“Any idea where they’ve gone?”
He had no clue, and he told her so. “None of it makes sense. Juma’s men are hunting rhinos.” He waved at the herd of gray animals and shook his head. “The rhinos are right here. Leaving them behind is the one thing they wouldn’t do. And I can’t get in touch with Paul.”
“Could the men we saw have gone after the other group of rhinos, maybe to help Paul’s team?”
“I doubt it. The other team doesn’t need help. It’s not as though rhinos can fight back. One person could kill them, if he had enough firepower. I can’t—”
Darius spoke in Reed’s ear again. “Men are coming. At least two, moving along the river.”
“Are they the same ones we saw earlier?”
“Checking now.” Reed sent Sarah back to her post, further to the back and away from the oncoming poachers. He knew she realized he’d stationed her as far from danger as possible – not that she could do anything about it. She couldn’t be happy, but Reed was in charge out here. “Confirmed,” Darius said. “Now I see all four.”
“Any chance they’ll see you as they get closer?”
“None. I am deep in the brush.”
“Stay put. Let these guys come to us. Team, we do not move unless the poachers are ready to open fire. I repeat, do not move until I give the signal.”
Everyone copied, then silence returned. Reed’s eyes narrowed; the four poachers were now in view, ambling alongside the river. Their long rifles glinted in the sun, and Reed’s jaw tightened when he spotted one Kalashnikov. Damn automatic weapons. His gun would stay on that guy until he dropped it. If he refused, well, the poacher had made his choice. No way Reed would let him open fire on them. A gun like that could mow down their team in seconds.
Sliding deeper into the bushes, Reed turned back to check on Sarah. She had followed orders and buried herself deep in shadows, hidden from the riverside path below them by thick bushes and several trees. Same as all his team. The poachers might pass within thirty feet of them, but with this much cover it would be pure luck if they spotted them.
Reed turned back to check on the poachers’ progress and saw only empty space. Now where’d they go? His heartbeat quickened until a head poked into view, coming around a curve in the river. They had dropped out of sight as they followed the waterway, their path obscured from his vantage point. When another man appeared, the one carrying the Kalashnikov, Reed slipped the rifle from his shoulder, then leaned against a tree. No better way to get a steady shot in the woods.
Leaves rustled on the hot breeze. All the while, Reed’s gun stayed trained on the Kalashnikov man; he wore long braids tied behind his head and was easy to spot. The poachers kept moving, their lead man now less than two hundred yards downriver from Reed. Nothing seemed amiss in the woodlands and shrubbery, Reed’s team invisible even to him, lost in darker shade patches and thick foliage. One of the rhinos snorted, then rumbled to the river’s edge for a drink. Another turned away from the oncoming poachers, the herd showing no concern for their safety despite the new arrivals. Little did these gentle creatures know how close they were to death.
Only that wouldn’t happen today. Reed took no small measure of pride in keeping the rhinos alive. He glanced at the gray giants; one creature now waded into the river to wallow in the cool water. No, they wouldn’t be gunned down on his watch. Looking back down the path, Reed put Kalashnikov Man’s braided hair between his sights and reached for the radio transmit button. It was almost time. All the poachers were nearly – wait.
Only three men were on the path now. He looked back and forth, but there was no sign of the fourth poacher. His throat went dry. He’d only looked away for a few seconds, hardly enough for the guy to disappear. No way he’d turned back without Reed noticing. Green leaves and brown trees sat to one side of the path, the river on the other. Nothing moved through the trees, no telltale waving limbs or roaming shadows.
His radio came to life. Darius again. “Do you see them?”
“I lost one,” Reed said. “I only see three now.”
“Not the poachers,” came the response. “The rhinos. Look across the river.”
Movement caught his eye across the water. Dark shapes were shaking the tree branches, though whatever it was didn’t rise up high enough for him to see. He looked back to be sure Braided Hair was still visible, and he was. Only when Reed looked back across the gently flowing water could he finally see what was coming, and he nearly dropped his gun. It was another rhino.
