The Turn Series Box Set

by Andrew Clawson

  “A man takes what he wants,” Manny said, and then shrugged. “Here the man with the will to live does not die. You do not want to die.” Manny lifted his bound hands to indicate the walls around them. “You took this place. You can take more.”

  For the first time that night, a sense of calm spread over Juma like the warmth of a strong drink. Killing these men would show strength, yes, but not the kind of strength he needed. This man, this Manny – he possessed true strength. It lived inside him. The kind of strength to not only take power in Mwanza, but to keep it.

  “Are these men your friends?” Juma waved at the other five captives.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said, a grin cutting across his face. “I like you, Manny. And I want you to work for me.”

  Chapter 6

  Outside Mwanza, Tanzania

  On most days, a blaring alarm drew Reed from his slumber, a supposedly cheerful ditty he’d grown to loathe. But he supposed even Van Morrison would get that way. And he really liked Van the Man.

  Today, however, he awoke to the fragrant scent of brewing coffee. With a soft breeze moving through his cabin, Reed slipped through the screened front door, stretched and headed to the adjacent cabin, where he found Sarah waiting with two cups of coffee and a welcoming smile.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Thought you could use this.”

  “Always.” He sipped, eyes narrowed against another beautiful African sunrise. His trio of dogs had followed him outside. Rico and Cinder plopped onto the porch, well under the roof’s shade. Doc, as always, sat patiently at Reed’s side. “Did you see Paul?” Reed asked. Ever since his friend had suggested he could get intel on who had killed the elephants, Reed had been on edge. Sitting around waiting for information drove him crazy. Even though diving into the dark world of poaching without a solid plan was nuts, he had to resist an urge to go after the poachers on his own.

  “No, I haven’t seen him,” Sarah said. “I’m sure he’ll tell you when he hears anything.”

  They drank their coffee in silence, the camp showing growing signs of life as the sun rose. A typical, understated Kimble Safaris start to the day.

  “It’s hard to imagine this kind of place when you live in New York,” Sarah said. “Or live anywhere in the U.S., for that matter.” She looked at him over the rim of her mug. “What about Montana? You must have had lots of peace and quiet there.”

  “Not like this,” Reed said. “Half the time it was freezing. We had lots of hills, too. Not mountains, but not this flat.” He waved a hand over the browns and soft greens stretching endlessly around them. “And more trees. A nice place to be from. Either way, it’s no Africa.”

  “When’s the last time you went back?”

  Reed worried his lip. How long had it been? “A while,” he finally ventured. “Three years, I’d say.” He thought some more. “Yes. Three years.”

  “You haven’t seen your family in three years?” She wagged a finger at him. “I bet your mother isn’t too happy with you.”

  “She calls to tell me about it every week,” he said. “The last time I went back was for her knee surgery. Tore a ligament when she was hiking and had to get it repaired.” An image of his mom up and about two days post-surgery, hobbling around to harass everyone in sight, came to mind. Reed chuckled. “The woman never runs out of energy. One week with her is enough to fuel me for years.”

  “They don’t come to visit? I wouldn’t pass up a free place to stay in Tanzania.”

  “If it was up to her, they’d be here all the time. My father keeps her at bay.”

  Sarah started to speak, then stopped. Reed watched as a Land Rover rolled past, dripping water after being washed. The car was out of sight before she spoke again. “That’s a loaded comment.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “It’s just that my father has opinions on what I do. As I told you before, he runs the family business. He’s used to being the boss.”

  “It’s more than one business, right? Shipping of all kinds, if I remember correctly.”

  “Land, air and sea. He has it all covered.” Reed nodded to the camp at large. “This isn’t his idea of a proper operation.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “How far out are you booked?” He told her six months, give or take. “That’s tremendous,” Sarah said. “Other guides would love to be half as busy.”

  He didn’t say anything. She was right. “What’s his deal?” Sarah asked when he didn’t respond.

