wiped her hands with a wet wipe. Her p
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