The Wonga Coup (19 page)

Mann saw some danger. He and du Toit told few people about their approach to ZDI. Wales claims he was shocked to hear Mann had done a deal there. But Mann later said ZDI was widely recommended. It had a reputation as a reliable and efficient supplier of smaller weapons. Mann recalled du Toit said that its officials ‘would ask few if any questions' and he had ‘done several deals with ZDI previously. Some or all of these had been without proper paperwork.' Mann also thought he had the backing of senior people in government, a misjudgement he repeated elsewhere. ‘Naively I believed that by dealing with ZDI, I was dealing with a very high level and would be fully “covered” in terms of what we had to do,' he later explained.

Mann and du Toit flew the short distance from South Africa to Harare on 8 February. The Zimbabwean capital is a pleasant city if you have fuel and food, and if you can avoid the truncheon-wielding policemen. Most Zimbabweans are articulate, confident and welcoming. Mann later told a Zimbabwean lawyer, Jonathan Samukange, they received ‘the red carpet treatment' on this trip. ‘[We] didn't go through immigration but were taken through by ZDI officials. We were treated like diplomats.' They might have checked into Harare's Wild Geese Lodge, where photos of Mike Hoare, the mercenary, and Roger Moore and Richard Burton (who starred in the film
The Wild Geese
) adorn the walls. Instead Mann pitched up at Cresta Lodge, a hotel chain popular with businessmen. Its bar served dreadful coffee and snacks such as a ‘jungleman's platter' of chicken drumsticks, beef kebabs, samosas and chipolata sausages (for the urban jungleman).
The barman, Paul Tembo, found Mann a ‘good customer … Yes, I still remember his face. He liked to sit here in this lounge.' Mann, says Tembo, was both fond of the local Bollingers Beer and generous with tips.

Mann and du Toit met a man from ZDI called Martin Bird and explained their cover story: they needed weapons to guard a mine near Isiro, a town in north east Congo, near the border with Uganda. Bird's wife was present at the meeting, which Mann found offputting. They had a precise shopping list. Du Toit's notebook shows jottings for ‘7.62 × 39 × 50 Box', ‘7.62 × 54 × 50 Box', ‘PG 7 × 100' and ‘Mort × 60mm × 200'. These refer to rifle ammunition, propelled grenades and mortar bombs. A complete list of rifles, mortars, pistols and more was dictated to the Zimbabwean official. Then, to Mann's surprise, du Toit added a second, larger order of weaponry. He explained it was for rebels in Congo.

Mann was puzzled. He recalled that du Toit ‘said that it would help the EG order, the one I was worried about, in two ways. One: the EG order was very small beer for ZDI. Two: the second order was for [Congolese] rebels.' Du Toit believed that the Zimbabweans ‘would be very interested in making friendly contact with [Congolese] rebels. I asked him why and he replied that Zimbabwe had a major ongoing interest in DRC [Congo] in various ways and in some mining.' Du Toit had contacts in a rebel group in Congo, he said. Though Mann was obliged to pay for all the military goods, the bigger deal would mean he got his weapons fast. Zimbabwe did have a strong interest in Congo, as powerful individuals exploited mineral riches for private gain, backing various groups as occasion arose. Selling guns to rebels, though illegal and destructive, clearly tempted ZDI. Du Toit claimed there were ‘about 1000 rebels in the Katanga region of the DRC who wanted to fight
the Kabila government'. He was evidently referring to the group he (apparently) struck a deal with in 2003, the PDD.

Next they met Colonel Dube, the disdainful boss of ZDI, who showed little interest. He ‘seemed negative', Mann said later. ‘We met in his office. When I tried to explain the cover story as to why we wanted these weapons (we did not feel we could tell the truth) he was not interested. When I tried to show him where the mine was on the map he didn't look.' They were told to return to meet a junior officer, Group Captain Hope Mutize. But du Toit spent some time alone with Colonel Dube. He emerged ‘very pleased', said Mann. ‘He was sure everything would go smoothly. When I asked why he replied that, as he had suggested earlier, Col Dumbe [sic] was very pleased that ZDI and … [the] Zimbabwe intelligence services would gain a direct and positive link to the new DRC rebel grouping.' Mann now felt certain that ‘a) [he was] dealing with the highest possible authorities in Zimbabwe, b) we would get good products and a good service'.