  “His problem is that I’m working here, not in Montana.”

  She leaned against the porch railing. “You started a successful business.” Now she looked up from studying the wooden boards beneath their feet. “I think it’s admirable, striking out on your own and succeeding.”

  “He’s more disappointed than anything.” Reed scratched his stubble with a thumb. “My father always has a plan. For everything, including me.” Before he could go off the cliff of his father’s feelings, Paul appeared from across the camp and jogged over to his rescue.

  “Boss, I talked with Manny.” For once he wasn’t smiling. “There has been trouble in Mwanza.”

  Thoughts of his father vanished. “Trouble?”

  “A gun battle between two gangs,” Paul said. “Manny is alive, but things have changed.”

  “What things?”

  Paul took his phone out of a pocket. “You should hear it from him. I am calling him back now. You can listen.”

  “Will he talk to you if he knows I’m here?” Paul nodded, so Reed walked back toward his cabin door. “Come inside. You too,” he told Sarah. “Did he say anything about who killed the elephants?”

  “Much more than that,” Paul said as they sat around a table. “Many gangsters in Mwanza did not live through the night.”

  Reed shut the door before dialing Manny’s number and putting the phone on speaker. Three, four, five rings. No answer. Reed drummed his fingers on the table. “Come on,” he grumbled. “Pick up.”

  The ringing cut off. “Paul?”

  “I’m here,” Paul said. “With my boss. The man I told you about.” Silence. Everyone leaned closer to the phone. “Manny, are you there?”

  “I am.”

  Reed cleared his throat. “Manny, my name is Reed.” Manny didn’t reply. “Paul said you wanted to tell us about last night.” When the silence stretched on again, Reed kept talking. “I’m not a cop, Manny. I don’t want any trouble for you. I want to stop people from poaching elephants. Anything else I couldn’t care less about.”

  Manny finally replied. “Paul says you are okay. But talking to you is a big risk. I could be killed.”

  “I know,” Reed said. “I’m grateful for any help you can give.”

  “You can trust us,” Paul said again. “What happened last night?”

  “A group of men attacked my boss,” Manny said. “They killed many of us. I was lucky not to be one of them.”

  He told a story straight off the big screen. Gangsters shooting other gangsters, a nighttime assault on a warehouse, and defeated men swearing new loyalty to save their skins. Inside information, the kind Reed needed if he ever wanted to stop Mwanza’s poachers.

  “Who attacked your boss?” Reed asked. “Any idea why he did it?”

  “For money, I am sure. Also because my boss was new. He did not yet have a strong grip on the city.”

  “How did your boss come to be on top?” Reed asked.

  Manny explained how his recently deceased leader used to be a lieutenant, working under a woman.

  A woman? “I don’t know any female gang bosses.” Their anti-poaching task force kept tabs on the criminal underworld players in Mwanza. None were women.

  “I never saw her,” Manny said. “I think she worked for the government. That is how she kept everyone in line. I do know she is gone, and my boss took her place.”

  Government minister? The hair on Reed’s arms stood up. “What else did she do?”

  “No one knows,” Manny said
. “She was very powerful. There were stories that could be true, or just lies.” His voice lowered a bit. “The only thing I can say is I know a man who crossed her. He stole money – not much, but it belonged to her. He disappeared; we thought he ran to a different town. Then we found parts of his body around the city. It was a message from her.”

  Reed’s brow furrowed. It sounded like a ruthless woman he’d once known, a corrupt government minister who had died not long ago. “So she’s dead, and now your boss is dead, which means a new guy is in charge.”

  “Juma Cheyo is his name.”

  “Did he try to form an alliance with your boss? Maybe something that went bad?”

  “No,” Manny said. “They were not friends, and there is another woman. I think she is part of the reason Juma attacked last night. She is a local. Her brother used to be part of our crew, but he died.”

  “Did Juma have a thing for your boss’s girl?” Reed asked. “Wouldn’t be the first time a guy killed for that reason.”

