Dawn of Deception

by Dan Fletcher

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  GSU Headquarters, Nairobi

  August 20th, 1996

  Maliki rubbed at the scars on his face. The twitching was worse than it had ever been. A thorough search of the grounds failed to reveal anything. Captain Nbeke and the Professor must have escaped. The question now was where would they go?

  Hoping that the pair would head straight for KWS headquarters he had dispatched men to watch the various entrances to the Park. He decided to call Idi Tikolo and see if the plump little weasel knew anything.

  The lieutenant sounded surprised, “No there’s been no sign of him here.”

  “There’s nothing on the phones or radio relating to his whereabouts?” As the Chief Communications Officer Tikolo would know if there was anything on the wires.

  “Like I said, sir.” Tikolo lowered his voice, “There’s been no unusual activity.”

  “Has anybody else been to see Tanui?

  “No, the DD’s not here.” Tikolo’s voice was muffled as he covered the phone, “And he’s not expected back for a couple of days. He’s on a scheduled visit to the training camp in Tsavo to brief a new batch of recruits.”

  “Let me know the moment there’s any change,” his cheek twitched as he hung up the phone.

  Everything Maliki had was at stake. If the President got wind of this he would be disgraced and used as a scapegoat. There was no doubt about that. His years of loyal service would mean nothing if Moi's reputation was compromised. The President had made a lot of political mileage on the international stage by preaching Kenya’s no tolerance policy on ivory trade. He was under no illusion. The President would drop him like a tonne of bricks if the press got hold of the story.

  Maliki reached for the chain around his neck and pulled the amulet out from underneath the polo shirt he was wearing. The texture of the soft metal as he rubbed the gold between his thumb and forefinger didn’t provide him with the usual comfort. The family heirloom was the only physical link to his former life with the tribe. Unless he was bathing or having sex it remained securely around his neck. His mother once told him that the talisman was forged by a powerful witch doctor. Instilled with supernatural powers that would protect him. Maliki believed her then as he did now. He gazed reverently at the two-headed figure of Engai Narok as it glowed in the palm of his hand.

  The phone on his desk started to ring and Maliki shoved the amulet back inside his shirt. He grabbed the receiver off the hook and pressed it to his ear.

  “Yes?”

  “Sorry to disturb you, Commander,” it was the annoying desk clerk again. “I’ve got a Captain Nbeke on the line for you, says that you’ll want to speak to him.”

  Maliki’s chest froze up and he stopped breathing for a second. Then anger replaced his disbelief. Who the fuck did this Captain Nbeke think he was?

  “Put him through!”

  “Yes sir.”

  There was a series of clicks and then Nbeke spoke, “Is that Commander Abasi?”

  “What do you want?” barked Maliki.

  “Now, now, Commander, is that anyway to talk to someone who is trying to help you?”

  “And why would you want to help me, Captain?” sneered Maliki.

  “I just want to be left alone. I’ll give you Koinet and resign from the Service if you agree to let me live in peace.”

  “Is that all?”

  There was a brief pause, “And $250,000. Let’s call it my retirement fund.”

  “That’s a lot of money, Captain,” Maliki smiled to himself. So that’s what all this was about. Everybody had a price, even the good Captain. “What do you intend to do with it?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” replied Nbeke. “Now do we have a deal or shall I turn Koinet over to the Deputy Director?”

  “Calm down, Captain.” Maliki decided to go along with the charade, “I think that I can accommodate you but it will take a few hours to raise the money. Bring Koinet to me at lunchtime and I‘ll have it ready.”

  “Don’t try and play me for a fool, Commander.” Nbeke paused, “Do you really think for one second that I would go back there? If you want Koinet then you’ll have to come to me.”

  “And where might that be, Captain?”

  “A lodge near to the Maasai Mara,” Nbeke gave him directions. “I’ll wait there until nightfall. If you don’t show by then I’ll assume that the deal is off and turn Koinet in to the Deputy Director. Tell him all about you and Wei’s little business venture.”

