The Daughters of the Darkness

by Luke Phillips

  “I admit I’m impressed Kelly,” Thomas said as she sat down on the troop bench opposite him. “This must have cost you a pretty penny or two.”

  “The yanks had the plane in storage at RAF Lakenheath. We gave them the opportunity for some much needed flying time in Middle East-like conditions. We’re practically just paying mileage, more than worth it to get the assistance of bona fide flyboys I’d say,” Keelson grinned. “Besides, the vehicles and most of the small arsenal you insisted on bringing were all on you. The rest is just crew and production.”

  Thomas glanced over at the two-man team piling equipment cases to one side at the back of the plane. One in particular, he was very pleased to have with them. He hadn’t known that Danny Reeves’s son was also a wildlife cameraman, but Kelly had. Her eulogy and tribute to Danny’s ultimately ill-fated efforts to track down the marauding cat in the Highlands had clearly had an influence on bringing him into the production. Somehow, it felt right to have a Reeves behind the camera, just as Danny had been when they had made the Hunter Hunted series. Although only in his early twenties, Mason looked a lot like his dad. His thick black hair had a slight curl to it, and his five ’o’ clock shadow was pretty much permanent Thomas guessed. He was slighter than his father had been, but still well built. Thomas had insisted everyone, including Mason, had experience filming wildlife, and predators especially. He caught his eye, and the cameraman walked over to join them.

  “I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly for dropping everything Mason,” Thomas said.

  “It was a no-brainer. Dad would have loved this. I think he wanted it actually. I’m sure he’ll be watching over us,” Mason replied, with the flash of a kind and genuine smile.

  “I certainly hope somebody is,” Catherine butted in, stifling a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head.

  “Better get ready and buckled in,” Keelson stated, “we’re coming into Jomo to meet representatives of the Kenyan government and wildlife authority, before we fly on to the camp at Galana where we’ll be based.”

  As he did up his belt, the desert-camouflage painted wingtip of the plane Thomas could see through the port side window, began to dip as they circled around and prepared to land at Nairobi’s Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. A few moments later, there was a screech of rubber on tarmac and a thud as the plane touched down.

  The two pilots stayed behind to check over the plane and take on more fuel and supplies whilst Thomas, Catherine, Kelly and Mason gingerly made their way down the back ramp of the plane. The other member of the production crew joined them, an Indian sound engineer named Karni Bachchan, who was also a gifted editor and digital specialist. Thomas had been shown his impressive credentials by Keelson and both he and Mason had a number of warzone and wildlife encounters between them, with BBC and National Geographic documentaries to their names.

  At the bottom of the ramp, a Kenyan official waited for them with three armed guards. Thomas guessed he was in his late forties from the hints of grey in his short cropped black hair and his somewhat portly appearance. He beamed a wide smile at Thomas and took his outstretched hand in both of his.

  “Welcome back to Kenya Mr. Walker,” the man said, his enthusiasm instantly warming him to Thomas. “I hope you had a pleasant flight. My name is Hali Diallo and I am a secretary in the Ministry of the Interior. I am to escort you to your meeting.”

  “Thanks for the warm welcome Hali. This is my fiancée Catherine Tyler,” Thomas replied.

  Hali took Catherine’s hand and shook it as vigorously as he had Thomas’s, which made her laugh.

  “Is this your first time to our beautiful country Ms. Tyler?” Hali enquired.

  “Yes,” Catherine replied, “but I’ve always wanted to come here. I studied zoology at university and the wildlife at home isn’t quite as exciting, well at least until recently,” she smiled.

  “Yes, I have heard of your adventures of course,” Hali laughed loudly. “If you and your crew will follow me, we have some refreshments ready for you.”

