“I’ll drop our altitude even more Harry and then you can get a better look, it’s quite something.”
The road was deserted so Harry just busied himself with the view. Then suddenly under a canopy of trees was the unmistakable white lettering of Cheng Pang, like an eye blinking out of the darkness.
“Oh my God Ollie that’s the container it has to be, right up against the trees. I’m not imagining it. Please can you turn back so that we can have another look.”
Ollie turned steeply and flew back down on the river side of the road. “There, the white writing is even more obvious and despite being in the shadows you can just make out the dark purple colour.”
The other two saw it clearly now as well. “There is a man beside it looking up at us. You can just make him out by the front bumper of the truck,” shouted Chyulu. Harry got the faintest glance before the figure melted into the trees. Was it the Somali? He honestly couldn’t tell.
Ollie was already on the radio to the air traffic control giving them the location and asking them to inform the police straight away.
“We have got enough fuel to stay up a little longer. What do you think Chyulu, you have the experience with this sort of thing?”
“Well I think we should just fly straight to Malindi now. If we buzz about overhead he will know for sure he’s been spotted while at the moment it will just be a suspicion. He can’t drive off into the forest with a lorry that size and we have to remember how valuable that ivory is. My guess is that he will have fellow Somalis somewhere in Malindi who will have a property where he will be able to hide and unload the container. We need to find them too then we will be breaking their whole network. I know your thoughts will be for Ana, Harry but you will just have to trust me on this. If we show our hand now they will more than likely just kill her and dump her body in the forest.”
Harry could see the sense in this, even though he couldn’t stop a huge feeling of guilt deep in his stomach, as Ollie set them on a course for Malindi airport.
Chyulu asked Ollie to get the airport tower on the radio and then in rapid Swahili he rattled off what seemed like a list of instructions. “I was just telling them to contact the KWS special unit we have down here. Hopefully they will be able to get onto that road reasonably quickly. Everyone has a description of the container.”
Ollie landed with his usual ease, the wheels seeming to make an almost seamless contact with the tarmac of the runway. He motored across to the airport buildings and had barely cut the engine when Chyulu was out of the door. Harry passed out his rucksack and then somewhat more gently the rifle. Leaving Ollie to sort out the refuelling of the plane, they headed quickly up into the control tower.
Harry’s Swahili was still somewhat limited but he could understand enough from Chyulu’s tone and body language to know that he was far from happy. He turned to Harry. “Can you believe it? The police vehicle they sent to investigate broke down before it even got to the C103 which is the road they will almost definitely be on. The KWS unit has also been delayed by half an hour. I’m afraid there is nothing more we can do except sit and wait till they get here.
They sat up against the wall of the main building, feeling the helplessness of a situation over which they had no control. Harry rang Jim to update him although it was difficult to sound positive when he knew that dusk was closing in and darkness would only be the friend of the Somalis. He learnt that Inspector Mwitu was in the air as they spoke which was definitely good news. This situation needed his authority and organisational skills. By the look of things his plane would land at much the same time as Chyulu’s KWS colleagues were due.
Harry’s guess turned out to be more accurate than he could have imagined. Just a few minutes after Mwitu touched down, a large sandy coloured Land Cruiser with six armed KWS rangers in the back pulled up outside the airport and sitting in the front was Sergeant Odika.
The two were deep into discussion with Chyulu when a white police car with flashing lights appeared. At last things seemed to be moving quickly.
Mwitu came across to Harry. “Thank you for what you have done. We have roadblocks up, so we know the container lorry hasn’t come into the heart of Malindi but it’s probably had enough time to sneak into the surrounding sprawl of slums. The local police have informers on the ground so hopefully we will get some quick leads. I know you would love to come with is but I’m afraid that’s out of the question. This will be a dangerous operation. We will do all we can to ensure Ana’s safety, you have my word on that and I promise we will stay in touch.”
Harry realised the futility of any plea about joining them. He wished the Inspector luck and went to find Ollie.
“Look Harry I have some friends down here in the aviation business. I’m going to spend the night with them. You must come too.”
“Thought I’d have a look round the town first, I’ve never been here before.”
“You have to get real. If you start playing some sort of amateur detective in dodgy areas of this place it might well be the last thing you do. There are a hundred and fifty thousand people who live here, far bigger than you think. Leave it to Mwitu and Odika, no matter what your heart says.” Harry’s shoulders slumped; he felt totally useless.
They took a taxi to one of the nicer areas of town where two other young pilots rented a house together. On any other night Harry would have really enjoyed their company. He knew the grilled red snapper was tasty, his beer was well chilled and also that they tried to make the conversation light-hearted for his sake. Nevertheless, he excused himself early and headed for bed. As he lay there under the mosquito net, the large fan churning overhead, he realised that Ana couldn’t be more than a few miles away and yet he knew with absolute certainty that her night would be as different from his as it was possible to be.
Chapter Eighteen
Ana felt sore and bruised. To say the trip so far had been uncomfortable would not even have been close. The roads and tracks they had driven on had been appalling and at times the container tilted so much to one side or the other that she felt as though the whole thing might just slide off the side off the trailer.