  Maliki was surprised that Nbeke knew about Wei. He was sure that Gupta hadn’t known the Councillor’s identity, someone else must have told Nbeke. But now wasn’t the time to ask. He would enjoy finding out later, when he got his hands on the annoyingly resilient ranger.

  “There’s no need for that, Captain,” Maliki’s lip pulled up as his cheek contracted. “I’ll meet you. But how do I know that it isn’t a trap?”

  “You don’t!” replied Nbeke. “Just make sure that you bring the money. This is the only chance you’ll get. If I smell a rat I’ll be off into the bush before you know it and you’ll never find me.”

  The phone went dead in his ear before Maliki could reply. He smashed the receiver repeatedly on the edge of his desk. The plastic cracked and sent grey shards flying over the Persian rug. Eventually it broke in half, as it did a piece of plastic dug into his hand. Maliki dropped the broken earpiece so that it hung over the desk and clashed against the wooden drawers, the two ends held together by a couple of wires.

  Ignoring the gouge he’d made in his finger, Maliki pushed back his chair and stood up. This time there would be no mistakes and he would take care of Captain Nbeke personally. The meddlesome ranger would be begging for his own life to be ended by the time Maliki finished working on him with the knife.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Spencer Scott’s Lodge, Maasai Mara

  August 20th, 1996

  “We’re nearly there,” said David as they passed the Kawai Damn. This time there were no cattle or herdsmen to be seen, the midday heat probably too much for them. Damo was already reducing speed and guided the old Bedford gently onto the dirt track.

  “Bit on the remote side, isn’t it?” Bernstein was sat between them in the cab of the truck. The rest of the men were in the back.

  “Exactly.”

  David didn’t bother to expand any further. He gritted his teeth as the Bedford bumped over a rock. The painkillers were beginning to wear off. He would take some more when they stopped.

  Damo squeezed the Bedford through the open gates and down the drive to the cluster of huts by the waterhole. Scott appeared on the porch of the main lodge with something dangling from his hand. As they drew closer David realised that it was a bottle. The brakes made a high-pitched squeal as Damo pulled up in front.

  Scott looked more dishevelled than the last time he’d seen him and was obviously drunk. The big man would have fallen head first down the flight of steps if he hadn’t somehow grabbed hold of the wooden handrail.

  “Shit,” David pulled on the handle and pushed the door open. He looked across at Damo before getting out, “Whatever happens don’t do anything.”

  “I told you to look after her. You bastard!” shouted Scott as he staggered towards him waving the half full bottle around for effect. He stopped a couple of feet away and prodded David in the chest, swaying on his feet. His eyes were all puffy and red and there was a strong smell of whisky on his breath, “Now she’s dead!”

  David knew what was coming but let Scott hit him anyway, turning his head to reduce the impact as a huge fist caught him on the jaw. Luckily it was wild and had none of the big man’s weight behind it, or he would have been on the deck. David straightened up and rubbed his chin, the movement sent a stabbing pain through his chest. Scott swung back his arm to take another shot but a loud click stopped him as Damo released the safety on his rifle.

  “That’s enough.”

  “Put it away Damo, I deserved that.�
��

  His friend looked confused but lowered the rifle so that it pointed at the ground.

  Scott started to sob, “You deserve more than that, you bastard. You’re the one who should be dead, not Caitlyn.”

  David nodded. It was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. He could feel the tears welling in his own eyes, “I know. It’s my fault for involving her.”

  “Actually, that’s not strictly true.” Bernstein coughed nervously, “Caitlyn was supplying me with information long before you came along.”

  “What?” David turned around to face him, “Are you telling me that Caitlyn was spying for the CIA.”