Hope Mutize of ZDI later said: ‘They told me that they did not want any paperwork involved in the transactions', but he insisted. Mutize, du Toit and Mann signed the quotation for the original order of arms the same day. Only du Toit and Mutize signed the other, the shipment for Congolese rebels. Mann's order would cost just over $80,000. That paid for 10 Browning pistols, a supply of 9mm ammunition, 61 Kalashnikov rifles and 45,000 rounds of ammunition. In addition, he would get 20 machine guns, with ammunition, 7 rocket-propelled grenade launchers, plus attack projectiles, and 2 mortar launchers with 80 mortar bombs with high explosives. Finally, 150 offensive hand grenades would be included and 20 Icarus flares. A handwritten note on one copy of the quotation, apparently by du Toit, estimated the weight of the goods: ‘Kit 1' at 4255 kg
(9400 lbs), ‘kit 2' at 6000 kg (13,000 lbs) and unspecified ‘packs' would weigh another 4800 kg (10,600 lbs). Mann later boasted over dinner with Nigel Morgan that he was buying ‘five tons of small-arms to be used for the operation'.

Mann's arsenal was hardly suitable for guards at a mine. Attack grenades, mortar bombs, high explosives and rocket-propelled grenades are assault weapons, while machine guns and rifles can be used for either attack or defence. The Congo mine story deceived nobody. But Mann expected little interest in his shipment, with officials lured by the bigger deal with Congolese rebels. Mann and du Toit promised to return to inspect and collect the cargo a few days later. The total cost of the two orders would be nearly $200,000. A down payment of roughly half that was made soon afterwards by James Kershaw, Mann's assistant, who flew to Harare. The money was not banked (to evade Zimbabwe's strict foreign currency laws) but was placed in a safe.

Investigators in South Africa were later horrified by the arms firm's deal, condemning Zimbabwe's government for being ready to sell to rebels and mercenaries. European arms exporters, African governments and state-owned arms dealers all help fuel wars on the continent. A senior South African investigator says: ‘ZDI were willing to provide this type of weapon to a private individual. Shit. You don't sell that sort of gun [the assault weaponry] to private entrepreneurs. We need to crack down on this sort of deal if we are to stop wars in Africa. Why is ZDI selling this stuff to private individuals? Everyone is closing their eyes to what is happening in Zimbabwe with ZdI. If you want to clean up Africa look at the list of weapons, mortars, rocket propelled grenades, AK-47s. In a democracy you ask that type of question, what will these weapons be used for?'

Mann and du Toit flew on to neighbouring Zambia, to prepare the final details of the coup. They went north to Ndola, a town in a copper-mining region that borders Congo, and met a man ‘who was apparently leader of the Katanga uprising shortly to occur'. Perhaps he represented the PDD rebel group. He was told to expect the weapons du Toit ordered. In exchange his rebels would secure a 2-kilometre/mile-long airstrip at Kolwezi, just over the border in Congo, where Mann and his team could gather to prepare the assault on Equatorial Guinea. The rebel ‘was told he must secure the airstrip at Kolwezi for twenty-four hours so that his equipment could be delivered to him', Mann said later.

‘Pull off a coup and you're a national hero, fail and you're an evil criminal; in business it's the same difference between bankruptcy and making a fortune.'

Jeffrey Archer, ‘The Coup' (1980)

The launch date loomed. Rather than grab Obiang at Malabo airport, the plotters decided to unleash a more conventional attack. Before a bullet could be fired, however, a complicated manoeuvre had to be completed, getting several teams, the weapons and the planes to the right positions. Mann's description to his fellow plotters would have been something like this:

The German, Merz, brings his Antonov from Equatorial Guinea and flies south to Zimbabwe. Harry and I wait in Harare for him, where we load the cargo, turn around and fly north. We aim for the airstrip at Kolwezi. It's a thousand miles from anywhere, in the south of Congo. Nick has an arrangement with a group of rebels in Congo. His pals will secure the landing zone for us at Kolwezi. Now the two DC3s take off in South Africa. Each one takes half the guys and the team leaders. They clear immigration at Polokwane, then fly north and head to the same Congo airstrip in Kolwezi, where we rendezvous. There we split the weapons into two piles.
One lot is for Nick's rebels to play with; we keep the other half for Malabo. Maybe there'll be time to test them. At dusk we all take our Russian bird to the target. We fly overnight and it's game on by dawn …