Then another. And another. After those, the fifth one came into view, standing across the water from the other four. The radio crackled once more, though he didn’t catch the words. “Say that again.”
“That is the other group of rhinos,” Darius said. “It is the only possibility. There cannot be more than two groups in the area.”
And they’d somehow come together. He’d never seen this many in one place around Mwanza, not in all his years here. Before he could respond, his stomach dropped as all the pieces fell into place. If the other group of rhinos were here, that meant they had human company.
“The other poaching team is across the river.” Reed pulled the mic closer, whispering fiercely. “I repeat, there are other poachers behind those rhinos. Two of them are friendly, but two are real poachers. Hold until we know what we’re up against.”
“So do not move on the poachers we can see?”
“Correct.”
Silence on the airwaves, and then a hesitant voice replied. “They are getting close.”
Reed worried his lip, lowering the rifle to peer through his binoculars across the river. Nothing moved other than the newly arrived rhinos, drinking and generally setting up camp at the water’s edge. Eight additional animals, which meant eight horns for the poachers. No way Paul’s team had lost them, but the other group of poachers would see the four new rhinos any second. With so much money literally sitting across the water, the thugs’ trigger fingers would be itchy. As he studied the far side for any sign of Paul’s team, a nagging thought pushed through his head and screamed for attention.
Just because he couldn’t talk to Paul didn’t mean nobody could. The first poachers they’d planned to stop should have a line of communication. If both poaching groups knew where the other was, the group Reed could see should know the other rhinos were coming. If Reed were hunting in the other group, he’d send a man ahead to where the animals were going to see what waited for them. An advance scout to check for danger. Reed dropped his binoculars.
“We might be surrounded. I think one of the poachers circled around and is behind us. Nobody move.” His heart rate inched up. If there were eyes on them from behind, any movement could give them away. Then all it would take was a radio call from the man to their rear and Reed’s team would find themselves in the middle of a shooting gallery.
Sarah’s voice crackled in his ear. “I see men across the river.” He looked, and found that two men had walked into view barely a hundred yards behind the other rhino group. He didn’t recognize one of them, an older man who moved with assurance. It had to be Wafa Khaled. Behind him was a more familiar face. “It’s Paul,” Sarah finished.
“And there’s Manny,” Reed said as he spotted the two good guys across from them. “Don’t shoot either of them. They’re with us.” Which made this fight eight on six, though right now Reed had eyes on only five of the intruders. And what was the guarantee Wafa had mentioned to Paul, assurance their hunt would succeed? “Same orders stand,” Reed said. “Don’t open fire unless they start shooting rhinos. I’m going to find the missing poacher from our side.”
He took a deep breath. Things had changed, were threatening to spiral beyond his comfort zone. Not out of control, not yet, but damn close. Turning around slowly, he knelt and squinted into the woodlands; shafts of rising sunlight cut through the darkness. Hopefully the man behind them, if he was even back there, would move to the ridge line running above Reed’s location and lie low behind a tre
e, one big enough to ward off both stray bullets and startled rhinos. Reed grimaced. The guy was probably coming down the hill now, about to stumble across six very exposed people out to stop him.
His earpiece buzzed to life. “Everyone has stopped moving,” Darius said. “All the poachers. The old man across the river is using a radio.”
Movement caught Reed’s eye before he could respond. Dust mushroomed into a small cloud, a ball bouncing up to clunk off a tree and ricochet back up the hill. A dark, matte-green ball.
“Get down!” Reed dove to the ground a heartbeat before the grenade exploded, rolling behind the nearest tree for cover. Gunfire peppered the hillside around him. Branches and leaves raining down from the grenade blast obscured his vision. More gunshots boomed, some from nearby and others from across the water.
Shouting came from behind him. He looked back at a poacher running downhill at full speed, blasting his rifle with each step. Rhino cries mixed with humans shouting as Reed dug for his sidearm, pulling the pistol out and firing in one swing. One shot struck home, then another, and the racing poacher collapsed, tumbling and twisting until his body slid beneath a bush and stopped.