  They didn’t have to walk far. Hali directed them to a new looking open hangar on the other side of the runway. Thomas noticed it was on a small, seemingly private offshoot of the main strip, above which he could see several commercial airliners on approach. More armed guards, all Kenyan Army, were lined around the entrance of the hangar. Hali strolled past them as if they weren’t there, heading towards the back, where Thomas could see a partition wall consisting of large windows and solid, lightly coloured panels made up an office space. Through the glass he could see a number of officials seated around one end of a long rectangular table.

  “Are we expecting trouble?” Thomas whispered to Kelly just before they passed through the door of the office.

  “Nope. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be any,” she replied quickly, but with a confident smile.

  “Please help yourselves to refreshments before we begin,” Hali beckoned towards a table covered in fresh sliced mango, watermelon and pineapple.

  Thomas could smell the rich Kenyan roast coffee and made straight for the pot of percolating black liquid, pouring himself a cup whilst Hali made the introductions.

  “My colleagues Mr. Bah, Ministry of Defence, Mr. Kone, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Dr. Yeboah of the Ministry of Environment.”

  Each man nodded as Hali said their names. Thomas and the others took their seats. The office was air-conditioned, but the heat and being back on the ground were already having an effect. He felt groggy and tired, but he smiled as he watched Catherine take a huge bite out of a large, triangular piece of pink fleshed watermelon. She wiped the juice from her chin, a glimmer of a giggle in her eye as she caught his smile. Bah was the first to speak. He had the look of a military man, with a crew cut of short black hair and a slight build stuffed into a caramel coloured suit. He studied Thomas with sharp brown eyes.

  “Mr. Walker, we want you to know that you have the full support of the Kenyan government, but that said, our support is very limited. The majority of our forces are deployed protecting villages on the east coast. The threat of terrorism is very real for us, as I’m sure you’re aware of the attacks we have sustained over the recent months. Our main focus is in countering Al-Shabaab’s road blocks and protection rackets operating in the area, new ones of which seem to appear every day. We are also bedded down in the north of Nairobi, where some districts are now controlled by their forces.”

  “I completely understand,” Thomas replied, “we are very grateful to have your blessing to be here at all. I’m very saddened by the attacks on your wonderful city and country, but I thought we’d be out of harm’s way in Tsavo?”

  “Perhaps not,” interjected Hali. “We are aware of a local crime lord operating along the Tanzanian border not far from Tsavo. We suspect he runs guns and drugs for Al-Shabaab, amongst others. When the lions attacked a camp a few weeks back, just over the border in Tanzania, he declared they were under his control and that he was taking back the land from the corrupt whites who have destroyed it. He calls himself Kanu Sultan.”

  “That’s clever,” Thomas smirked. “A self-declared wildcat king.”

  “You know your Swahili Mr. Walker,” acknowledged Dr. Yeboah.

  Thomas turned to him. The man was tall and thin, with short grey hair and a neat beard and moustache. He wore a dark pinstriped suit with a grey jumper underneath. He had kind eyes, which met Thomas’s gaze through a pair of gold rimmed rectangular glasses. He had a quiet air of intelligence about him.

  “But you should be aware that Kenya has changed, in many ways for the worse in your absence,” he continued. “We have lost something like fifty percent of our wildlife, in part at least to a prolific bush meat trade. Outside of the national parks, where you’ll be, the predators are finding it hard to find prey. Reports of aggression and man eating are also on the increase as they clash with farmers and villagers.”

  “And we are concerned that should the situation be misreported in the press,
or worse, things went badly for you, it would affect our already now fragile tourism industry most severely,” added Hali.

  “I can assure you we’re not here to cause trouble,” Kelly said. “In fact, I’d like to think we’re here to help. We’re very grateful for your hospitality and support. As you know, we’ll be working with an established safari company in Tsavo, and I’m sure that can only end up being very positive for tourism. I don’t want to seem indelicate either, but the historical significance of man-eaters being in Tsavo, and Thomas’s involvement should also prove positive for you. It will give the news cycle new feed other than terrorism to chew on, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  “You didn’t want to seem indelicate?!” Catherine snapped, glaring at Keelson, who blushed and sat back a little.