The final days were ticking down. Mann was in Johannesburg for the last preparations. At some point in February a small celebration was held at the Butcher Shop and Grill, Mann's favourite. Among others, Mark Thatcher was present: it was the last time he saw Mann. He later told a court: ‘The last meeting was in February 2004 at a restaurant in Sandton Square in Johannesburg. He [Mann] had recently been advised that his wife was pregnant and we met to celebrate the news.' It seems a safe bet that the news of the pregnancy was not the main topic of conversation that night, as the plot was due to be launched within days. Asked if he and Mann had ever discussed Equatorial Guinea, Thatcher produced an unconvincing reply. Speaking in a thin, nasal voice, he claimed: ‘To my recollection I discussed Equatorial Guinea with Simon Mann twice. I discussed Equatorial Guinea in the context of the west African region. I have no recollection of talking about anyone in Equatorial Guinea or any Equatorial Guinean.'

Another meeting took place, probably on 17 or 18 February. Various sources say that Henry van der Westhuizen met a man called Bulelani Ngcuka, the head of South Africa's national prosecuting authority (and thus chief of a crack investigative team called the Scorpions), who was known to be close to President Thabo Mbeki. He explained something about the plan in Equatorial Guinea. Ngcuka listened but said little, possibly indicating that any official response would have to come from another part of government. But van der Westhuizen believed he got no warning to stop. Applying the logic
that anything not forbidden is therefore permitted, du Toit and Mann went ahead.

This was the prime moment to attack. Steyl left for the Canary Islands in the King Air plane, ready to escort Severo Moto to his new job. He flew via Equatorial Guinea, dropping off du Toit and a young assistant, Mark Schmidt, in Malabo, then refuelling in Mali. On board, he recalls, were Wales and David Tremain, the quiet accomplice, as well as Alex Molteno, a stunt pilot. They eventually arrived in the Canary Islands on 17 February and checked into the Steigenberger hotel on Gran Canaria. There they met Karim Fallaha, the Lebanese businessman from Asian Trading – the firm that apparently had agreed in November to invest $5 million in Mann's Logo firm. The same day Mann went to Harare, Zimbabwe, intending to inspect his weapons. He told ZdI he would soon collect his order. The officers and footsoldiers in South Africa prepared to board the DC3 planes. All were poised and ready.

At first, the complicated plan worked. Groups took position. Du Toit was in Malabo. Moto reached the Canary Islands. Mann was in Harare. They communicated by satellite and mobile phone. Before dawn on 19 February the footsoldiers, who had been sleeping at Hotel 224, climbed on to buses and drove to Wonderboom airport, near Pretoria. They boarded the two DC3 Dakota planes and flew over the dry veld of northern South Africa to a small airport at Polokwane. They cleared emigration (a flight registration ZS-OJM was used), then aimed for Congo and the Kolwezi rendezvous. The same day the Antonov left Malabo and began its long trip south. Merz was in charge, but the captain of the plane was an Armenian, Ashot Karpetyan.

Now problems arose. Cheap, second-hand and poorly maintained east European aircraft are popular all over Africa.
The problem? They are cheap, second-hand and poorly maintained. The Antonov was soon struggling. It broke a nosewheel while landing in Douala, Cameroon. That was fixed and the Antonov flew a short distance further, this time to Brazzaville in Congo Republic (the smaller of the two Congos). There it suffered again, sucking a bird into an engine. If any of the Armenian crew were superstitious, these mishaps should have made them uneasy. But the battered plane limped on, well behind schedule.

Then came the second blow. Mann had sent a small team to liaise with the Congolese rebels. This group was possibly the PDD, the rebel group with whom du Toit had apparently signed an agreement in May 2003 to provide military goods and advice. South African investigators say Mazanga Kashama, Simon Witherspoon and perhaps a third man ‘were in Kolwezi with the rebels for the first attempt'. They were to tell Mann when the airstrip was ready. But the rebels' bravado did not mean they would really act. There are two versions of what happened next. One holds that the rebels failed to show, leaving Mann's group with nothing to do but report that the airstrip was not secure. Another version holds that some rebels appeared, failed to take the airstrip, then became angry when they heard their weapons were not coming. South African investigators prefer the latter, saying Mazanga and Witherspoon ‘had to run from there, they had to move, the rebels might
moer
them, get cross, because they didn't get their goods'. The Antonov never made it to Harare; instead, it landed in southern Congo, in Lubumbashi, a short distance from Kolwezi and close to the Zambian border.