There were no lights in the corridor ahead but he could make things out well enough from the kitchen glow. There were three doors on each side. It was unlikely they would all be bedrooms. If he was to find Ana, he was just going to have to try them one door at a time and pray there was nobody else inside one of the rooms.
His heart pounding he eased open the first door on the left hand side. There was a stale smell but no sign of life. He tried the opposite door. There was the same unpleasant sweaty odour and clothes were strewn round the floor. On the bed were two AK-47s. He was tempted to take one but rejected the idea. He didn’t even know how the safety mechanism worked. Next there was a bathroom and Mike didn’t bother to open the door fully, it was clearly empty. The room on the other side simply mirrored it. Then he came to the furthest door on the left-hand side. The handle turned but as he pushed it the door refused to move. He tried again a little harder, it protested but didn’t budge and was clearly locked.
It could only be locked for two reasons, because there was something or someone important inside. He was conscious of the activity at the front of the house now and could clearly hear the rise and fall of men’s voices. He tapped lightly on the door but there was no response. He tried again a little louder with the same result and was just about to turn away when he heard movement inside.
“Ana is that you?” he whispered. “It’s Mike here.”
There was no response so he tried again, but louder. “Ana, it’s Mike.”
“Mike?” There was uncertainty in the voice but there was no doubting who it belonged to.
“How did you get here? Who’s with you?”
“There’s no time to talk. I’m on my own and there’s one chance only to get you out of here. There is no key on the outside so I’ll have to use brute force but as soon as I do the noise will bring them running. Are you in good enough shape to run?”
“Yes Mike but…”
“Right just stand back and be prepared to move as quickly as you can.”
Although tall and rather gangly he had spent his life outside in the bush. There was no fat on him, only muscle. He stepped back to the opposite wall and in the limited space took two steps forward as powerfully as he could and hammered into the door with his right shoulder. Pain swept down his arm but he didn’t give it a second thought and hit the door hard again. There was a splintering of wood and the door sagged inwards but it needed one more hit.
As it flew open he immediately made out Ana’s silhouette in the middle of the room.
“Come quickly,” he shouted, all pretence at silence now futile.
They ran down the corridor towards the light of the kitchen and as they reached it they heard the front door opening and the sound of shouting behind them.
Half pulling her with him Mike strode outside to the table, dragging it to the wall, plates and glasses smashing all around; he knew this would give Ana the height she needed to get over the top.
“Stay just where you are,” grated the familiar voice from behind. “You’re going nowhere.” The Somali made a lunge for Ana, moving with surprising speed despite his limp.
“No you stay just where you are!” shouted Mike, the old revolver pointing unhesitatingly at the man he had come to loathe. But the Somali didn’t pause and Mike pulled the trigger.
There was a loud click but that was all and as the Somali reached Ana, he was positively smiling. She was half on the table and kicked out as hard as she could, aiming for his head but he caught her foot and pulled, bringing her crashing to the ground. Yanking her up with animal force he held her directly in front of him, one arm up almost to breaking point behind her back.
“Do you fancy your chances at another shot?” he laughed without humour. “Come on, you’ve failed at everything else, perhaps this is something you might get right.”
“Just shoot Mike, we’re as good as dead anyway. Might as well go down fighting!”
Mike’s face was a picture of indecision. He was not a trained shot with a revolver and with Ana as a shield there were few places he could even aim for. And of course it might misfire again anyway. Yet he knew she was right, if he put down the gun they could expect no mercy. The advantage was that he was close, even a poor marksman had a chance.
He kept the gun up, his back to the wall. The Somali was trying to pull Ana back to the house and he followed them with the barrel of the gun but he simply couldn’t risk hitting her, not after getting this far.
Ana could feel the ivory blade. It lay nestled in her right forearm under the sleeve of her shirt but although she shook her arm vigorously it wouldn’t move, the point stuck under one of the African bracelets she wore round her wrist. She raised her arm up high as though to reach for the face of the man who held her in such an iron grip and as she did so the blade fell back into her elbow. He shoved her forward violently and in that movement she suddenly felt the cool of the ivory in her hand. The pain everywhere else seemed to evaporate. This man, this excuse for a human being, symbolised everything she detested. And with a strength she didn’t even know she possessed she stabbed down into his thigh, the ivory cutting through trousers and flesh like a knife in fresh mango.
With a roar he let her go, his hand scrabbling frantically at the white skewer of ivory sticking out of his leg. Two loud shots rang out, echoing round the rear courtyard. The look on the Somali’s face registered only surprise as he stared down at his chest, his shirt already dark with blood. His knees buckled as he toppled sideways, his head striking the brick surface heavily.
