Cargo: A Leine Basso Thriller (14 page)

Several hours later
, Derek pulled off-road and parked in the shade of an acacia tree. Leine helped him haul out a camp table and two chairs, and put water on to boil. When the water was hot enough, he reconstituted a couple of freeze-dried dinners in their pouches. Leine chose the beef stew and stood up to eat, enjoying the reprieve from the Rover.

Leine had been fascinated throughout the drive. They’d passed herds of zebra, impala, and buffalo and had to wait for a family of elephants to cross the road in front of them. Giraffe sightings became almost routine, and they’d spotted a pride of lions. Leine marveled at the diversity of wildlife, wishing Santa was there to see it all.

After lunch, Derek pulled out a cigar and offered it to Leine. She shook her head. He shrugged and lit the end with a waterproof match.

“We’re getting close to the region where Wang likes to set up camp,” he said, a cloud of smoke encircling his head.

“I assume we’re talking about a large area?”

Derek nodded. “Yeh, it’s large, all right. A few thousand kilometers.”

“A few thousand,” Leine repeated, unsure she’d heard correctly. “Then we’ll need a plan. I’d rather not waste time driving without some idea how to find the place.” Leine didn’t like winging it, not when there were lives at stake. Improvisation had its place. Just not at the beginning of an operation.

“Don’t worry so much. I’ve got a plan,” Derek assured her. 

“Were you going to let me in on it, or do I have to guess as we go along?” Her cheeks grew warm, a sure sign her blood pressure was on the rise.
Calm down, Leine. Derek just approaches problems from a different angle than you do.
She inhaled deeply and waited.

“
Ja, ja
. See,” he leaned forward and picked a twig off the ground. “Here’s Wang’s natural habitat.” He drew a rough rectangle in the dirt. “And here,” he tapped the upper left quadrant, “is where he likes to be. The wildlife is abundant, and the few park rangers who patrol the area are known to accept bribes.” Derek leaned back. “So, all we really have to do is find a willing ranger and pay him more than Wang.”

“Fine. Say we find the camp. How do we get inside without Wang’s knowledge? He knows us both. I assume it’s billed as the ultimate experience, right? Where servants are at your beck and call, no request too outrageous? Won’t they alert Wang if we’re recognized?”

“We won’t have to worry. Wang hates the rainy season. He only visits in early fall and occasionally in December. Bangkok’s more his style, although he has been known to come out looking for trophies, so in theory, anything’s possible. I thought we’d pose as a married couple looking for an ‘authentic’ experience. The ranger will contact the camp for us. The trick is finding the right ranger. Not all of them are corrupt, although in that area they are more often than not.”

“Have any idea who you’re going to ask?”

“Don’t worry.”

“Let me guess. You have a plan for that, too.”

Derek smiled. “Why yes, I do. Thank you for asking.”

She groaned inwardly. “Can we please just do this?” After so many years of being a free agent, Leine found it difficult to work with someone else. Especially a person like Derek, who was apparently more concerned with fitting into his exclusive neighborhood in Dar than rescuing people who’d been trapped for days inside a shipping container.

Derek sighed and stubbed out his cigar. “I guess we’ll be on our way, then.”

“I guess.”

***

They drove for two more hours before Derek stopped outside a village of mud huts and thatched roofs. Men and women wearing brightly colored clothing regarded the Rover with mild interest. A number of goats ambled through the village staying just out of reach of a young boy.

“Maasai,” Derek explained. “A friend of mine lives here. He has his ear to the ground and might know where Wang’s camp is.”

Derek exited the vehicle and walked toward one of the buildings. Leine did the same, and several of the younger children crowded around her, laughing and vying for attention. The older children kept their distance, mimicking their elders.

One of the villagers, a younger man with finely braided, ochre-hued hair and dressed in a brilliant red
shuka,
broke free of the crowd and walked up to Derek. The younger man’s expression was anything but happy, and Derek let his arms fall to his sides, his friendly smile replaced by uncertainty. They walked a short distance away from the rest of the village to speak to each other while Leine played with the children, letting them lead her around the village.

After a short conversation, Derek and the young man returned to where Leine was admiring one of the women’s elaborate beaded collars. The young man broke off from Derek and pulled a satellite phone from the folds of his
shuka
. Derek joined Leine.

“Your friend doesn’t look happy,” Leine said.

“
Ja
, well, it’s just a little misunderstanding.” Derek waved it off. “It seems that one of my investment recommendations didn’t go over very well with the elders.”

“Does he know where Wang’s camp is?”

Derek nodded. “He said he saw it last month, although Wang likes to change things up a bit. I don’t think his camp has stayed in one place longer than six weeks. My friend wasn’t sure how long the compound had been there when he ran across it.”

“Did you tell him why we’re looking?”

“Don’t worry. He hates Wang. In fact,” Derek nodded at the villagers, now going about their business, uninterested in Derek and the
mzungu
woman. “Everyone here hates him. Last year he burned down their village to get access to Maasai land for his camp. My friend is quite happy I no longer work for him.”

“And nothing happened to Wang for doing that?”

“Couldn’t prove it was him, although everyone here knows it was.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t retaliated. I always thought the Maasai were renowned as warriors. Or has that changed with the times, too?”

“Oh, believe me, they have done, but Wang’s well connected. All retaliation is met with the same or worse. Usually it’s worse.”

“A tyrant, then?”

“You could say that.”

“Then it’ll be doubly satisfying when we find his camp and rescue the men and women he kidnapped.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “I think I’m beginning to like you, Claire Sanborn.”

They paid their respects to the village chief and Derek left packages of gum and jerky with the children.

“They invited us to stay overnight, but I politely declined. Didn’t think you’d want to sleep in a mud hut on cow skins.”