She tried sitting wedged in a corner but then her back and shoulders were rubbed mercilessly by the walls. Standing up had seemed a good idea for a while but she learnt that having to keep your legs endlessly flexed, like some skier, was exhausting. In the end she settled for sitting against a section of wall, using the cardboard from the food box as some form of insulation.
They had barely stopped and then it was just for the Somali and the driver to relieve themselves. They had banged the door, making crude remarks about how her bladder was holding out and then the lorry had lurched on its way once more.
To add to her problems some of the ivory had worked itself lose and she had to cope with large tusks sliding across the steel floor. She had tried to make them secure again but with only limited success. On a particularly rough stretch one tusk had hit the wall with such force that a few large slithers of ivory actually broke off. The largest piece was almost as long as a ruler and as she ran her hands down the remarkable smoothness of its surface she couldn’t but feel a connection with the wonderful creature it belonged to. She sensed her anger rise again but was also conscious of the sharpness of the end where it had sheared off. Just possibly it might serve a purpose she thought, as she tucked it inside her top.
Ana was suddenly aware that the lorry was travelling at a slower speed and the surface beneath them seemed far smoother, and before long, with a hiss of breaks they came to a halt. Somehow she knew this was different and focused on any sounds that would give her a clue as to what might be going on in the outside world. She could hear the murmur of several voices and the lorry seemed to edge forward then suddenly came to a jerky stop and the engine cut. It was strange but the silence seemed much more threatening than the noise of the journey. There was a loud metal clang behind them as though gates were being shut and then nothing.
She realised it must now
be night time as there wasn’t even the faintest rim of light round the doors, but what was happening? The humidity of her surroundings told her they must be somewhere near the coast. She had tried so hard to remain positive but the thought of that filled her with dread. Once on any sort of boat away from these shores then she knew with absolute certainty that she would never see her friends or family again.
After what seemed ages, Ana had rather lost the ability to track time, she heard voices again outside the container. Her mouth went dry as the rasping sound of the bolts being drawn back echoed through her prison. The doors opened slowly to reveal a starry sky and despite everything her spirits lifted momentarily as she breathed in clean salty air. However, as she glanced out they sank again just as fast.
The Somali stood there hands on hips, his supreme self-importance obvious even in the half light. “Well Ana, I hope you enjoyed our journey. I hadn’t expected to see you so soon but regrettably we have had to make some new plans. Your little friend has caused us a few problems, otherwise you would be at sea now, heading for an exciting new life.” The words were expressionless but the menace in them all too clear. “Anyway we have some fresh plans for you. Take her inside.”
One of the men standing at the rear jumped nimbly into the container and grabbing her forcefully by the hair, pulled her towards the opening. As she stumbled slightly on one of the dislodged tusks he didn’t lessen his grip and she found herself being virtually dragged the last few metres. The other young Somali reached up and gripped her belt pulling her off with such force that she spiralled onto the ground, smacking the side of her head on the brick-lined courtyard. The half-formed insults she had been preparing to shout were crushed from her lips. She could already taste the sweetness of the blood as it trickled down her cheek into the corner of her mouth.
“Careful now,” came the rasping voice, “we don’t want to damage the goods so early on.” They all laughed and she was scraped up off the driveway like some plaything.
Take her to the first room on the right of the corridor. There’s a basin in there so she can get herself cleaned up. And don’t hang about we have all this ivory to sort out tonight.”
Ana sank to the floor as she heard the door being locked. Her head throbbed dreadfully and as she slowly got to her feet it positively swam in various directions. She ran a basin full of water, drinking thirstily from the tap as it filled. Gently she washed the blood from her forehead and examined it in the mirror. The wound looked angry but it wasn’t that deep.
She sat on the corner of the bed trying to formulate a plan, close to tears with the vulnerability of her situation. The intentions of her captors were obvious but her determination to resist even if it cost her life, somehow gave her fresh courage and determination. She felt for the slither of ivory, it was still there. However badly the odds stacked up against her there was always a chance, she just had to be ready to take it.
Lurking in the shadows of a half built new property on the opposite side of the road Mike pondered his options. He had never visited the Somali house before but he knew some of the details of the Malindi side of the operation.
He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. It was strange, he thought that when he was out in the African bush that was rarely a problem. Here was so very different. He had always hated towns ever since he had been a boy, the noise and bustle of people was never his thing. His parents had scraped the money together to send him to a decent Nairobi school but even there he stuck out, tall and gangly with an inability to make friends easily, he was usually the outsider. The only time he had felt happy was in the game parks and reserves. He simply fell in love with the places themselves, the endless space and huge skies and of course the wildlife of every shape and size. Animals had even learnt to trust him over the years when they realised that the ancient Land Rover and its lanky occupant, so often in the same place, presented no threat. That he had betrayed their trust in the most unimaginable way ate into every corner of his being.