The chatter of a Kalashnikov grabbed his ear. The poacher with the braided hair stood raking the woods with random bursts, though it didn’t stem the incoming tide of fire from Reed’s team. Reed shouldered his rifle and took aim, only to have the man move out of sight, crouching near shrubs alongside the trail. A bullet splintered the tree branch by Reed’s head and he ducked down.
“Are you okay?” The sound of Sarah’s voice caught Reed off guard. He twisted to find her kneeling behind him. “I lost sight of you when the grenade went off.”
“I’m fine.” Reed pointed across the river. “Paul and Manny are gone. Did you see where they went?”
She looked over at the same empty landscape Reed saw. Nobody in sight, though gunshots came from the direction of the trees. Whoever was shooting over there didn’t have a bead on any of their team. Unless Paul and Manny were firing at the poachers.
“One of our men is dead,” Sarah said. “So is another of theirs on this side.”
“Which leaves two of them across the river, and two over here.” And no sign of Manny or Paul. “You stay here,” he said. “I’ll circle around to get above the poachers on our side.”
“What if they start shooting the rhinos?” Sarah asked. “The animals ran downriver, but you can still see them.”
“Let’s keep the poachers busy with us.”
“I’ll head down toward the animals,” she said. “If anyone starts shooting that way, I can handle it.” She gripped the rifle Reed had given her at camp.
“Stay behind a tree up here,” Reed said. “Once I move out, nobody will know there’s anyone this far up the hillside.”
“You know the good thing about this?” She pointed back and forth between them both. “Between the two of us?” Then she grinned. “You can’t tell me what to do.” With that, she turned and sprinted toward the rhinos.
Reed opened his mouth, then thought better of it. More automatic gunfire filled the air. Reed tried and failed to get a line of sight, then army-crawled through the brush, headed downhill toward the river. He moved from tree to tree, using that cover to keep stray bullets from finding his backside. Then, jumping to his feet and moving quickly, he nearly fell over a body lying beside a bush. One of his guys, a police officer sent by Nixon Ereng. Not the one Sarah had seen go down.
Four poachers left against six good guys. Six of them, but really only three, with Sarah guarding the rhinos and both Paul and Manny missing. And one of those bad guys had a Kalashnikov. Reed covered his earpiece, screaming into the microphone. “Come in. If you’re out there, tell me.”
Sarah checked in first, followed by the two remaining men on his team. Their group was spread out along the path, hidden by trees and brush, but taking heavy fire from at least two gunmen across the river as well as the two surviving poachers on Reed’s side of the water. If he could get to the man with the braided hair and take him out, gaining that automatic rifle would turn the tide. Too bad he had no shot, and a quick check with his men revealed both of them were pinned down too.
“They are retreating.” One of his men reported in. “The two poachers on our side, they are running.”
“Back down the path?” Reed asked.
“No, across the river.” The Kalashnikov barked. Reed looked up from cover to see one poacher running across the river while Braided Hair provided covering fire. “When the shooter goes, I can—”
The voice cut off. “Come in.” Reed let go of the transmit button. No response. “Repeat, come in.”
A new voice came into his ear. Darius. “He is down, Reed.”
Reed cursed. Only three of them left on this side. With Paul and Manny unaccounted for, he didn’t have much choice. “We need to fall back. There are three of us, and three of them over there.” Braided Hair raced across the river as he spoke. Reed loosed several shots, all missing the man, who beelined across the water as though guided by the gods, turning a split second before Reed fired each time. “Make that four. Come to my location and we’ll regroup.”
“Why would they cross the river?” Darius asked. Reed didn’t have an answer, and Darius spoke again. “They stopped shooting.” Of course, as soon as he said that, a pair of shots whizzed across the water. Nothing like what they’d been facing, however. “Okay, I will come to you.”
Oppressive, heavy silence returned to the savanna; the only sounds now were the rhinos twisting and turning in the water. Not quite panicked, but close. For some reason known only to them, the animals hadn’t run, instead congregating downriver. Sarah must be somewhere near them.