  “She’s right,” Thomas said quietly, his tiredness showing.

  “We agree, generally,” Bah continued. “But we wanted you to know what to expect, and to unfortunately basically tell you you’re on your own.”

  “We’re here to hunt the man-eaters,” Thomas declared, “we’ll stay out of the limelight until the job is well and truly done. Kelly will liaise with you every step of the way with whatever progress we make.”

  “Thank you Mr. Walker,” said Hali. “It’s not that we don’t appreciate you being here, it’s just a very difficult time for the government, and we are naturally cautious of the risks involved. More so of course for you in the literal sense, but we will be held accountable if you fail.”

  “I understand,” Thomas said.

  There was an uneasy silence for a few moments, and Kelly took it as a sign the meeting was over.

  “Thank you gentlemen, we have another flight and some arrangements to make before we can get set up in Tsavo, but we appreciate all your support and assistance,” she declared, getting up from the table.

  The others stood and they exchanged handshakes. Hali nodded to Kone, the one from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, who passed him a manila file. He headed over to Thomas and handed it over. Inside, he found two hunting permits, one for the lions and the other allowing him to take two buffalo, five impala and unlimited bush pig, as well as game birds like francolin and sand grouse to supply the camp with meat if needed. There was also a declaration of special judiciary from the Kenyan Wildlife Service, giving Thomas authority over National Park rangers and staff in case it was ever questioned. Thomas knew that such permissions were very rare and the government were doing all they could to support them.

  “Thank you,” Thomas said. “Kelly has all of the details and will keep in touch with you and your office directly. I presume we can leave it to you to keep your colleagues informed?”

  “Of course, I am sorry we cannot do more, but I think you probably have greater resources than we do at the moment,” Hali admitted.

  As they left the hangar, Kelly, Mason and Kali peeled off to the side. The camera equipment had been unloaded from the plane and they gathered around it, deep in conversation. Thomas and Catherine waited for Kelly to join them.

  “We’re going to drive to Tsavo from here and get some stock footage along the way. We’ve hired a truck and the boys are just off to get it. We’ll see you there,” she explained.

  “That’s a good 150 miles, rather you than me,” Thomas laughed.

  He waved at the two men and Keelson as he and Catherine walked back up the loading ramp of the plane. With a pneumatic whir, it began to close behind them and he heard the twin turboprops splutter into life. With the paperwork in his hand and just the short flight to the camp ahead of them, he suddenly felt a little dizzy. For the past three weeks, it hadn’t really felt like it was happening, especially with Keelson handling most of the arrangements. He looked over the assorted gun cases and the customised Land Rover that made up most of the cargo. They brought him little comfort. Once again, he was on the trail of man-eaters. But this time, it wasn’t a lone animal in the Highlands or an isolated case in some distant jungle. This time, he was going back to Tsavo and facing a whole pride with a legacy, one that included his dead wife.

  CHAPTER SIX

  There was a jolt as the big plane turned and began to drop towards the short, dust-red landing strip gouged into the savannah. Catherine leant forward, tensing and clutching at her stomach as they dropped again. Thomas placed his hand gently on her back to comfort her. It didn’t help. The plane landed heavily, sending a ripple of jolts and bangs along the fuselage. Catherine snapped off her buckle and jumped from her seat, dashing towards the small toilet behind the cockpit. The slam of the door and the roar of the turboprops almost drowned out the sound of her retching, but not quite. Thomas stared at the closed door between them uneasily.

  I might have to make alternative arrangements for the return trip he thought.

  As the engines coughed and began to splutter as the plane powered down, Thomas unbuckled himself from the troop bench and looked out of the window. Africa glared back, the bright afternoon sun burning at his retinas. He could see an old battered open top Land Rover sitting a little way off, and a group of four men standing around it. He turned round as Catherine reappeared, looking a little pale. He grabbed a bottle of water from his pack. She took it from him and supped at it in large gulps.

