“The lake. It’s a good start. Kruger, we need to plan our route so we avoid patrols.”
Kruger pulled out a GPS and checked the map. “We’re here.” He stabbed a finger at the map. “We can use this creek line to minimize the risk of hitting a patrol. They'll be sticking to the vehicle tracks.”
Bishop folded the map and slid it inside his shirt. “I like it. Let's get moving.”
As the local tracker and Kogo led the way Kruger hung back, took out his own satellite phone, and sent a text message.
***
THE SANDPIT, ABU DHABI
“Vance, we've got a hit,” Flash yelled from the top of the staircase inside PRIMAL's Abu Dhabi headquarters.
“Where is he?” Vance slammed the refrigerator shut and stormed out of the kitchen.
“Kruger just sent a text message over his sat phone. Looks like they’re in Kenya.”
“Do we have an open line of communications?”
“No, the phone’s switched off now.”
Vance climbed the stairs and followed Flash into the intel room. “What are they up to?”
Flash returned to his terminal and showed Vance the message. “Check this out. Kruger sent a grid reference to someone in vicinity of North Luangwa National Park. I bet it’s the ranger Bishop was hanging out with, Dominic Marks. According to the message the boys are hunting elephants near the lake at Tsavo East National Park.”
“And why would they be doing that?” asked Vance.
“It must have something to do with tracking down Mr. Mamba Mboya.”
“Find out who Kruger messaged.”
“Roger.” Flash’s fingers danced over the keyboard.
Vance glanced at his watch. “I'm going to head across to the hospital and replace Tariq.” The two of them were taking turns watching over Saneh. “Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
As he walked downstairs his phone vibrated with an incoming call. “Speak of the devil.” It was Tariq.
“Good afternoon, Vance.”
“Tariq, I'm on my way in now.”
“Doctor Edwards wants to schedule a meeting with us this afternoon. We're running out of time.”
Vance sighed. “OK, I'll be there within the hour.” He stopped in the kitchen and contemplated pouring a scotch.
“Hey, what's up, big man?” Ice walked into the kitchen with a pistol holstered on his hip.
“I’m about to head to the hospital. How’s the training going?” Ice had set up an airsoft range in one half of the villa’s garage and had been spending hours practicing weapon manipulation with his robotic hand.
“Not bad, I was wondering if I could come to the hospital with you.” He took off the pistol belt and placed it on the bench.
Vance shook his head. “We're trying to keep a low profile, brother. Better if you stayed here with the team.”
“Yeah, OK, well if you need to talk I'm always here for you.”
“For sure.” Vance swallowed hard as he grabbed a set of keys from the bench and strode toward the door.
“Oh and Vance, when it comes time to pull Bishop out of the shit, I'm good to go.”
“Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Knocking off a dirt-bag poacher shouldn’t be too difficult for Bishop and Kruger.”
“We both know what Bish is like.”
He managed a smirk. “Yep, goddamn shit magnet.”
***
BAREEN HOSPITAL, ABU DHABI
Vance walked slowly along the spotless white corridors as he searched for Doctor Edwards’ office. He found it five doors down, exactly where a pretty young nurse had directed him. Pausing with his hand raised to knock on the door he contemplated turning and walking away; leaving the decision that needed to be made to Tariq. In all his years as a paramilitary operative then as the Director of Operations for PRIMAL he had never faced a dilemma like this. Life and death decisions were part of his day-to-day routine but that hadn’t prepared him. His shoulders dropped as he knocked.
“Come in.”
He pushed the door open and nodded to the man behind his desk. “Hey, Doc.”
“Vance.” Edwards directed him to take the seat next to Tariq.
The Arab rose and they shook hands.
“Tariq, good to see you, brother.” Vance sat and placed his clenched fists on his thighs. “So what's the prognosis?” He didn't really need to ask. The grave expression on Doctor Edwards’ face said it all.
