Stone the Devil is the story of a nuclear bomb that was manufactured as a result of religious conviction and its journey from the Afrikaner Right Wing into the hands of the Islamic state. It is a story of political intrigue and deceit, of corruption and greed, and of cruelty often inflicted in the name of God. It is a story of the machinations of the secretive Afrikaner Broederbond in former apartheid South Africa, of the savagery and cruelty of Boko Haram, and of the beheadings and single-minded application of Sharia Law by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant and the newly declared Caliphate. It is a story of the significance of the number 7-to some! The reader is taken on a roller-coaster ride from the battle fields of South West Africa (Namibia) and Angola, through suburban crime in the streets of Pretoria and Birmingham, the bombing of the US Embassy in Nairobi, the killing fields of the DRC and Rwanda, and to the climax in Borno Province, Nigeria.
Stone the Devil
By Peter Sinclair EllisPartridge Africa
Copyright © 2015 Peter Sinclair Ellis
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4828-0494-2Contents
In memory, 7,
Acknowledgements, 9,
Prologue, 13,
PART ONE: 1983 TO 1994,
Chapter 1 SAAF Headquarters Pretoria. May 1983, 19,
Chapter 2 Pretoria. February 1988, 24,
Chapter 3 South West Africa (Namibia). June 1988, 31,
Chapter 4 Lyttelton-Pretoria. June 1988, 33,
Chapter 5 South West Africa-Angola. 1988, 43,
Chapter 6 Waterkloof, Pretoria 1989, 53,
Chapter 7 Birmingham 1989, 57,
Chapter 8 Waterkloof, 1993, 60,
Chapter 9 Waterkloof, June 1994, 65,
Chapter 10 Nairobi Kenya 1998, 68,
PART TWO: 2014,
Chapter 11 Waterkloof, March 2014, 77,
Chapter 12 Istanbul, 17 April 2014, 82,
Chapter 13 Istanbul, 18 April 2014, 88,
Chapter 14 Dubai, June 2014, 95,
Chapter 15 Monument Park, June 2014, 99,
Chapter 16 Monument Park, June 2014, 109,
Chapter 17 Sandton, June 2014, 118,
Chapter 18 Ar-Raqqah, Syria, July 2014, 128,
Chapter 19 Pretoria, July 2014, 134,
Chapter 20 Kinshasa, July 2014, 140,
PART THREE: SEVEN DAYS IN AUGUST 2014,
Chapter 21 Kinshasa, 1–2 August 2014, 151,
Chapter 22 Goma, 2–3 August 2014, 162,
Chapter 23 Goma, 4 August 2014, 172,
Chapter 24 Lake Kivu, 4 August 2014, 178,
Chapter 25 Goma, 4 August 2014, 186,
Chapter 26 Kigali, Rwanda, 5 August 2014, 194,
Chapter 27 Goma, 5 August 2014, 203,
Chapter 28 Gwoza, Borno Province, Nigeria, 5 August 2014, 211,
Chapter 29 Kigali, 6 August 2014, 216,
Chapter 30 Ar-Raqqah, Syria, 6 August 2014, 223,
Chapter 31 White House, Washington, 6 August 2014, 226,
Chapter 32 Goma-Maiduguri, Nigeria, 6–7 August 2014, 231,
Chapter 33 Maiduguri, 04.50, 7 August 2014, 242,
Chapter 34 Maiduguri International, 06.00. 7 August 2014, 246,
Chapter 35 Maiduguri International, 06.29, 7 August 2014, 254,
Epilogue, 257,
Glossary, 259,
CHAPTER 1
SAAF Headquarters Pretoria. May 1983.
The traffic light turned to red. Freddie glanced anxiously in the rear view mirror and was horrified to see a Police van come to a stop behind him. He also noticed the military vehicle parked on the opposite side of the road. He wondered `if it were possible that the security police were onto them?' They were running late and Freddie was feeling the mounting pressure. Sweat prickled in his armpits and he was experiencing a rising temptation to abandon the mission and run. He might well have done so but for Ezekial sitting in the passenger seat beside him. His fellow MK cadre had left the Kombi that was to be their `getaway' vehicle at a nearby parking garage. Freddie looked at Ezekial questioningly. His companion, guessing Freddie's doubts, simply shrugged and said, "Aboo told us we must not fail the cause, we carry on!"
