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Weekly Contest #365
They asked me afterward why I left the South African Military Police for cash-in-transit jobs in Johannesburg. Most expected me to say money. It was responsibility. In the army, a bad decision could pass through ranks before it reached the man who paid for it. In a cash truck, responsibility sat in the cab beside you. That was what I believed before I drove Vehicle Twelve with Gideon van der Linde. Everyone at Fortis knew his ledger. Fifteen years. Three major hijackings. Boksburg. Alberton. Meyerton. Nine dead operators. One survivor. No in...
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