by Tony Park
‘Hi, Chris,’ he said.
‘Hello, Mort, what did you find out?’
‘And a good afternoon to you, too. Never mind, I’ll keep it short.’
‘So?’
‘So, nothing. No one by the name of Miranda Banks, Miranda Banks-Lewis or Miranda Lewis exited Zimbabwe or, for that matter, entered any of the neighbouring countries in the last three weeks. The last record they have of her was crossing into South Africa a few weeks ago and then back into Zimbabwe a while later.’
‘That was when she came to see me, in Kruger.’
‘Only means one thing, kiddo,’ Mort said.
‘I guess so.’
‘Miranda hasn’t run away and joined the circus, Chris, and you’d better start getting used to the idea.’
‘I guess you’re right. See you, Mort, and thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it. I’ll buy you a drink when you get home. Ciao, babe.’
Chris hung up and dismantled the antenna. Another door had closed. She trudged back to the lodge, secured the phone in its case and walked to Jed’s room. She stood in the doorway and looked down at him. His face was peaceful in sleep, his lips parted a little. He was shirtless, dressed only in boxer shorts. She appraised his well-defined, tanned body. There was not an ounce of fat on him. He was not overly hairy, either, which pleased her.
‘Jed,’ she whispered.
He didn’t stir, and she wondered for a moment if she should leave him be for the rest of the afternoon. Still, she had packed the cold box with beer and crackers and cheese and fruit. This would probably be his last sunset in the bush and she wanted him to go home with at least one pleasant memory of Africa. In fact, she wished the same thing for herself. Even before Miranda’s disappearance, a cloud had been hanging over her position and the funding for her lion research was in danger of being redirected to projects of more interest to the organisation that paid her. Who knew where she would end up next? She’d been offered a teaching job in the States and wondered once again if she should make the decision to leave Africa before someone else made it for her.
She moved to the bed, and placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. ‘Jed,’ she said a little louder. ‘Jed, wake up.’
He opened his eyes, a little confused at first, then saw her and smiled. ‘What time is it?’
‘Ten after four. You still want to go out?’
‘Sure. Do you?’ he asked, rubbing his eyes.
‘Definitely. I’ll leave you to get dressed. I’ve got everything packed.’
Jed pulled on a khaki T-shirt, trousers and his boots and met up with Chris again downstairs.
‘Good to go, ma’am,’ he said as he closed the back door and got into her vehicle.
‘Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me sound like either an old lady or an officer, and I’m neither.’
‘I wouldn’t be sitting here if you were,’ he said, and they both laughed. ‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
They headed east along the river road and took a right when they came to the crossroads near the park headquarters.
‘We’re heading away from the river now. That’s Long Pool, on the right, the biggest of the five permanent waterholes.’
Jed saw a herd of zebra filing towards the expanse of brown stagnant water, the stallion in the lead nervously looking around him for crouching killers. They passed through an open plain of golden grass dotted with impala, waterbuck and comical little warthogs, whose tails stuck up like radio antennae when they took flight at the sound of the Land Rover. Chris took a left turn off the main road onto a badly rutted track that climbed and dipped over a series of dry creek beds. Jed gripped the dashboard in front of him as the vehicle bounced and swayed. ‘Quite a road.’
‘You should see it in the rainy season.’
‘This must be a pretty special place we’re going to. I didn’t think there’d be anything to top the view of the river at sunset,’ Jed said.
‘Just let me know what you think when we get there.’
A few minutes later Chris eased the vehicle off the road into the shade of a clump of trees. ‘Come with me. It’s just on the other side of these bushes.’
Jed was speechless. Unlike the other waterholes he had seen in the park, the water here was a deep blue. It covered an area about half the size of a football field and a big tree dominated the left side. Its massive branches were so heavy with giant birds’ nests that they drooped almost to the surface of the water. The setting sun was like a huge fairytale pumpkin suspended above the trees and its reflection was captured perfectly on the mirror-smooth surface. The combination of water, trees, sunset and a lone bull elephant that slowly approached the far side of the life-giving reservoir captured Africa’s beauty in a single vista.
Chris opened the back of the Land Rover and pulled out a picnic blanket and the cold box. She laid the blanket down and they sat close to each other.
‘Miranda told me in an email once that this had become her favourite place,’ Chris said.
‘I can see why. Thanks for bringing me here.’
‘In return you can open us a couple of beers.’
‘A small price to pay’ Jed knocked the caps off two ice-cold Zambezi Lagers and handed a foaming bottle to Chris.
She raised her hand to her mouth and licked off the spilled froth. Jed realised he was staring at her.
She smiled. ‘Can’t waste a drop.’
‘Here’s to Africa,’ he said, raising his bottle.
‘No, here’s to Miranda,’ she countered.
‘To Miranda.’ They clinked bottles and Jed looked out over the peaceful waterhole. ‘I said my goodbyes to her today, Chris.’
‘I know. I think it’s for the best, Jed. It was good you came all this way, that you found out how she lived and what she was doing.’
‘I still don’t know a hell of a lot about either of those things, but I don’t regret coming.’