  “Rough flight, but we’re here now,” he cooed, stroking her hair as she leant against him for a moment.

  “I’m just so tired,” she spluttered. “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to apologise about, don’t worry. We’ve all done it,” he assured her. “But make sure you have enough to drink, it’s going to be important you keep hydrated whilst we’re here.”

  She stood up slowly, using his arm for support.

  “I am glad we’re here,” she whispered, giving him a hug.

  “Come on,” he said, “there’s somebody I want you to meet.”

  They walked down the ramp at the back of the aircraft hand in hand. They turned away from the plane and out of the strong glare of the sun, heading towards the shade of a huge, thick trunked baobab tree, under which the Land Rover was parked. As they drew near, the man behind the wheel of the vehicle jumped out and raced towards them. The native Kenyan wore a khaki coloured safari shirt and shorts, and was almost as tall as Thomas, but with a barrel chest and thick arms. Thomas dropped Catherine’s hand just in time as the man drove into him with a powerful embrace that knocked the breath from him.

  “Thomas my old friend,” the man declared. “I thank you for coming. It is so good to see you after so long.”

  “I had to come. I’m sorry about Jabari,” Thomas replied, gripping the man by the shoulders. “Jelani Jang, may I introduce you to Catherine Tyler. It’s her first time here, and I expect her to get your full safari experience.”

  “Welcome Catherine,” beamed Jelani. He leant in close to her. “As you are currently my only client, it shouldn’t be difficult,” he whispered.

  “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” suggested Thomas, “I need to help get the gear unloaded.”

  He turned back towards the plane. Jelani’s men had already started taking some of the smaller packs from the cargo hold, and were beginning to collect them into piles on the ground. He walked up the ramp and called two of them over.

  “Your rides for the trip to camp gentlemen,” he explained, throwing them a set of keys each as he did so. “Pack them up as best you can, but we’ll let the cars do most of the grunt work.”

  The men grinned and climbed onto the two Can-Am Outlander ATVs. They turned the engines over and then pointed the black and orange painted 4x4s down the ramp, putting on a turn of speed as they hit the dust and pulling up by the piles of gear. Thomas turned to the customised Land Rover Defender Pickup. When it had first been built for him for the Hunter Hunted series, it had been the same dull green as most safari vehicles. Now it had been completely overhauled by a company called Twisted Automotive. The new tobacco brown coloured paintwork glimmered even in the dark hold of the plane, completely in contrast to the black custom
bull bar, snorkel, cargo rack, winch and light rig. It sat purposely on its 18-inch, five spoke alloy wheels – also painted black and clad in heavy duty all-terrain tyres.

  He opened the driver’s door and climbed in. Inside, the car had been further transformed. The sport seats were clad in deep mahogany and chestnut leather, and housed inbuilt fans for cooling. A polished maple wooden steering wheel with three aluminium spokes had replaced the factory issue, and all of the electronics, from the climate system to the folding canvas roof that covered the front cabin, had been fully upgraded with modern parts. The suspension and brakes were race-tuned, as was the reinforced floor and chassis. It was the same car, yet felt completely different. He turned the key in the ignition, smiling as it growled into life first time. Modern reliability was also something new. He rolled the car down the ramp, turning to the left and rumbling past the men packing up the ATVs. He gently pressed the accelerator, releasing a tiny whine from the pent-up supercharger before he trundled to a stop in front of Jelani and Catherine.

  “Mine’s bigger than yours,” he said with a smug laugh.

  He climbed out and handed the keys to Catherine.

  “She looks a little bit different from when I last saw her,” Jelani said, surprised.

  “Ten years is a long time, especially when you’ve spent seven of them in storage,” Thomas said. “She needed some TLC, but there was only one car I was ever going to bring here. Cath, may I present to you the Big Cat.”