“Gentlemen, Saneh's situation has begun to deteriorate. In the last twenty-four hours her brain activity has slowed. I'm afraid we're losing her.”
Vance sighed. “What about the baby?”
“I've been consulting with a colleague of mine who is the hospital’s leading obstetrician. We concur that as long as we keep Saneh's body alive the child could continue to develop normally. But, there will be an increased risk of complications.”
“What kind of complications?” asked Tariq.
“The child could be either mentally or physically impaired. There is also an increased likelihood that Saneh's body might terminate the pregnancy.”
“And the alternative?”
“We begin a revolutionary program to stimulate Saneh's brain.”
“But there will be an impact on the child.”
Doctor Edwards nodded. “The risk remains that, as a side effect of some of the drugs, her body will terminate the pregnancy. This is uncharted territory, I don't know of any other cases where–”
“Can't we use other drugs?” interrupted Vance.
“We can but the chance of recovery is significantly reduced.” Edwards placed his hand on a document on the desk. “These are the release papers authorizing the treatment. I'm going to give you a few minutes to discuss the options.” He rose and left Vance and Tariq in the office.
“I never thought I’d have to make a decision like this,” said Vance.
“You still haven't been able to reach Bishop?”
He shook his head. “No, he's offline still.”
“And we've run out of time.”
“Yes, we both know what needs to be done.”
Tariq's eyes were glassy as he rose from his chair. “We always knew there would be times like this.”
“Seems to be a lot of them recently, bud.”
Tariq placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re doing the right thing.”
“I know.”
***
TSAVO EAST NATIONAL PARK, KENYA
Bishop held up his hand signaling the hunting party to halt. Crouching in a thick patch of grass he surveyed the terrain ahead.
Five hundred yards away a meager herd of elephants foraged on a floodplain next to a shallow lake. Upwind, the majestic beasts were oblivious to their presence. Bishop grimaced as he spotted the massive tusks on the bull. Kogo would want them for sure.
He took binoculars from his vest and scanned the trees beyond the floodplain. There was no sign of human activity.
“What's the plan?” asked Kruger kneeling alongside.
He continued scanning the bush. “They should be here. Dom said he would pass on our message to the Kenyan rangers.”
“Well they're not, so what are we going to do?”
The grass rustled behind them and Bishop glanced over his shoulder to see Kogo approach.
“What’s going on?”
“We're waiting,” said Bishop.
“What for? I can see the big bull. Shoot him, we cut off the tusks, and then we go.”
“You can run out there if you want.” Bishop fixed him with a glare. “Or we can wait and make sure we're not the only ones watching.”
The poacher swallowed and gripped his weapon tight. “No, you're right. We should take our time.”
Bishop wondered if Kogo had been there the night Saneh was shot. Had he been the man who escaped in the four-wheel drive with Mamba? He imagined dragging his knife across the poacher’s throat. Instead he turned his attention back to his binoculars and the floodplain. After a
few minutes he turned to Kruger. “How close do you need to get?”
“At least another three hundred yards.”
He looked back at Kogo. “You and the tracker wait here. Once we make the kill come forward and take the tusks. Don't move until we shoot. Got it?”
“Yes, of course.”
Kruger unslung the double-barreled hunting rifle and cracked open the breech. He checked both the high-powered cartridges and snapped it shut. Tucking the weapon under his arm he slung the R1. “I'm good to go.”
“OK, you're on point. I'll hang back a few yards and cover you if needed.”
They left the others at the edge of the floodplain and stalked through the grass toward the elephants. “Where the hell are they?” he whispered to himself.
“What are we doing, Bish?” Kruger hissed as he crouched behind a clump of grass only a few hundred yards from the herd, well within range.
A shout sounded from their flank startling the elephants. Bishop turned and spotted figures emerging from the far tree line. There were at least a dozen green-uniformed men swarming toward them. “Right on time.” He flicked off the safety and fired a burst over the men. They disappeared as they dove to the ground.