“Over the wall now Ana! No arguments just go. Now, otherwise all this has been for nothing!”
She hobbled onto the table once more and reaching up heaved her body onto the top as two other Somalis entered the yard, AK-47s in their hands. As she let herself fall, legs ill prepared for the sudden impact of the ground, she heard the single, distinctive sound of a revolver shot followed by a long burst of machine gun fire. Then as she lay there in the Malindi dust she heard the unmistakable wail of several police sirens coming out of the night, growing in strength as they sped ever nearer.
Chapter Nineteen
Ana played with the curry on her plate, half-heartedly chasing the few remaining prawns round the rim with a fork. She hadn’t been particularly hungry, just as she didn’t really feel tired, even though there had now been a number of days with little or no sleep. A grey fog seemed to swirl permanently round her head and although she craved being able to break out, one monotonous day followed another.
Across the table Harry felt equally listless. More than anything else he wanted to reach out to her, to be reassuring that all would be well, but despite his efforts Ana had remained distant and unresponsive.
Inspector Mwitu had been instructed to make sure they remained at the coast until the bulk of the investigations had been completed. He had explained, rather apologetically, that because they were such important witnesses to what had happened, it wasn’t realistic for them to return to Uwingoni just yet.
Ollie’s friends had kindly offered them rooms in their home but it hadn’t been thought sensible to remain in Malindi itself. It didn’t seem that they would be in any immediate danger but Jim had a friend with a secluded house just up the coast in Watamu that seemed a sensible option. At any other time it would have been idyllic, a pretty garden sloped gently down to a small coral built wall with a rickety gate and beyond was the most beautiful of white beaches, with the Indian Ocean lapping gently at its edge.
Each morning they were on the shore line before even the first rays of the sun peaked over the horizon to silhouette the fishing boats anchored within wading distance of the beach. Crabs scuttled in and out of an array of holes leaving their delicate prints in the virgin sand. Although both of them appreciated the beauty of their surroundings they longed for the familiarity of Uwingoni.
On the fifth day Inspector Mwitu arrived just after lunch and much to their delight and surprise he was accompanied by Jim.
“I know you
two must be bored by this beautiful scenery and to be honest everyone is missing you too. So the long and short of it is that I have persuaded the Inspector to let you return with me so you had better get your bags.”
“Oh Jim, you’re a star.” Ana positively threw herself at him, her arms locked round his back in a long squeeze. “That is the best of all news. Thank you so much for agreeing to this Inspector. You’re very understanding.”
“Well I had to call in a few favours and it’s not as though we won’t know where to find you. For the moment you have given us all the possible assistance you can and your statements are wonderfully detailed which will help enormously.”
Harry could feel his heart leap, not just because they were heading back to the Reserve but because in those few seconds he has seen a sudden glimpse of the old Ana.
“We have made quite a number of arrests, not just in Malindi, but up country too. The tentacles of this poaching network stretched into areas you wouldn’t believe. Even Mr Kariuki is now in a cell in Nairobi so you might be getting your supplies from somewhere else in future.
“Oh goodness,” exclaimed Harry. “I suppose we did see him with Mr Hu on one occasion.”
“Yes. He was too greedy for his own good. His type can never resist the chance of making some extra cash, especially if they think they are well protected. Fortunately you have someone in your organisation who has been a great help to us over the years. As it’s only the three of you here, I’m sure Mr Aziz wouldn’t mind you knowing that.”
“Aziz, well who would have thought it?” grinned Jim. “Always considered there was more to him than met the eye.”
Harry looked uncomfortable, shifting his feet restlessly on the floor. “I know he’s not your favourite person Harry but you can never judge a book by its cover.” Ana gave him a slap on the back, “Now where did we last hear that expression? I’m only pulling your leg.”
Jim and the Inspector looked a little confused. “Oh, just a private joke between us,” she smiled.
“Well, let’s get packed now.” Harry was keen to change the subject and at the same time the picture of Uwingoni was ever large in his head.
The engine of the six-seater Cessna hummed contentedly and Ana chatted about all manner of things with their young pilot. Charlie could only have been in her early twenties yet she flew the plane with an easy confidence, her hands on the controls always seeming totally relaxed. Ana realised that it was ages since she had talked for any length of time to another young woman. Charlie’s knowledge of East Africa was wide ranging, despite her youth, and Ana found herself asking a whole array of questions about subjects she hadn’t really given much thought to. The frenzy of social media with much of its shallowness was something she was glad to be away from; so much that filled the thoughts of millions seemed trite and unimportant. However, talking face to face with someone who criss-crossed this huge area on a daily basis and saw the reality of people’s lives, was both revealing and refreshing. Whether it was the never-ending curse of corruption that kept so many in grinding poverty, the aspirations of young women allowed a proper education at last, or the unhealthy influence of other nations, Charlie had well informed opinions on it all.