  “I suspect so. And now he has her. I think she is happy.”

  Interesting, but Juma Cheyo’s love affair wasn’t going to save the elephants. “Did your crew poach?” Reed asked.

  Manny didn’t hesitate. “Yes. It is one way to make money. But you do not have to worry about them poaching anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “All the men who knew how to track animals are dead. Except for me.”

  Reed’s teeth ground together. Deep breath. Easy. Losing this source helped nothing. “Any lowlife can kill elephants. Juma Cheyo will find more poachers by tonight.”

  “Killing them is not the difficult part,” Manny said. “Finding them is.”

  Manny had a point. Tracking elephants took skill and local knowledge. “You’re right. Finding them is the hard part. Are you sure you’re the only guy left who can do that?”

  Manny confirmed he was. “Juma already asked if any of us can track elephants. He says we must find ivory, and soon. I am to help get it.”

  Paul covered the phone. “If he tells us when they are poaching, we can stop them.”

  “As long as we don’t get Manny arrested or killed,” Reed said. “Catching these guys in the act will put the brakes on Juma’s poaching. And cut off most of his cash supply.”

  “Then you can take him down,” Sarah said.

  “That’s the plan.” Reed pointed to the phone. “Ask him more about the poaching.”

  Paul took his hand off the phone again and questioned Manny from several angles, though it soon became apparent Manny knew little else about Juma’s plans for turning wildlife into revenue.

  “Paul, we are friends.” The way Manny said it made Reed’s ears perk up. “I have no love for Juma Cheyo. He killed men I knew and worked with.”

  The men I knew and worked with. Not friends.

  “Juma has plans,” Manny continued. “I heard him talking today.”

  “Do they involve killing more animals?” Paul knew what Reed wanted to ask. They were on the same page. “If that is true, we must know.”

  “Not killing animals. It is about the gold mine outside of town.”

  A question nagging at the back of Reed’s head buzzed for attention. What if this was a trap? Reed had never heard of Juma Cheyo until today, but that didn’t mean the guy couldn’t want him dead. “Manny, why did Juma hire you? You were trying to kill him.”

  “He needed men. Too many of his died. You cannot run Mwanza alone.” Manny’s voice stayed calm, though his words came with power. “After the fight, I did not show fear or weakness even when I thought he would kill me. He knows a man like me is valuable. I can help him.”

  Plausible. Band together all the survivors and suddenly Juma had a crew. Men who needed to be paid and housed. “Do you want to kill Juma for what he did?”

  “I want to stay alive.”

  That didn’t surprise Reed one bit. Manny had made it this far in life. He was a survivor. Life had dealt him a poor hand, and even though he had taken a different path than Paul, Manny still drew breath. The guy likely couldn’t care less who gave the orders. He simply wanted to make it another day.

  “Fair enough,” Reed said. “If you work with us, I won’t get you killed. That’s a promise.”

  “A promise will not fill my wallet.”

  Here it comes. Of course he wanted to be paid. Fair enough, considering the risk. Juma Cheyo would shoot him on the spot if he found out Manny was talking with them. “How much do you want?”

  Manny barked a laugh devoid of humor. “I do not want your money.” Reed frowned at Paul, who shrugged. “It is the gold mine I want to talk about.”

  “You said Juma has a plan for the gold mine,” Paul said. “What is it?”

  “You must promise I can keep any money I get from the gold mine. That is how I will be paid.”

  Bold, brazen, and certainly illegal. A challenge came unbidden to Reed’s lips. He opened his mouth. Then he stopped. And thought. Manny had a price, sure. Gold to save animals. The more he considered it, the less Reed decided he cared about Manny stealing gold. “I won’t help you loot the mine,” Reed said. “But I won’t stop you, either. As long as no one gets hurt.”

  “No one will be hurt. Juma plans to take it over without shedding blood. When you take him down for poaching, I can keep what has been stolen.”

