Predator Island

by Douglas Cameron

  Chapter 20

  There were two places in Vulcan’s Roost for members of the Bundle to get together and talk without appearing conspiratorial. After the events of their first night, anything that looked suspect would be considered conspiratorial. Those two places were the gym and the Roost’s Nest as the café or restaurant came to be nicknamed. The gym was not a place where conversations could be had in groups without appearing conspiratorial. Two or maybe three but seeing more than that talking in a place intended for keeping one’s body in peak condition would definitely be deemed suspect. Both places were open 24/7 but it was the Roost’s Nest where people would naturally gather. Carmen Domingo, the cook, and Stefaan Declercq were in the facility from 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. Breakfast hours were 7:00 a.m. – 12:00 p.m., lunch 11:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m., and dinner from 5:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m. Food was available at other times: premade sandwiches and simple meals like pot pies or pizza which could be heated in one of three microwaves. And there were dispensers for coffee, soft drinks, hot water for tea and a liquor cabinet, although the rooms had a minibar with each person’s personal spirit preferences. Times when Carmen and Declercq weren’t there, Symon Sheetz, Hansel or Gretel were there to keep things filled and tables and dishes cleaned.

  At breakfast the morning after the takeover, a small group sat at one of the tables in the Roost’s Nest discussing the events of the night.

  “How long have you known that Ramiro was behind this whole thing?” Waldo asked.

  “That’s a good question,” injected Gloria.

  “Well, the first I knew of this,” Issaack said, “was when I was contacted by a lawyer from Los Angeles asking me to spearhead this operation. I was without work except for Horus and it sounded like the perfect opportunity to test our project – Siegfried and mine. I put that requirement as an amendment to the agreement and it was accepted. Right after the organizational meeting, Siegfried and I figured out that he was. We knew that it had to be one of the Bundle and since it wasn’t me – I never said anything to the original organizer – it had to be one of the others. Logic and extremely thorough vetting by Horus showed him to be the only viable candidate. Then Symon and Stefaan did some investigating about the attacks during the session and decided they were made by Ramiro just to test what defenses might be put up on the island. Hansel and Gretel really cinched it. That truck that tried to blow a hole in the lobby that first evening didn’t have any explosives. If the driver believed that it did, he was duped. I think Ramiro knew then that he would seize the improved island, but I believed that he would wait until the survival of the fittest battle was over. After all, it was his idea. Well, we didn’t know it was him at the time but whoever it was wanted us – Siegfried and I – to act as the initiators of the idea, and it gave us the chance we needed to test our product.”

  “Your product being Horus,” Waldo stated.

  Issaack nodded. “We knew it would take a while to get to the test but were willing to sacrifice the time because we had much fine tuning to do.”

  “What about us?”

  “Why did he choose you? Well, for financial backing of course. Gladstone knew property although I don’t know how much help he was. Waldo had the electric vehicles and they were perfect for an island with no petroleum. Phil, well for all else, he is an expert scuba diver and that was probably part of his plan to get drugs safely to land. Monica because I think he was infatuated with her.”

  “You mean he wants in me knickers?”

  “I am only surmising.”

  “Well, whatever. He ever pulls his tallywhacker out, I am going to cut it off.”

  “Tallywhacker? How perfectly classic,” Gloria said.

  Chapter 21

  The most monumental trip that the B.B. Queen made to its island namesake was bringing the predators to the island. They had been collected over the previous fourteen months with the last one acquired seven months previously. The delay was so that the animals had a six-month quarantine to insure they brought no diseases into Brazil where they were being kept in a private zoo on Ramiro’s ranch under careful attention of six large animal veterinarians. This was a real treat for the vets who, for the most part, were retired and were happy to work for the price they were being paid and the place where they were working. It was a rare opportunity to work with some of the animals.

  When the ads announcing the positions were published, the response was overwhelming. Each applicant had to provide a detailed vita listing places where they had worked, types of animals they had taken care of, and letters of reference. They also had to answer a questionnaire, one question of which knocked 62% out of consideration: Would you object to caring for these animals if you knew that within the next year they would all be dead? After all, a veterinarian’s job, just like that of a medical doctor, is to care for the welfare of their patients, not to keep them healthy so they can die. When they asked about that question, all the successful applicants were told that the animals were to be released on a private island without cages and allowed to roam at will. Anything beyond that was left to their imaginations.

  The ship arrived at 6:09 a.m. of Day 3 of the Billionaire Bundle’s stay or the morning of the day after the invasion. By the evening of that day the predators were to be taken to their release spots in cages with automatic doors set to open at midnight. The spots chosen had been selected from recommendations of the veterinarians and the billionaires had gathered and discussed the locations and then made the decisions. This was done the afternoon after the invasion. It hadn’t been easy for the members of the Bundle and they had spent the previous afternoon in deliberation. Before deliberation began, each member of the Bundle was provided with a map of the island with spots indicated based upon the veterinarians’ opinions. Then they got in a long-bed pickup fitted with six leather swivel seats with shoulder harnesses like some carnival rides. One of Ramiro’s mercenaries was the driver, he sat in the front seat and Phil and Harvey Gladstone in the second seat. They were not completely welcomed by other members of the Bundle because it was felt that they had sided with Ramiro totally, not just on the decision to include a man as a predator but also in the takeover. Then they went for a tour of the island so that they could see the spots selected first hand.