“Let's get the hell out of here. Covering!” Bishop fired off a few more shots as Kruger dashed past him. Out the corner of his eye he saw the elephants fleeing from the gunshots. “Run, run, run,” he murmured as he fired again. When Kruger's weapon barked he scrambled to his feet and dashed past. They repeated the process until they reached the spot where Kogo waited.
“What the fuck is going on?” The poacher cowered in the long grass clutching his weapon.
“Where's the tracker?” Bishop asked as he slid in next to him.
Gunfire crackled through the air as Kruger joined them.
“He ran... As soon as the firing started, he ran.”
“Fucking chickenshit.” Kruger fired off more rounds. “There's a crap load of these guys, ja. We need to keep moving.” He gave Bishop a nod and grabbed Kogo by the shoulder. “We'll cover you, OK?”
The poacher’s eyes were wide. “Yes, of course.”
“Now go.”
As Kogo took off through the bush Kruger turned and fired well-aimed shots either side of him. “Run you little cocksucker.”
“Go, go, go!” Bishop yelled.
They sprinted through the bush after Kogo firing their weapons into the ground as they ran. Bishop was amazed at how fast the poacher moved. They covered half a mile in a matter of minutes.
“That's far enough,” yelled Bishop as they skidded down a dry streambed. He glanced around; there was still no sign of the tracker.
“Are they going to catch us?” Kogo stammered. “If they hand us over to the Kenyan Wildlife Service we’ll end up in jail.”
“No one's going to get us,” Bishop snapped. “We're almost at the car.” He turned to Kruger who covered their rear. “Let’s be careful, they may be staking it out.”
“Roger, you take point. I'll bring up the rear.”
Bishop led them through the scrub, his eyes peeled for any of the rangers. The Land Cruiser was where they had left it, parked off the road at the edge of the park.
“Get in, let's go.” As Bishop yanked open the passenger door he heard the roar of an engine. “Shit.” He stepped out onto the track and spotted an olive drab truck speeding toward them. “Kruger, you’ve got the wheel.” He aimed at the approaching vehicle. Firing low he put five shots into the engine block. Steam and smoke exploded from under the hood.
Turning he ran back and leaped in the Land Cruiser. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” He slammed the door shut as Kruger launched the four-wheel drive through the bushes and out onto the sandy track. They fish-tailed down the road, the big V8 roaring.
“Thank God,” said Kogo from the back seat.
Bishop glanced over his shoulder to see the poacher staring out the rear window at the smoking truck.
“You're not going to back out of the cash are you, Kogo?”
The poacher turned and shook his head vigorously. “No, you'll get your money. You saved me from prison... or worse.”
“Good, make sure you let Mamba know because we need more work.”
“I will.”
“Guys,” Kruger interrupted. “Check this out.”
Bishop squinted through the windshield and spotted a dark skinny figure running along the road in front of them; it was the tracker. “You want to pick him up, Kogo?”
“No, he ran like a startled gazelle. He can keep running, we have no need for him now.”
Bishop gave Kruger a slight nod and they sped past the man leaving him in a cloud of dust. “You're a ruthless bastard.”
“You haven't met Mamba yet.”
“When is he back in town?”
“He should be back now.”
“Will he have work for us?”
“Maybe later tonight. I’ll call you this afternoon with the details.”
“If you hand over the cash then we're keen, ja.” replied Bishop. “But, first we get the money, then we do the next job. We're not running a charity.”
“Yes of course, I'll talk to Mamba.”
“Good, I'm looking forward to meeting him.”
CHAPTER 8
THE SANDPIT, ABU DHABI
As Vance climbed the staircase to the upper levels of the villa, Chen Chua, PRIMAL's intelligence chief, called him into his workspace. Both Chua and Flash looked up from behind their computers as he walked in.
“OK, team, what's up?”
“Everything alright?” asked Chua.
“Yeah.”
“How's Saneh?”