As Ana gazed out of the side window they were passing over a town, typical of many she had seen, where the huge increase in population was pushing ever outwards into the wild of Africa. It wasn’t just that people needed land for their crops and businesses, that was understandable but there rarely seemed to be a plan. Trees and habitats were destroyed and the wildlife killed or driven off. What was the matter with the world? Everywhere there seemed to be conflict, if people weren’t fighting each other then they seemed at war with nature.
“Are you alright Ana?” She was aware of the concern in Charlie’s voice and glancing across she could feel the wetness of the tears on her cheeks.
“I’m fine thanks. Just letting my thoughts get the better of me.”
Bethwell was there to pick them up at the strip and they couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of his greeting. As they made their way up towards the camp he was full of stories and as usual all the characters were people who worked in the Reserve. Of course they were exaggerated, but that was part of the magic of being back.
Uwingoni slowly began to work its special charm and as the days turned into weeks both Ana and Harry started to enjoy the pleasure of simply living in the present. The past would always be part of who they were and they couldn’t undo that but learning to live in the moment became an easier way of dealing with each day.
Ana wrote and painted more than ever but gradually became less solitary and evenings were spent chatting round the fire once more. Harry and Kilifi became more like father and son, tracking and observing wildlife of all descriptions whenever they could.
Inspector Mwitu kept Jim updated when possible. There had been further arrests up at Prosperity Dam. Mr Pang had flown over from China to deal with the crisis personally and had toured the project with two Government ministers and replaced most of the management team. However, the building of the dam was continuing almost as though nothing had happened. Of his nephew Michael, there appeared no sign. The whispers behind the scene were that he had been spirited back to China. Of course they would never really know but that seemed a pretty good bet.
On the day of the funeral it was a perfect Uwingoni morning. There were some delicate white clouds on the far horizon but everywhere else was an unspoilt blue. A pair of eagles rode the invisible air currents overhead, making minute alterations to their flight with effortless ease.
The sounds of Africa were all around them. Birdsong seemed to echo off the branches and the gentlest of winds caressed the dry grass; in the background the sound of crickets merged with the grunting of distant wildebeest.
It was a morning Mike would have loved and so it seemed fitting that so many were there to say their goodbyes.
They had gathered, not long after dawn, at his favourite waterhole. For a man who considered he had few friends he would have been surprised at the number of people who came to pay their final respects. Those he had taken on amazing safaris, friends going back to his childhood days in Nairobi and of course so many of the wonderful people who worked at Uwingoni.
There was no bitterness, only forgiveness for a man whose soul must have been tortured beyond belief in the final months of his life.
Everyone knew of his sacrifice in Malindi. Indeed it had been splashed over the front page of the national newspapers. The poaching ring had been completely broken, and Al-Shabaab dealt a serious blow.
The several tons of ivory that had been recovered had been taken away by KWS to be safely stockpiled, and no doubt it would be publicly burnt as had happened to the staggering one hundred and five tons back in 2016.
Jim had said some moving words and displayed emotion nobody had witnessed before as Mike’s ashes had been scattered around the water’s edge. Then gradually everyone had drifted off back to camp, no doubt despite the hour, to toast the health of a man with White Cap, his favourite beer.
Only Bluebird remained. Harry and Ana sat silently on the old canvas seats, the physical scars now gone but united in ways they couldn’t really put into words.
“How do you see your future now Ana?”
“Well, I’d love to stay, if Jim will put up with me. I want to start writing again. That journalist is always there inside me and there are so many stories to tell from this remarkable country.”
She looked across at him and smiled, “And you?”
“We’ve touched on some of these subjects before but the last couple of months have brought everything into focus for me. All my life I have really wanted to belong. That’s hard to explain to those who have never felt that sense of always being a little lost. My parents are lovely people and I know they understand. Uwingoni has become my home in ways that nowhere else ever has.”
Even as he spoke they both became aware of movement in the far trees and with an ease and grace t
hey had learnt to love, a small herd of elephants emerged from the bush for their morning drink. In the lead was Mara and close on her heels Meru who scampered forward to be the first to the water.
Copyright
Published by Clink Street Publishing 2020
Copyright © 2020
First edition.
The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means with-out the prior consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that with which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN: 978–1–912850–88–4 (paperback)
ISBN: 978–1–912850–89–1 (ebook)
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