The End of a Lie (The Amy Mohr Chronicles Book 1)
Page 16
Amy looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”
Mike sat up straight “Let’s get some sleep. I want to take you on a private game drive tomorrow morning. I need to show you why I love this country.”
Amy’s smile was sincere. “I’d like that.”
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They were up before dawn. Each slept in his own bed. Mike woke up that night when Amy called out during a nightmare. But it passed, and she fell back to sleep without waking.
What do you dream about, Amy, that terrifies you so? Mike wondered with concern for her well-being.
After getting coffee in the lobby, they left to wait for the gate to the park to open for the day. They had to cross the Sabie River to get to the entrance. The bridge was wide, but only a trickle flowed beneath it. The dry season was approaching and soon animals would gather at these permanent watering holes when those in the north end of the park dried up. A herd of thirty or more elephants dug in the sand to reach water not far below the surface. They kicked the sandy river bottom with their feet and used their trunks to suck up the liquid that rose through the sediment.
Mike took her to some of his favorite spots that were not on the usual tourist itineraries. He headed north away from normal traffic and soon they were alone on the unpaved roads that crisscrossed throughout the park. Mike rolled up the canvas roof on the jeep, got some bottled water out of the back and it seemed to Amy that Mike was more content than she had ever seen him.
They followed a trail that was so little used that the grass between the worn tire paths was more than two feet high. They came upon three white rhinoceros huddled together sleeping in the cool morning right next to the road. The rhinos weren’t white, but had large pointed ears and a broad square muzzle.
Mike explained, “White is actually a corruption of the German word weit meaning wide. The wide snout of this animal is one of the physical characteristics separating it from the black rhino found further north in the park.”
Mike stopped the jeep twenty feet away so that Amy could watch them without her binoculars. The one closest to them opened his small near-sighted eyes and spotted the jeep. To go ahead meant getting too close for either Mike’s or the rhino’s comfort. These beasts were not especially friendly when they felt threatened and it didn't take much to annoy them. Mike backed the jeep up a hundred yards to take an alternate route. Once they moved far enough away from his still sleeping companions the rhino sentinel settled back down. Amy knelt on the seat so she could watch them.
The grass along their new trail was so high that a pride of lions could have been napping a few feet away and they would be invisible. Mike found a small kopje, a collection of boulders left over from an ancient magma flow millions of years old. Erosion had washed away the softer sandstone surrounding them leaving a pile of large granite rocks heaped in strange configurations on the almost flat bush lands.
Mike maneuvered the jeep up to a favorable position and sat up on the back of his seat to survey the area. Amy handed him her binoculars and he scouted the region for other wildlife. Mike spotted a klipspringer standing on tiptoes atop a boulder much higher up on the kopje. These are small antelopes with coarse spikey hair that always walked on the tips of their hooves.
“Pairs stay together for life as far as we can tell,” Mike informed her.
“Unlike human couples,” Amy replied sadly. She found the guardian’s mate grazing in a grassy area very close by.
Far below the klipspringer, in a knoll between the boulders, a pride of lions slept after a night of successful hunting. One young male lolled on his back with his paws dangling in the air that reminded Amy of a contented domestic cat from home. His mane was just beginning to fill out, appropriate for the adolescent teen he was. The alpha male would soon drive him out of the pride. Dominant males protected their breeding rights viciously and young contenders were not tolerated even if they were his sons.
Three lionesses tried to sleep in the shade of a boulder while two cubs frolicked nearby. Amy and Mike had little need for words. She could feel his sense of belonging, his connection to the land. She let his sense of peace and contentment become her own. She could appreciate his need to stay in Africa.
Mike moved the jeep on to an area where the grasses were beginning to dry out. A trail of fresh blood marred the sand of the jeep track. In a small copse of trees the strong smell of elephant permeated their nostrils. Cautiously Mike followed the grisly spoor as far as he could in the jeep. They found her lying in the tall grass, dying if not already dead. Her side showed massive wounds, and only one of her tusks was still intact. The other was a bloody stump. Mike glared at Amy with steely eyes.