  Since it was going to take most of the day to get the animals in place, the billionaires were given the opportunity to see the animals at 7:00 a.m. of Day 3 before they were sedated and taken in their cages to their release spots. All were warned not to venture close to the cages because the animals had not been fed in six days and they were hungry. Needless to say, the veterinarians were not happy with the situation but when it was pointed out that they had responded positively to knowing the animals would die within a year, they acceded. Privately however, they wished they hadn’t but, when one of them pointed out how much money they had earned and how it would greatly enhance their retirement, the grumbliest quieted. “Besides,” one of them said, “in the wild these animals might often go for a week without a kill.” It was a good thing the billionaires were warned to stay away from the cages because the tiger was not happy.

  The billionaires came down from Vulcan’s Roost in the long-bed pickup they had ridden in the day before. The pickup drove across B.B. Queen’s ramp and into the cargo bay and stopped. In front of them, both sides were lined with cages, each separated from the other by several feet and with dark coverings on the ends facing other animals. Down the aisle between the two rows was a six-foot curtain held upright by metal cables strung between metal posts securely fastened to the wooden floor.

  David Brimley greeted them after they had alighted. David was sixty-eight-years old and had spent forty years as a veterinarian before retiring to accept this position as Chief Veterinarian of the São Rochelle Predator Zoo (a self-made title after learning what was going to happen to the animals.)

  “You know what the animals are, but each cage has a placard stating what the animal is – both the familiar name and the scientific name – its ag
e and where it was acquired. There are members of the staff evenly spaced throughout who will answer any questions that you have. If they don’t have an answer, then no one here does. Each of the animals has a chip embedded in its back that monitors its vital signs and lets us track its position via GPS. On each cage is a map of the island with the position where each of them will be released. I will remind you that – as you instructed – these animals have not been fed in a week and although sometimes this happens in the wild, they are not very happy with the situation and some, maybe all, will look upon you as their next meal. So be careful.”

  The billionaires separated by choice into small groups: Monica, Gloria, and Issaack; Ramiro, Gladstone and Phil; Waldo and Siegfried.

  Ramiro, Harvey and Phil, with two of Ramiro’s men as bodyguards, started down the left-hand aisle; Monica, Gloria, and Issaack down the right, followed shortly by Waldo and Siegfried who were more interested in discussing each other’s inventions than the animals.

  The first animal that Monica, Gloria and Issaack encountered was the lion. The placard read:

  Male

  Lion

  Panthera leo

  5 years old

  Kruger National Park

  (South Africa)

  He gazed at them through half open eyes. Some might have thought he was half asleep, but Issaack thought he was planning his next meal.

  “He’s beautiful,” Monica crooned. “I just want to cuddle him.”

  “I’d like to have him lying in front of me, so I could run my feet through his mane,” Gloria mused.

  “He’d have to be dead to let you do that,” Monica countered.

  “No deader than he would be to let you cuddle him,” Gloria retorted with a soft chuckle.

  “Touché,” Issaack said with a smile.

  Monica looked at the lion and laughed. “Let’s call him Simba.”

  Reaching into a pocket in her shorts, she pulled out a black magic marker and stepped toward the cage.

  The newly named Simba, who had been lying down, was up and at the bars, snarling and reaching out with his right front paw before Monica could finish her first step. I was correct, Issaack thought. Next meal. Linda Bagnola, the veterinarian between this cage and the next, stepped forward just as fast as Simba had moved and caught Monica’s left arm, “It is not advisable to approach the cages, Ms. Bartlett.”

  Monica looked at her. “How do you know me? You’re too old to like my kind of music.”

  “True, Ms. Bartlett, but we were given brief biographies and pictures of all of you.” As she was saying this, she released Monica’s arm and stepped back.

  “Thank you, I forgot,” Monica said, putting the marker back into her pocket. “He’s beautiful.”

  “He looks prettier when his coat is brushed, and mane combed. But that’s not about to happen today,” Linda Bagnola responded.

  “How did we acquire him?” Gloria asked.

  “He attacked a tourist who tried to get too friendly just as Ms. Bartlett did. The park was going to send him to a German Zoo until someone stepped forward with more money. Or that’s the story we were told.”

  Chapter 21

  The next cage held the female coyote and the placard read:

  Female

  Coyote

  canis latrans

  2 years

  Copley, Ohio USA

  “Where in the hell is Copley, Ohio?” Gloria asked.

  Linda Bagnola, who had followed them from the preceding cage said, “They tell us it is a suburb of Akron, Ohio, and just west of the city. Akron is about thirty miles south of Cleveland. That’s on Lake Erie, one of the Great Lakes.” This last more was for Monica’s benefit than Gloria’s.

  “Ah,” Gloria said. “But she was wild?”