He had always gambled a bit, outside wildlife that was his only real enjoyment. He lost more than he won, that was common but every so often there was a win that allowed him small luxuries he would never normally consider; he wasn’t a man who spent money on himself.
When the casino changed hands he hadn’t liked it at first, too glitzy, almost like something from show-business, with young women endlessly offering him top ups of whatever he happened to be drinking. However, he got to know the Chinese manager and they had shared stories about their lives and ambitions as people often do in the early hours of the morning, when they have had too much to drink. They became friends, or so he thought, and his visits became more regular, the girl who topped up his drink always seemed to be the prettiest and even better he started to win, not just small amounts but enough to allow him to travel to other parts of Africa in his time off. His last memorable visit had been to see the mountain gorillas in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park. He had felt so privileged, there were only about a thousand of those wonderful animals left anywhere in the world.
In time had even met Mr Pang, whose company owned the casino, and taken him up to Uwingoni on safari. Life had never been better.
Then his luck changed, his winning streak came to an end. He still won small amounts but his losses grew larger and larger. The casino was generous and repeatedly extended his credit. Just one big win again and he would be able to repay everything, but his losses had spiralled out of control.
When they had called him in the friendly smiles were gone and even he was horrified at the amount he owed. His world was falling apart, what would happen, perhaps even a spell in prison, he couldn’t stand enclosed spaces and the thought of a cell was beyond terrifying.
Mr Pang’s nephew, Michael, had been at the second of these meetings. He had suggested a way out of this situation. All they needed was information about the whereabouts of certain animals in Uwingoni and some other useful news from time to time and the casino debt could be written off. He had flatly refused but then they had produced photos of him with various casino girls in embarrassing positions. He had no recollection of anything but the threat of those being posted across the newspapers and online, together with formal complaints to the police about his behaviour broke him.
To start with their demands hadn’t been too serious but then more and more of the elephants, his elephants had been killed. He had seriously considered taking his own life on several occasions, but didn’t even have the courage for that.
The last few days, the scale the slaughter of so much he loved, and then what had happened to Harry and Ana had somehow helped him to find part of his old self. His own life was dispensable, he had come to terms with that but perhaps he might be able to do something to make up for his terrible betrayal.
He had just left a note for Jim, too many questions otherwise, and hitched a couple of flights down here. Mike knew this place was the centre of their costal operations but little more than that, so he couldn’t believe his luck when the container lorry had arrived only about twenty minutes after him. He had heard snatches of conversation from inside the compound but not enough to determine with any real certainty what was going on. Of course he knew he should tell the authorities and he would, but first he had to play his part. His life for Ana’s seemed a fair trade as he realised with unusual clarity that he was not afraid to face these men.
The lights shone brightly inside the compound and Mike was aware of some form of major activity taking place. While he was deliberating his next move a small lorry arrived at the gates. This was such a quiet under populated area of town, chosen deliberately no doubt, so they seemed unconcerned about opening up to the new arrival and as he glanced inside it became obvious what was happening. Tusks were neatly stacked against the outside of the container lorry, obviously ready for transfer to the smaller vehicle. There was no sign of Ana so that must mean she was inside the house. The Somali was already issuing instructions to the new driver and he assumed
everyone would be involved in transferring the ivory as quickly as possible. They wouldn’t be sparing someone to sit outside a locked room containing a young woman.
As the gates shut Mike made his way cautiously from the shadows, up to the outside of the compound wall. It was high but then few men were as tall as him. The glow of the compound courtyard faded as he moved level with the side of the house. Crouching down by a supporting pillar he took out his phone. “Jim, yes it’s me but no questions please just listen. As soon as I hang up contact Inspector Mwitu and give him this address in Malindi. It’s where the container lorry is. Ana wouldn’t survive a police siege, the Somali would never allow it so I’m going over the wall now; just perhaps I can do something. I’m so sorry for everything. You’ve been a true friend. Look after Uwingoni.”
He put the phone back in his jacket, feeling the weight of the old handgun in the lower pocket. It was a relic of his father’s time in the police reserve. It had been in his bottom drawer for years and was loaded but that was all he knew. He had never even attempted to fire it.
Taking a couple of strides back he took a run at the wall, got his fingertips onto the top and with difficulty hauled himself up until he was looking down at the passage way that ran along the side of the house. He eased both legs over and lowered himself down.
There were bars on the outside of all the windows and shutters or curtains inside; it was difficult to tell as everything on this side of the house was in darkness. Cautiously he moved round to the back where a light from one of the rooms shone on a tiled yard. There was a table on which plates from what he assumed was an early evening meal still sat rather forlornly, but that was all.
Edging round the corner it became obvious that the light was coming from the kitchen. Hiding as much of himself as he could he surveyed the inside. It was surprisingly clean and uncluttered and far more importantly, empty. This was a time for caution, yes, but definitely not for being timid. In four strides he was at the door. Quietly but firmly he pushed the handle down and holding his breath, pulled it slowly towards him. With the faintest of a creak it swung open. He could hear nothing, even the loading of tusks in the front yard didn’t register.
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