“No change,” he grunted. “What have you got? Established comms with Bishop?”
“Not yet, but we'll come back to that. I spoke to Dominic Marks, the ranger who Kruger was communicating with.”
“And?”
“According to Marks, Bish and Kruger were with a group of poachers in Tsavo national park. What’s really interesting is they tipped off the local rangers. Marks thinks they’re trying to infiltrate Mamba’s poaching gang.”
“Makes sense. Does Marks have a number for them other than the sat phone?”
“Yes, he gave us their Kenyan number. It’s only a matter of time before they’re back in range of the cell towers.”
“Good work, bud. Let me know when they’re online.” Vance turned and left the room. He was halfway down the corridor when Chua caught up with him.
“Vance, what's going on with Saneh?”
“Like I said, no change.”
Chua shook his head. “I know you're lying. Look, we're all family here and we deserve to know.”
He exhaled. “They gave us a choice, Chen. Either we lose Saneh and try to save the child or we try to save Saneh and possibly lose the child.”
“So that's why we need to get in contact with Bishop so urgently.”
“Yeah, but we ran out of time. The decision had to be made today.”
“And you and Tariq made it?”
Vance nodded.
“So what now?”
He shrugged. “We keep working the intel on the poachers and hope Bishop stays out of the shit.”
“When we have comms what are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him? Tell him what? That we weighed the life of his unborn child against the life of his woman? How do you tell a man that, Chen? How do you tell him that because you couldn't reach him you had to make the hardest decision of his life for him? And what happens if he doesn't agree with the decision?”
“Bishop can't judge the decision you and Tariq made when he chose to chase vengeance rather than stand by Saneh. He'll live with it and he'll be grateful he didn't have to make it himself. You're a damn good man and a brave leader, don't you ever forget it.”
He fought back tears and embraced Chua in a bear hug.
“Get some sleep, Vance. We'll have comms with Bishop in a matter of hours and the hospital will
take care of Saneh.”
***
MOMBASA, KENYA
Mamba swallowed another mouthful of beer as he gazed at the dial on the kitchen scales. The tusk on it weighed-in at nearly fifty pounds and there were another five like it on the bench. He grinned; his Ugandan expedition had exceeded his expectations and put him overweight on Zhou’s order. It also meant that whatever Kogo had managed to scrounge in Tsavo was a bonus. Thoughts of his second-in-command brought a scowl to his face. Where was the lazy shit?
Finishing the beer he glared at the warehouse door. Where the fuck was Kogo? The shipment was due out tonight and he sure as hell wasn't going to load it by himself. His assistant was supposed to be arranging extra security. The local cops had recently hiked the price for their protection and there was a risk they would try to strong-arm him again. They needed extra muscle to keep them in line.
The rattle of the lock on the warehouse door caught his attention and he grabbed his AK from where it lay on the bench. The door slid open and Kogo stepped inside. “Where the hell have you been? I tried to call you twice.”
“Sorry, Mamba, the battery went dead.”
He placed the weapon back on the bench and walked to the refrigerator for another beer. “So, where the fuck’s the ivory?” Twisting the cap from the bottle on his bicep, he stared at the Kenyan.
“There was a problem.”
“Oh, yeah? You hire some local deadshits who couldn't find an elephant in a tent?”
Kogo shook his head. “No, we ran up against the KWS. They ambushed us up by the lake.”
He frowned. “You got away OK then. What about the others? The greedy white guys who wanted their cash up front.”
“They're the only reason I'm alive. They're proper badasses, Mamba. They shot the KWS up good and got us out of there fast. Saved my life.”
Mamba's eyes narrowed as he took a pull of the beer. He opened the refrigerator, pulled another bottle out, and tossed it over. “So you think you can trust these guys?”
Kogo opened the beer and took a sip. “They're mercenaries. I think if we pay them then we can trust them.”
PRIMAL Renegade (A PRIMAL Action Thriller Book 8) (The PRIMAL Series) Page 9