  “No, nothing quite that dramatic. She told me when orphans were brought in or heard reports about poaching for my newspaper articles.” Bernstein must have read the look on his face, “She did it willingly, David. Nobody forced Caitlyn to do anything. She was far too strong a woman for that. Caitlyn cared about the animals and wanted to make a difference.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” Bernstein shrugged. “Maybe she was going to. You guys had just met. I thought that you knew, after our conversation in the Hankook Garden”

  David had forgotten about the hint Bernstein dropped that first night in the restaurant, alluding to the fact that he had been talking to Caitlyn. He’d never really had the chance to ask either of them about it. How much more was there that he didn’t know?

  “So it’s your fault then,” roared Scott as he blundered past him. David stuck out his foot and ankle tapped him before he could reach Bernstein. To his credit the American didn’t budge as Scott collapsed in front of him.

  “Didn’t you hear any of that?” David knelt beside him, “The man who’s really responsible for Caitlyn’s death is on his way here. Now, if you want to be part of what I’ve got in mind for him then you need to sober up. Or you’ll be no good to me. Do you understand?”

  Scott nodded.

  “Good.” He looked over at Damo, “Take him inside and get some coffee on the go. Lots of it.”

  Damo shouldered his rifle and Bernstein helped him get Scott to his feet. The rest of the rangers had filed out of the truck and were watching as they supported him up the short flight of steps to the lodge. Some of them were laughing, obviously amused by Scott’s antics.

  “Wipe those smiles off your faces,” shouted David. “We’ve got work to do. Everybody on me.”

  Many of the men were familiar to him and he had worked with them before on patrol. A hush came over the group of rangers as they gathered around him.

  “Good to see you two,” said David as Chege and Rashid emerged from one of the adjacent huts and joined them. “Where’s Makori?”

  “He’s inside sir.” Chege grinned at him and saluted theatrically, “Guarding the prisoner, as instructed.”

  “You can drop the act, Chege, save it for later,” David needed everybody to focus. He raised his voice and addressed the eight rangers listening, “I want you guys to unload the truck and put everything on the porch. Then get fully kitted out and check your weapons. Make sure that you are carrying extra ammunition. Then get something to eat and fill your canteens, we might have a bit of a wait on our hands. Back here in half an hour.”

  Comfortable in the knowledge that they must be at least a couple of hours ahead of the Commander, David went inside.

  *****

  After throwing up and drinking another pot of foul looking coffee Scott started to sober up. Bernstein raided the fridge and found some cheese to make sandwiches with. David wolfed one down as he examined the local map above Scott’s desk. There were a number of tracks leading north, if they needed to make a run for it. With his finger he traced the line of trees along the dry riverbed to the west of the waterhole. It was pretty much how he remembered it. The end of the smaller waterhole to the east was open where it faced the lodge. The rest was surrounded by a U-shaped copse of trees.

  “You said that the man responsible for Caitlyn’s death was on his way here,” Scott sounded much more coherent. “I think I have a right to know who he is.”

  David turned to face him. Scott was sitting in his armchair by the fireplace. “His name is Peter Abasi. He’s the head of the GSU.”

  “I’m guessing by all the men you’ve brought that he isn’t coming alone?”

  “That would be a fair assumption.”

  David was under no illusions but he had a few surprises that would help level the playing field.

  “Do you mind if I borrow this?” the map was stuck to the wall with sellotape and the corners tore off as he ripped it down from the wall.

  “Do I have a choice,” grumbled Scott.

  “Not if you want to live.”

  He took one of the marker pens from the pot on the desk and added the four huts to the map. He put a big circle around an area of open land to the northwest. Then he put two small crosses on the copses of trees that overlooked it from each side.

  Damo came over and stood beside him, Bernstein and Scott were talking by the fireplace. Damo spoke quietly so that they couldn’t hear, “You can’t seriously be thinking about taking on the head of the GSU?”

  “What would you like me to do?” replied David. “Walk away as if nothing has happened? Let the man responsible for the deaths of Haji, Caitlyn and countless others get away with it Scott free.” David realised that he had raised his voice. The others stopped talking and were no doubt listening. He glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough they were looking his way. “Sorry Spencer, no pun intended.”