  “Yes, she was trapped in a fenced-in yard where she had evidently gone after a small dog. The house owner saw her and chased after the coyote with a blanket she – the owner was a woman – had pulled off the clothesline. The owner got the coyote backed into a corner, threw the blanket over it, and held it down until help arrived. The owner’s husband – he’s handicapped and in a wheelchair – called 911.”

  “That was some feat,” Issaack said. “That’s no small coyote.”

  “You’re correct,” Linda responded. “She weighs forty-one pounds now but was only twenty-nine when captured. She had a hurt paw which is the reason they were able to capture her. We got her from an animal hospital through an agent.”

  The coyote was standing near the front of the cage, snarling at them and yipping quietly.

  “She’s got some moxie, that one,” Gloria said.

  “Moxie?” questioned Monica. “What’s ‘moxie’?”

  “Chutzpah, verve, lots of spunk.”

  “I see,” Monica said looking at the coyote. “I like her … moxie.”

  “Then let’s call her that,” Issaack said.

  “Yes,” Monica agreed. “Moxie she is.”

  The three moved on and encountered a beautiful rust red cat with long legs, a thick torso, long tufted ears and long canine teeth that it was showing as it snarled at their approach but showed no fear. The placard read:

  Female

  Caracal

  Caracal Caracal

  3 years

  India

  .

  “She’s beautiful,” Monica said, as she sat on her heels to be more on the level with the cat.

  “Beautiful but deadly,” a male voice said, and they all looked at an obviously senior man standing next to the cage’s far side. He had on a khaki shirt and shorts like Linda Bagnola and, like her, no socks on his feet but he was wearing cross trainers while Linda wore leather sandals.

  “I’m Garret Bagnola,” he said. “This cat is a great hunter of small animals but is not afraid to attack something bigger than herself if she needs to. She can leap almost ten feet into the air and catch a bird. Interesting to see.”

  “Are you…?” Gloria said pointing back at Linda.

  “I’m happy to say ‘Yes,’ to that question. Wasn’t expecting it – the question – and hadn’t studied but aced it, I think,” he finished with a huge smile on his face which lifted his handlebar mustache and caused his dark eyes to flash.

  “Do you know where in India?” Issaack asked.

  “Gir Forest National Park. She’d been injured, not seriously but needed attention. We came to her aid, paid medical bills plus a bit more.”

  “We?” Issaack asked, a wry smile on his face. “As in you and Linda?”

  “Don’t I wish we had that kind of money! No, by ‘we’ I mean this project’s sponsors and I guess that’s you from what I understand.”

  “She’s got …” Monica looked at Gloria, “moxie.”

  Garret laughed. “Yes, she does. She’s hungry and will be out of the cage like a shot. Anything that’s little and moves had better look out for her in the first few hours.”

  She’d better look out also, Monica thought having taken an instant liking to the caracal. “We need a name for her.”

  “What about Hyma?” Garret suggested. “It is another name of Goddess Parvati.”

  “The goddess of fertility,” Issaak said. “I like it.”

  “Then it’s a fait accompli,” Garret said. “That’s what we’ve been calling her. Linda and I.”

  “Take good care of her,” Monica said as the three moved on. Issaack looked over his shoulder as they moved on and saw Siegfried and Waldo engaged in a conversation with Linda. Wonder what that’s about? Garret moved along with them.

  “This is a beauty,” Garret said pointing at the cage containing a big black bear.

  The placard read

  Male

  Black Bear

  Ursus americanus

  4 years

  Tennessee U.S.A.

  “I’ll bet he’s from the Smoky Mountain National Park,” Gloria said. “Probably got in trouble with campers and we rescued him.”

  “Exactamundo!” Garret said.
“But did I detect some facetiousness in your tone of voice?”

  “Yes,” Gloria said. “All these animals appear to have been…” and she made air quotation marks, “rescued.”

  “That’s the easiest and best way to get them,” Issaack said. “Remember this is a research project and we intend to try to publish results. We would have trouble doing so if any of the animals were obtained in an illegal manner.”

  “I understand,” Gloria said, “but sometimes the reason sounds, I don’t know, …”

  “Made up?” Garret said. “We had the same thought, but we have seen the papers on all of them and they are all genuine … or superior forgeries. I don’t think any of the veterinarians would be working here if the animals were obtained illegally.”

  “Well, under the circumstances, I think his name is Smoky.”

  “Yes,” Monica said. “I understand – Smoky Mountains.”

  “And ‘Smokey the Bear’ is a spokesanimal for the United States Forest Service educating people about the danger of wildfires,” Garret added

  “Wish he’d done something about all those wildfires out west recently,” Issaack said.”

  “Indeed,” Garret said.

  Monica had started moving on and so Issaack and Gloria followed, Issaack with a backward glance seeing that Linda, Waldo and Siegfried were still talking.

  “Oh, what a beautiful cat,” Monica said staring into the next cage.

  Male

  Cheetah

  Acinonyx jubatus

  4 years

  Africa

  “You are correct, Ms. Bartlett,” said a black man with short cropped white hair and a white goatee being the only obvious signs of his age because his ebony skin was as taut as a young man’s and gleamed like a newly polished black limousine. “He is a beautiful animal. From the Serengeti. He was in a private collection and the offer was more than the owner could refuse.”