A second quick look in the mirror provided Freddie a little relief as the Boer police did not appear interested in the stolen vehicle, its occupants or their activities. The light changed to green and Freddie Shongwe thought, it would not do to stall the vehicle now! He made sure his indicator was flickering then concentrated on a smooth pull away into the busy intersection. It was almost half past four in the afternoon when the two ANC operatives drove their cream Colt Gallant and almost 50 kilograms of high explosives into Church Street.
A short distance to the East, commuters were making their way onto buses parked in Church Square. The imposing statue of Paul Kruger, President of the South African republic at the time of the second Boer war, stood at the centre of the square. `Oom Paul', as he was affectionately known to the Afrikaner Volk, had been at the forefront of Boer resistance during both wars against the British. The statues of four Boer commandoes, placed on the sides and at the bottom of the plinth completed the structure from which the bearded figure, dressed in Top hat and frock coat, gazed down onto the square's lawns and walkways. Church square was surrounded by imposing and architecturally significant buildings dating from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. One of these buildings was the uniquely turreted Palace of Justice in which Nelson Mandela and ten other senior members of the ANC had been prosecuted during 1963 and 1964. At the end of the `Rivonia trial' as it became known, Mandela, the leader of the ANC and a future President of South Africa, had been sentenced to life imprisonment.
The late afternoon sun lacked any warmth and although the weather had been pleasantly mild at mid-day the mercury was now dropping rapidly. Small grey clouds scudding across the sky and a cold wind heralded the approach of mid-winter. Days were already shorter and the cold early nights when temperatures plunged sixteen and more degrees, often reaching zero and below, were not far off.
Church Street was a major route of ingress and egress for the country's capital city and traffic flow was beginning to build as the clock steadily approached rush hour. Some buildings were already disgorging staff onto the pavements. Parking spaces were filled as quickly as they emptied as cars arrived to collect family members and loved ones. The street would be busy for thirty to forty minutes as the office buildings emptied and their day time occupants returned to their apartments or suburban homes. All in all, it was a typical winter's evening.
Joyce Wilkins was parked in front of the bank building on the South side of Church Street. She was sitting, waiting for her daughter to leave work and watching the building's entrance. She could not help but notice the cream coloured saloon car as it hastily pulled in to park a few spaces from her own vehicle. At that moment her daughter appeared on the pavement, stopping momentarily to chat and laugh with her companion, a pretty young blonde girl. Recognising her mother's parked car, the youngest member of the Wilkins family said goodbye to her new friend and climbed into the waiting passenger seat.
"Who was that?" Joyce asked her daughter as she watched the young blonde woman walk towards two other women standing at the bus stop.
"Anneline Grobelaar, she's new at the bank. She seems like a nice girl. Her father is some big shot in the army!"
Anneline Grobelaar was feeling excited and happy with her life. She had recently celebrated her eighteenth birthday and had just started her first job where she had made new friends. She was about to hitch a ride home with her father who was attending a meeting in the Air force offices. She would normally use the bus along with many of the other office workers but tonight she would be at home earlier than usual. Anneline was looking forward to a long hot bath in preparation for her date with a new admirer, later that evening. She was preoccupied with what was she going to wear when she suddenly felt a gust of cold wind. She shuddered and wrapped the jacket tightly about herself. It was going to be a cold night she thought and that would make a difference to what she chose to wear. A carelessly discarded sweet wrapper, given life by the wind, danced its way across the pavement in front of her as she made her way to the entrance of South African air force headquarters.
Several floors above street level, Brigadier General Piet Grobelaar sat across the table from his air force counterpart. The two men knew each other well and their discussion over the past hour had included...