“Poachers. They haven’t finished collecting their bounty. We don’t want to be here when they come back.” Mike put the jeep in gear and prepared to get out the area.
Amy kept scanning the sky. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Mike asked her.
“That high-pitched humming sound.” Amy spotted something flying overhead, and raised her binoculars to get a better look. “That’s no bird,” she said anxiously and handed the glasses to Mike.
Mike followed the object hovering above them. “What is it?”
“That would be Mavis,” replied a voice booming out of the high grass. He pointed a rifle straight at them.
Chapter 26
Nathan Reynolds' rifle still pointed at Amy's chest.
“Did you think you could get away with this?” he shouted not bothering to contain his anger. A wild look haunted his eyes. Neither Mike nor Amy trusted his emotional stability.
“Get away with what?” Amy asked in the same tone. “This?” she gestured to the mutilated elephant corpse that lay next to them. She had no trouble meeting his outrage and she refused to cower under his threats. Mike stayed silent.
“Do we look like poachers to you?” Amy asked.
“And exactly what do poachers look like, blondie?”
Mike kept his hands on the steering wheel and made an effort to calm the waters before things escalated out of control. “Check our jeep. We don’t have equipment suited for this bloody business.”
Reynolds was still in a hot rage. “Both of you. Get out of the jeep and keep your hands raised,” he ordered, his rifle still pointed straight at them.
Mike and Amy complied moving slowly so as not to incite Reynolds into acting rashly. Reynolds searched their jeep and found nothing but Amy’s back pack, their water bottles and a pair of binoculars.
“How do I know you don’t have accomplices doing the dirty work?”
Not far down the road the trees rustled. There was no wind.
Reynolds sneered at them. “So your partners have returned to finish the job.”
Instead a baby elephant emerged crying for its lost mother. It was tiny and frightened, but still came within arm's reach of where Amy stood. His head didn't even come up to her waist. She remained stock still, making no sound or sudden movements. She extended her hand and the baby explored it with its trunk.
Amy’s eyes filled with tears and her anger leaked out as her heart sank. “What can we do?” she whispered to Mike.
“Nothing,” Mike stated flatly. “It will be dead by nightfall. Without the protection of the mother or other females in the herd a baby this size has no hope of surviving in the bush. Cats in the area will do what cat's do.”
Amy’s face was a study in misery. Reynolds put down the rifle and spoke to her almost gently -his rage melted by her despair. “He’s right. To abandon the calf seems cruel, but…”
“It’s the law of the jungle,” Amy replied turning her face away from him, her sapphire eyes blazing again to disguise the tears. “I understand, but I don’t have to like it.”
Reynolds shoulders sagged. He was a man who had just suffered a terrible defeat. “We’ve been tracking a pair of poachers for the last couple of days. We were too late.”
Mike nodded, but said nothing i
n reply.
“My camp is just over that ridge. How about giving me a ride back?”
Reynolds retrieved his gear from its hiding place in the tall grass. The three of them climbed into the jeep. Reynolds sat on top of the back seat with a computer on his lap. “I just need to pick up Mavis on our way.”
Looking up in the sky Amy saw the strange mechanical bird still making lazy circles overhead. As Mike crested the next hill, they spotted Mavis landing in the road in front of them. Mike stopped the jeep and Reynolds jumped over the side to collect her. He gently folded back her wings and put her in a canvas case.
Mike's curiosity fired up. He knew drone technology had been useful in the battle against poachers in other parts of Africa, but had never seen one in action. “So how long have you been hunting these guys?” It seemed like a safe opening.
“A couple of years now -mostly in the northern sections of Kruger. This season we decided to move south with the herds. Water holes up there started drying up a month ago.”