  “None taken.” Scott hesitated for a second before asking, “Did you say countless others?”

  Bernstein answered on his behalf, “That’s right, our best estimate is that he’s ordered the deaths of somewhere between fifty and a hundred thousand people. The majority of them Kikuyu killed in the run up and aftermath of the last general election.”

  David’s father was one of them, but he didn’t say anything.

  “That’s one hell of statistic.” Scott frowned, “If the CIA knows all this then why haven’t they done something about it? Taken this guy out? I thought that you assassinated people all the time?”

  “In the real world it’s not that easy,” Bernstein shook his head. “Abasi is too well protected and has Moi’s support. If the President knew that we were involved at all it would jeopardise American interests in Kenya.”

  David was hit with a sudden realisation that was so obvious he couldn’t believe it hadn’t come to him before. Bernstein had been playing him all along. “So you rely on local people to do your dirty work for you?”

  “I’m sorry David. But like I said our hands are tied,” Bernstein shook his head in apology. “All we can do is point people in the right direction.”

  David started to wonder what might have happened if the CIA hadn’t got involved. Would Caitlyn still be alive? That question would have to wait for another day. It was nearly time to brief the troops and he wanted to speak to Makori alone first.

  “We’ll talk about this another time.” David headed for the door, “Be outside in five minutes.”

  *****

  Makori didn’t take the news very well.

  “Why do I have to go,” he kicked the wall with his steel toecap. “Can’t one of the others take him?”

  “It has to be someone that I can trust,” David appealed to Makori’s ego. “And our lives may depend on it.” Koinet was the only bargaining chip he had and David wanted him as far away from the action as possible.

  “If you think that it’s important then I’ll do it,” grunted Makori. “But don’t expect me to be happy. I would rather stay here than babysit this scum.”

  Koinet was handcuffed by one of his arms to the metal bunk bed, his mouth covered by a strip of gaffa tape. The wounded leg was so heavily bandaged that he couldn’t bend it at the knee. His heel rested on the wooden floorboards.

  “Let’s take him outside to the truck.” He patted Makor
i on the shoulder, “The sooner you get going the better.”

  David was killing two birds with one stone, the truck needed to be out of sight before Abasi got there. Makori was to wait near the police station in Migori. The nearest town of any size about twenty-five miles to the west. In the opposite direction to where Commander Abasi would be coming from.

  The rest of the men, including Bernstein and Scott, were waiting near the front of the truck when they got outside. David opened the passenger door and Makori bundled Koinet into the cab.

  “Where’s he taking him?” Bernstein asked as the disgruntled ranger jumped into the truck and slammed the door shut.

  “He’s taking him somewhere safe,” David shouted to be heard over the noise of the Bedford’s engine but avoided answering the question.

  Once the truck went out through the gates and turned onto the track he faced the others, “Against his will, Makori has agreed to take on a special mission. It is imperative that the prisoner doesn’t fall into the hands of our enemy. His job is to keep him safe until this is all over.”

  A couple of the men shook their heads as if they were disappointed not to be chosen but nobody said anything.

  “Most of you will be wondering what the hell you are doing here. All I can tell you is that we will probably be up against a superior force of equally armed GSU combat veterans.” Murmuring broke out amongst the men but David continued, “They are being misled by one of their superior officers. A man connected with the death of one of our colleagues, Ranger Haji, amongst many others.”

  The talking ceased.

  “He is also behind one of the largest poaching rings this country has ever known and is responsible for shipping tonnes of ivory to China every year.”

  He waited a few seconds for it to sink in, “Although as Rangers we are sworn to protect Kenya’s wildlife and bring this man to justice, the mission hasn’t been sanctioned. Anybody who doesn’t want to be involved should leave now, whilst they’ve still got the chance.”

  “We’re wasting time,” said Chege. “How are we going to catch this bastard?”