‘Neither do I – I mean, I’m pleased you’re here, even though I may have seemed a bit defensive at first.’
‘I know it’s been hard for you too, Chris.’
‘She was my friend. No, more than that. Miranda was … well, if I’d married and had a child, I would have wanted her to be just like Miranda.’
Jed noticed Chris blinking and wondered if she was fighting back tears. He placed his beer on the ground and put his hand on her shoulder.
She leaned closer to him and he put his arm all the way around her. Chris rested her cheek on Jed’s shoulder, staring at the waterhole for a few seconds. When she turned her face to him he kissed her tenderly. She put her arms around his neck, drew him closer, and parted her lips as he kissed her again.
Jed felt her tongue darting into his mouth. His body stirred as he breathed in the scent of her. It had been months since he had been with a woman and he found himself desperately wanting to consume every inch of Christine Wallis as soon as he possibly could. He lay back and she allowed herself to be drawn down onto the blanket with him. His hand caressed her neck, then moved to her breast. She did not resist, so he undid her shirt buttons, sliding a hand inside. He felt her heart racing as his callused palm brushed her hardening nipple. Jed looked around, and over his shoulder. ‘Will anyone come here?’
‘Only me if you keep going like this,’ she giggled.
Jed smiled and kissed her again. She moved her hand to his trousers, clutching, hooking her fingers in the waistband. Jed had been led to the waterhole. He didn’t need to be shown how to drink. He undid the rest of her buttons, freed a breast from her bra and sucked greedily on a nipple.
Chris closed her eyes and revelled in the feel of him, the smell of him. Jed undid the belt on her shorts, then the button and the zip. She raised her hips off the ground to allow him to slide her pants down. She kicked them off over her boots and he kissed his way down over her smooth, tanned belly Chris tried to roll over, but Jed placed a restraining hand on her belly and moved between her thig
hs.
She drew her knees up and ran her hands through his hair as he pulled the triangle of her thong to one side and parted her swollen lips with the tip of his tongue.
‘Oh, God,’ she breathed as he found her clitoris.
It had been so long since he had tasted a woman that he found the musky tang of her almost overwhelming. His erection strained at his trousers, longing for release. Chris ground herself against his tongue and face and he felt her thighs start to close around him.
He raised his head and saw her eyes were closed tight. Sensing his stare she opened her eyes and looked down at him across her body Jed rolled onto his side and slithered up the blanket, replacing his tongue with his fingers, but she gently took his hand and moved it away. She reached for the zipper of his fatigues and freed him, staring wantonly into his eyes as she stroked him. ‘I want you,’ she said, then lowered her mouth to him. It was his turn to lie back in ecstasy.
When he felt himself nearing his climax he drew her up beside him on the blanket. He moved between her legs, spreading them wide, touching her, rubbing her, then stopped. ‘Damn,’ he said.
‘What is it, Jed?’
‘I don’t have any protection.’
‘I don’t care, Jed.’ She wasn’t taking any contraceptive pill as she always practised safe sex, but she could not remember wanting a man so badly She was willing to risk it.
Jed was aware of the risks the simple act of sex carried with it these days, but he, too, was blind to his desire. He moved to her and entered her in one long, smooth stroke. Chris gasped as he filled her, excited by the swift way he had taken her, knowing she would yield to him. The feeling of his bare cock inside her heightened her arousal. She raised her bottom and ground herself against him.
She wrapped her legs around the small of his back, drawing him deeper inside her.
He drove harder and faster into her body, kissing her mouth, her neck, her cheeks. When he again felt himself close to finishing he paused, wanting to delay their climaxes as long as possible. ‘Get on top of me,’ he commanded her.
Chris straddled him, locking eyes with him as she slowly lowered herself down on his shaft. ‘God, you feel good,’ she said. She hiked up his T-shirt and placed her hands on his chest, her fingers clawing at the golden hair as she rode him. Jed thrust himself up into her, moving his hands to her breasts and sucking on each nipple in turn. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their coupling as raw and natural as that of any other two creatures in the African wilderness.
‘I’m going to come,’ he warned her, in case she wanted to move off him.
Chris was breathing faster now. ‘Inside me,’ she whispered.
Afterwards, they lay still and spent on the picnic blanket, the soft evening breeze cooling the perspiration on their bodies. Jed reached over and brushed a damp strand of hair from Chris’s face.
‘I’ve got to leave soon, probably tomorrow,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘Our lives … It’s hard to know when we’ll meet again.’
‘When, or if?’
‘I’d like to see you again, if we can manage it.’
‘I’ve been approached about a teaching position in Virginia. It starts next fall.’ Chris lay with one leg hooked over his, unwilling to break contact with him.
‘Virginia? I’ve had some people at Langley after me for a while.’ He laughed a little at the revelation.
‘CIA?’
‘Other Government Agencies, as we used to say in Afghanistan. The agency’s always looking for ex-military people. Building up their own little private army again, just like in the sixties.’
‘How would you feel about leaving the Army?’
He laughed again. ‘I’ve been in more than my fair share of wars, Chris. A little time back home wouldn’t hurt me at all. Also, I’d like to think I can pass on a trick or two that might save some rookie in the future.’