“Had any success?” Mike endeavored to keep the conversation going. Amy was still seething. She tried to compose herself and he wanted to leave her room to do so.
“Some. Not enough. There’s too much territory to cover and we have only one drone and the three of us.” Reynolds started talking technical details of Mavis' design and capabilities.
Amy didn’t pay either of them any attention. She was still mourning the baby elephant. She had seen abandoned human children roaming the streets of Nairobi and paid a visit to an orphanage of HIV-positive youngsters. Their parents died of the disease and the tribe that should have protected them, ejected them instead. Fear of contagion was too great. Those children were so desperate for any kind of affection. Their tour group visited a local market and bought them much needed food and supplies. Their program manager purchased them meat out of his own funds. Parents had a duty to stay alive for the sake of the progeny they created. She felt contempt both for the tribe that deserted them, and the poachers who ravished the wildlife population. She understood violent death, but there were some standards that were non-negotiable with her.
The bush camp was over the crest of the next ridge. Amy no longer needed to hold back her tears. She just contained her anger. Trading one strong emotion for another, Mike conjectured as he looked over at her.
When they arrived both Paul and Jeffrey came over to see who Reynolds had brought home with him this time. Reynolds introduced his team. Paul appeared frail and had a dry cough. Amy thought he looked ill, and wondered if he had seen a doctor. Jeffrey took the canvas bag toting Mavis out of the jeep.
“So?” asked Jeffrey.
“They left in a hurry. One tusk was still there, so they’ll be back to collect it,” Reynolds told him.
“They’re getting bolder.” Jeffrey lamented. “They never used to come so close to our camp.”
“I figure these for small time poachers. Most likely they heard a vehicle approaching and got out of there.” Reynolds replied.
“Our jeep?” Mike asked. Reynolds nodded his head.
Mike wanted to return to the lodge before dark. “It’s getting late and we need to move on.”
Reynolds retrieved his gear from the backseat, and shook hands with Mike. “No hard feelings I hope,” Reynolds said in apology as they drove off.
Mike took them over the same route they came on. They passed the elephant corpse now missing both of its tusks, and the calf was nowhere in sight.
Amy maintained a stony silence during the return trip. She was still angry about something and Mike wondered if it was only the poachers bothering her. She refused to talk, and he couldn't read her mind.
“I’ll report the elephant to the authorities when we get back,” Mike said to Amy. She nodded her head, but didn't utter a word. She made him uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure why. Africa was his home, and he accepted that bad things happened here. He still loved it, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
The next morning they headed back to the Nelspruit airport for their flight to Johannesburg. It had been an awkward night. Mike left the keys in the vehicle merely saying, “They’ll find it.”
The plane was small and wasn't full. Amy was not sure what Mike had done with his gun. Neither of them had any luggage to check. Mike only had the clothes on his back and his cell phone. The flight was short, and Amy was silent for most of the trip.
“What is wrong with you?” Mike finally asked in frustration.
Amy turned to him and stated, “Children need parents, Mike.” That was all she said for a while. Later she told him she wanted to head home to the States, and he was in no mood to argue with her.
Mike didn’t know where Francoise was. There was no answer from their house phone in Cape Town, and her cell went directly to voice mail. Mike told Amy he was taking the next flight to Cape Town. Her plane to JFK wasn’t scheduled to leave for several hours after that. Her dark humor hadn’t lifted. In Johannesburg's international airport, they parted company as if no more than polite strangers. Mike headed towards the domestic terminal and Amy waited in the departure lounge for the overnight flight to the U.S. East Coast.
To pass the time Amy pulled out the mineral assays she had taken from the Bakita mine site. She still had the two clay samples buried in the bottom of her backpack -the one she had gotten from her cousin Robert and the other she had confiscated at AZZA industries. The report quoted a Lithium content of 4%. This didn't match Robert's specimen. The test she did in the lab at Sister Gertrude' clinic was negative for lithium. The discrepancy bothered her. The uncertainty about cousin Robert’s role in the whole matter annoyed her too. She didn’t like unanswered questions. The geology laboratory at the University of Cape Town was where the assay originated. She also knew that if she left South Africa she would probably never return. It was just too far away.