“Sarah, are you hurt?”
Her response came at once. “Quiet.” Reed didn’t know what to say, so he followed orders until she spoke again. In the interim Darius slid noiselessly in beside him.
“Do you hear that?” Sarah asked.
Reed knew better than to ask. He held a finger to his lips and whispered to Darius. “Listen.”
“For what?” Darius asked.
“Just listen.” Reed leaned forward, though he didn’t know why. Whatever Sarah was getting at didn’t catch his ear. He looked at Darius, who merely shook his head.
“We don’t hear anything,” Reed said into the radio. “What is it?”
“It’s getting closer.”
That’s when he caught it. Amid the strained silence, a noise that touched his chest as well as his ears. Only one kind of machine made that noise.
“A helicopter,” he said. Then he realized why the poachers had crossed. “It’s coming right for us.”
The deep whump-whump of metal blades slicing the air beat Reed’s chest, his heart pounding harder with every breath. Eyes toward the sky, he forgot about the poachers across from them. Until they started shooting again.
“Down!” he yelled, pulling Darius to the ground beside him. “Do you see them?” Ignoring the rapidly increasing sound of rotors approaching, Reed looked for and failed to spot muzzle flashes.
“None of the bullets were close,” Darius said.
Reed took a second to listen. Braided Hair was blasting away with his automatic rifle, and there were other shots sounding across the water. But Darius was right. No high-pitched whine of lead whizzing close by. No puffs of dirt or splinter showers, signs of a close miss. All of it was happening well to either side of them.
“It’s like they’re missing on purpose,” Reed said.
“Why would they do that?”
Then it hit him. “They’re herding us. Like cattle.” Darius frowned. “The poachers don’t know exactly where we are. But they know we’re here, and they want to keep us from running.” Even then shots zoomed far overhead. Useless for hitting them, though it would keep him from running over the hilltop. The helicopter’s rumble turned to a roar, then it all fell in to place. “Oh, shit.” Reed lifted his rifle and fired across the river. �
��Start shooting,” he told Darius. “They’re keeping us here so the helicopter can mow us down. Shoot and be ready to run.”
Darius didn’t argue. His gun along with Reed’s stemmed the incoming tide of bullets. Reed stood to run, looked overhead, and froze. A metal bird roared into sight, blades cutting the air. The helicopter was here.
A man leaned out and sprayed the hillside with automatic weapon fire. Close, but not on target. Reed took the chance to look across the river. Braided Hair must not have realized he was standing in plain view, watching the helicopter hover and fire into the wooded area, because he didn’t move when Reed lifted his rifle, didn’t budge when Reed took aim. Reed pulled the trigger and he fell out of sight, a bullet in his chest. At least the Kalashnikov was out of play.
“Run,” Reed shouted. “Keep moving, keep firing.”
“Can we shoot it down?” Darius asked.
Reed thought about lying. He didn’t. “Hitting it isn’t the hard part. It’s doing damage. Helicopters are tougher than you think.” He pointed away from where Sarah guarded the rhinos. “I’m headed that way. When the pilot moves around to give the shooter an angle on me, you’ll have a shot at him.”
Reed took off, firing as he moved. Cracks came to life on the protective bubble encircling the chopper, superficial damage at best. Despite that, it got the pilot’s attention; the big bird twisted around to give the passenger a better shooting angle. Trees covered Reed as he moved, a green canopy thick enough to keep the bullets off course. But the woodlands ended ahead, leaving him exposed with nothing but sky overhead. He could chance it, running in the open until he made it to the next group of trees. But he jammed the brakes and skidded to a halt. Only a fool would take his chances on open ground against automatic weapons.
Shots kept coming from behind him, though it wasn’t Darius firing. These were from further down, closer to Sarah. She must be doing her part, trying to distract the chopper from homing in on its target. Then Reed heard more guns firing, two at least, and hope burst to life in his chest. He pressed the transmit button on his radio. “Sarah, who else is firing?”
The Turn Series Box Set Page 51