‘I think you’d be a great teacher,’ she said.
‘Would you want to see me again, if we were both living in Virginia? Or is this just the time, the place, the circumstances coming together?’
‘You tell me.’
He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I can’t forget what happened here, how we met, but in a funny way that would be OK. I didn’t know Miranda for very much of her life and I don’t want to forget my daughter. You would remind me of her every day – in a good way, I mean.’
‘Go home, see your ex-wife and lay Miranda’s memory to rest properly After that, send me an email and tell me if you’re going to end up in Virginia. We could see each other back in the States and work out where we go from here. I’m ninety-nine per cent certain I’m going to take that teaching job.’
‘What would it take to make you a hundred per cent certain?’
‘This,’ she said as she encircled him with her hand and rolled on top of him again.
Chapter 14
‘Your itinerary is confirmed, General. You’ll be leaving from Dallas on Tuesday, as planned.’
‘Thanks, Janey,’ Lieutenant General Donald ‘Crusher’ Calvert said to his civilian personal assistant. He had given up the fantasy that his staff might get used to calling him by his first name now that he was retired. ‘Anything in the papers today?’
‘The press clippings are in your email inbox, sir. The one from the Post is interesting.’
‘Interesting?’
She pulled a print-out from a sheaf of other papers in the crook of her left arm and said, ‘The headline is MR CRUSHER GOES TO WASHINGTON, question mark.’
‘Very funny. What else does it say?’
‘Retired general Donald “Crusher” Calvert is being promoted as a potential congressional nominee by senior unnamed Republican Party sources in the lead-up to next year’s election.
Calvert, fifty-four, a Vietnam combat veteran, former commander of the 18th Airborne Corps and, most recently, Coalition forces in Afghanistan, caught the public’s eye and imagination as the fastand-
hard-talking Pentagon spokesman during the invasion of Iraq and subsequent operations against Islamic extremist terrorists around the world. Should I start calling you “congressman” now, sir?’
‘Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Janey’ For now, the behind-the-scenes machinations of the Hill could wait. He was going hunting. He leaned back in his leather office chair and eagerly opened the folder Janey had placed in front of him. This was a holiday, his first in three years. ‘I see we haven’t lost any time on safari by changing countries,’ he said as Janey cleared a pile of files from his out-tray.
‘No, sir. I was quite adamant with the travel people that the new arrangements shouldn’t eat into your time on the ground.’
‘Good, good.’
‘I’m still worried for you, sir.’
‘Oh, don’t fret, Janey. Zambia may not be the safest place in the world, but it’s one of the few places where I can still hunt big game. The area I’m going to is about as remote as it gets in Africa these days, so there’s no risk of political agitation or anything like that.’
‘I know, sir. I’ve read the security assessments -they’re in the folder too, by the way – but I can’t help thinking you’d be better off in the Bahamas or maybe Australia.’
He laughed. ‘I’d be mobbed in places like that, and probably for all the wrong reasons. No, this is my chance to get away from it all and to hell with anyone who tries to stop me.’
‘Yes, sir. Do you think the bombings in Tanzania will have any repercussions elsewhere on the continent?’
‘That’s the thing about terrorists, Janey, you never know where they’re going to strike. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but we can only go on the CIA and State Department assessments. There’s no way I could flout the current travel ban on Tanzania – that would undermine the present administration and send the wrong message to American tourists.’
The irony of the situation was that the lodge in Zambia had been his first choice
for this coming trip. Botswana, where he had first hunted in Africa, was now off his list of possible safari destinations, as the government there had recently banned commercial hunting of dangerous game – opting instead to concentrate on tourism only.
He had hunted in South Africa, but been unimpressed with the lack of sport involved in the lion hunt he had been taken on. While the animal had a decent mane, it was so old and slow it looked as though it might have had a heart attack or died of other natural causes if he hadn’t put it out of its misery Despite the denials of the owner of the lodge, he suspected the animal had been drugged prior to his arrival. It had all gone a little too smoothly He knew some South African hunting ranches had been exposed in the media for staging ‘caged’ hunts, in which the animals had no chance at all of escaping the hunter. What he wanted was a true test of wits, stamina and courage between man and beast, and he needed somewhere wild for it.
Wylde Heart Safaris in Zambia had been recommended to him by a retired admiral at a cocktail party. A booking had been made, but later cancelled after a telephone call from the Secretary of State.
The Secretary, a one-time brother officer with whom Calvert had served in Vietnam, and who knew of his impending retirement, had asked him if he would accompany him to a regional security conference in Dar es Salaam.
‘You can still go on safari, Donny, after the conference,’ the Secretary had assured him. ‘I need you there as an adviser to brief the delegates on our worldwide operations against Al Qaeda.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Calvert had answered respectfully, then added, ‘I’m honoured, but surely you know as much as me about our current efforts.’
‘You want me to spell it out for you, Crusher, you old dog? You’re the public face of the war on terror these days. The other politicians and soldiers there will respect your view, plus the exposure won’t hurt you. Do your hunting for a week after the conference and you can fly back with me after I finish some glad-handing in Kenya and Uganda.’