Amy stood up from her seat in the departure lounge. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. She needed a place to start unraveling the tangled web that had enveloped her. She changed her ticket from JFK to Cape Town where the world’s experts on South African mineral resources resided. Amy headed towards the domestic terminal. She was sure Mike had a left hours ago, which suited her just fine. This was something she could do, should do on her own.
Chapter 27
In Africa and elsewhere, the illicit trade in small arms and light weapons is opaque, amorphous and dynamic. It is also a global enterprise with illicit weapons across Africa coming from virtually every major arms producing country in the world. Small Arms Survey puts the dollar value of the illicit small arms trade at US$1 million, or 10-20% of the global trade. The clandestine nature of this trade makes it impossible to confirm these estimates, but what is obvious is that in Africa the illicit trade in small arms is counter-developmental on many levels.–fas.org
Ralph Toomey had disappeared. For two frustrating days Ed Brown tried contacting him with no success. Toomey often stayed off the grid for periods of time, but a critical juncture was fast approaching if the sting operation was to succeed. A shipment of illegal arms had landed in a Mozambique port earlier in the week. Smugglers brought it overland to the Bikita District of Zimbabwe. Their final destination was not clear yet. It might be north to militant cells in Kenya or they could remain in the bush country of Zimbabwe to supply anti-government factions there. Toomey was the local operative whose job was to find out where they were headed. Where his allegiance lay was another matter that was uncertain.
Intelligence sources suspected the arms originated in the west. The United States is a major manufacturer of munitions in the world. Some distributors also had economic interests in the mineral wealth of southern Africa. If a little political unrest aided their cause they would consider it acceptable collateral damage. Ed Brown, with the help of Ralph Toomey was close to exposing the operations here. Brown had no illusions that this would end the strife in this part of the world, but if it even delayed the outbreak of a total war for a few years it would be enoug
h. The age was past when combat was waged with machetes and spears, and the carnage was local and limited. Africa, the birthplace of the dominant human species, could also hold the seeds to its ultimate destruction.
Information was the key and Brown couldn't wait for Toomey to resurface. He was reluctant to use secondary sources, but he had no choice now. He had many reservations about Nathan Reynolds, but he would have to contact him. He considered Reynolds a rogue, an unpredictable wild card whose dedication to preserving Africa’s animal resources outweighed any consideration for people or politics. Efforts to recruit him into the organization had failed, but Reynolds did pass on valuable intelligence from time to time when it suited him. Reynolds preferred to get his funding from non-government sources. Maybe mere money couldn’t buy his services, but Ed Brown had another carrot he would dangle in his face.
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Reynolds was out with Mavis testing updated software Paul had installed that morning. Getting Mavis airborne had never been a problem, but sometimes she was difficult to bring home. This new subroutine would not only get Mavis to a designated location, it should give her working parameters to make sure the landing wouldn’t injure her in the process. The program wasn’t perfected yet, but the initial results pleased him.
Reynolds’ cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the caller ID. Ed Brown had been trying to reach him for the last twenty-four hours. Reynolds turned it off and returned his attention to Mavis. Brown could wait until she was safe on the ground and he was back at camp.
Mavis glided to a near perfect landing, avoiding a large pile of rocks that Reynolds had purposely put in her path. “Good girl,” he cooed as he went out to retrieve her. He petted her fondly as he folded her wings, carried her to the jeep and drove to meet Jeffrey and Paul.
He knew something was wrong even before the camp came into view -or what was left of it. Debris covered a wide area. Mangled tents littered the clearing. Wooden boxes of equipment were in splinters. He first considered an elephant raid, but there were no telltale signs except for the destruction. On closer inspection the damage was too extensive and specific to be the result of angry big game.