  The world wasn’t black and white, Reed knew. If he wanted to get things done, to save animals, his agreement would be made in the gray areas. “Deal. What’s the plan for Mwanza’s gold mine?”

  “Juma Cheyo wants to take it over,” Manny said. “That is what one of his men told me.”

  “Why are you involved? You’ve only worked for him since last night.”

  “Most of his men died,” Manny said. “There are not enough of them left – he cannot succeed without our help.”

  “How does Juma think he can take over a gold mine?” Reed asked. “He barely has a dozen men, half of whom wanted to kill him last night. Does he know the security at that place? The company won’t just hand him control of the operations.”

  Manny laughed that humor-free bark again. “It does not matter who owns the mine. All that matters is who takes the gold out. And that is done by the union.”

  Reed knew a crazy idea when he heard it, knew this couldn’t work and shouldn’t be possible. But in a town like his, it was. The entire mine was unionized, men who worked hard to support their families and who wouldn’t give up one of the few stable blue-collar jobs around here without a fight. Some of his safari employees had relatives who went deep underground every day, pulling this wealth from the earth.

  Reed scratched his chin. “So if you control the union, you control the gold. Skimming some off the top is easy. Unless management has someone looking over every shoulder all day long, there’s no telling how much of the mined gold actually makes it into their accounts.”

  “It would not be hard,” Manny said.

  Reed’s eyes narrowed. “It’s all yours if you help us stop the poaching. Tell me how you find the animals. Do you only go for elephants?”

  “Elephants are the easiest for money. They are everywhere. We do not have to search far for them. People tell us where to find them, and they do not even realize it.”

  “You have informers who track the herds?”

  “Social media. A picture is loaded, and this tells the world where elephants are. All we do is follow the postings. They do the work, and we show up. Easy money.”

  Reed’s stomach soured. How many pictures from his safaris ended up online, shared by guests with their friends and family? Probably hundreds, every single trip. How many of those led poachers directly to the wildlife? Photos that should spread the word of Tanzania’s natural beauty, bring in more tourists and give locals less reason to poach. “You know you’re killing your own country, don’t you?”

  “It will not be my country if I am dead,” Manny said. “I do what I must.”

  An argument Reed couldn’t wi
n. Every day people like Manny fought to survive. Poaching offered a lifeline to the struggling, desperate people like him just trying to stay alive. “What can you tell me about Juma’s crew? Does he have a second-in-command, or anybody else I should know about?”

  “Most of them died. More trusted men are needed, and if I am careful, I can be one of those men. Then I can help you. But first I must prove myself.”

  “Don’t let that involve poaching,” Reed warned. “As soon as you hear anything about it, tell Paul. We’ll go from there, and we won’t get you arrested.”

  Manny agreed to let them know of any developments before he clicked off. Reed stood from the table, his back a little straighter. They were finally playing offense instead of defense. Time to take the fight to them.

  “Good work, Paul,” Reed said as he and Sarah headed out. “Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

  “I will.” Paul remained seated, watching as Reed went outside, the screen door clanging shut behind him. He waited until his boss’s footsteps faded, then counted to thirty. Just to be sure. Then he picked up the phone and dialed. “Manny, this is Paul.”

  “What is wrong?” Manny’s words came out fast.

  “I need a favor.”

  “I am already doing you a favor.”

  “I promise, this will be easy.” Paul lowered his voice. “You said Juma Cheyo needs men.”

  “Yes. If he is to control what our crew owns – the girls, guns, all those things – he needs more men.”

  “I know a man who can help. If I send him, will you get him in to your crew?”

  Manny didn’t respond for a long time. “Why would you do that?” he eventually asked. “This is not a good life. I do it because I have no choice.”

  “This man is different. He wants to help us. And help you stay alive.”

  Manny grunted. “Can you trust him?” Paul said he could. “I do not know.” Paul let Manny think about it in silence. “If you think he is up to the challenge, then I will do it. For you.”