“I’ve done worse,” Leine replied.

“Yeh, but have you ever slept on a layer of dried cow shit? They claim it keeps the mosquitoes away.”

“I’ll bet.” Leine shifted in her seat. Another night in the back of the Rover was going to hurt. “I don’t suppose there are any lodges between here and our destination?”

“You know me.”

“You have a plan?” Leine asked.

Derek nodded, grinning. “Yeh. I do at that.”

They bounced along the pothole-filled road for an hour, something Derek referred to as an “African massage,” and created each other’s backstory for when they infiltrated Wang’s camp. Derek would be an adventurous, wealthy businessman who’d sold his company to a software giant, and Leine would play his long-suffering girlfriend who hated hunting, which would allow her to remain in camp while everyone else went on safari. Besides, Leine doubted she’d be able to stand by and watch a group of spoiled billionaires firing automatic weapons at terrified animals from a helicopter without wanting to shoot one of the billionaires.

Derek was in the middle of recounting an amusing story about a time when he shot at what he’d thought was an impala but was actually the rear end of one of Wang’s clients, when they rounded a bend and Derek stopped talking. He stepped on the brakes, bringing the Rover to a halt, and stared out the window. Leine followed his gaze to see what had interrupted the story. The breath left her body.

“Oh, my god.”

Dozens of elephant bodies lay strewn in front of them—some large, some small, some in the middle of the road, with others off to the side and facing away, as though caught trying to escape.

“Fuck.” Derek stared at the carnage.

Leine’s throat constricted as she tried to pull in a breath. She had a hard time reconciling what she was seeing now compared to the peaceful, turf-eating families of pachyderms they’d passed earlier.

One of the larger victims had a gaping, crimson hole where its face had been sawed from its skull. Many of the others were missing the lower half of their jaws, making tusk removal easier for the poachers. Some had their feet cut off at the knees, leaving bloodied stumps.

Leine’s chest squeezed tight, stunned at the scene before her. “How—?”

Without saying a word, Derek opened his door and exited the Rover. He walked first to one, and then another of the dead, his grim expression conveying conflicting emotions of sorrow and anger. Leine climbed out of the vehicle and moved between the gigantic beasts in silence, tears pricking her eyelids.

Derek squatted near one of the larger elephants who was missing its face, and pointed to several bullet holes pockmarking its side.

“Machine guns and machetes.”

“My god. I had no idea…” Leine couldn’t finish. No stranger to blood and death, what she saw in front of her was a scene she would never forget.

“Poachers used to use poison arrows.” Derek shook his head and stood. “This is why Africa is losing her wildlife.”

Leine remained quiet, opting out of reminding him of his former trade. He cut his gaze to hers and lifted his chin.

“I know what you’re thinking. You believe I had a hand in creating this” —he glanced at the bodies lying at his feet— “this slaughter mentality. But I didn’t. I was one of the good guys. The one who did what needed to be done, but in a sustainable manner. Besides,” he continued, his tone hardening, “if I didn’t supply Wang and the others, someone else would have.”

“You can’t excuse yourself from being a part of this, Derek,” Leine said. “You were. Just like everyone who buys a trinket, or piano keys, or religious icons made of ivory is an accessory. Doesn’t matter if it’s certified or not. Poachers won’t stop until the demand disappears. It’s simple economics.” Her gaze settled on one of the smaller of the dead, its ears brutally sliced from its skull. “But it’s a vicious circle. How can the demand disappear if ivory continues to be available?”

A pained expression crossed his face. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head.

“Remember what I said before?” Leine added. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It’s what you do.”

Derek opened his eyes and squared his shoulders, turning to look at the bodies scattered along the road.

“Come on,” Leine said, her voice quiet. “I’m sure there’s someone you can notify about this, right?”

Derek nodded.

“Let’s go,” Leine said gently.

He paused for a moment longer as though to commit the scene to memory. Then he turned and walked back to the Rover. They both climbed in and Derek started the engine.

Leine glanced at the bodies lying on the ground in front of her.

Whatever it takes
.

The late afternoon
sun cast elongated shadows across the pockmarked back road, bathing the surrounding terrain in a dusky hue. Leine lifted the hair off the nape of her neck and fanned the air. The weather had cooperated and no billowing clouds marked the horizon indicating an approaching storm, although the dampness from the heat and cloying humidity made it feel like she’d been caught in a downpour.

Derek turned onto a dirt track, driving past a metal sign printed with a machine gun surrounded by a red circle and a line drawn through it, and the words “Rafiki Conservation Center” stenciled above it.

“Alma and Hattie are friends of mine,” Derek explained. “We’ll be able to stay here for the night in proper beds.”

“And just how did a poacher become friends with a pair of conservationists?” Leine asked.

Derek shrugged. “I used to bring them the babies.”

She didn’t ask him to elaborate.

They continued along the dirt driveway, through cooling shade cast by a thick canopy of trees crowding the roadside—a welcome relief from the incessant sun. Derek maneuvered the Rover around rain-soaked potholes, missing the worst of them.

At last, they broke through the trees and came upon three, one-story thatched-roof buildings.   Derek parked in the dirt lot and they followed a wooden walkway over a small stream and entered the largest of the structures.

Once inside, Leine’s eyes adjusted to the cool, dark interior, allowing her to study the space. One side of the spacious room held a desk on top of which sat a large calendar filled with handwritten notes. A long couch, low table, and two chairs created an intimate seating area on the opposite side, while the back of the structure was open to the outdoors. There didn’t appear to be anyone around.

Derek walked over to the desk and glanced at the blotter.

“Looks like it’s feeding time,” he said. “Shall we?”

Leine followed him through the open doorway at the back of the building and down a narrow, wood-chip path toward a paddock situated at the bottom of a hill. The acacia-trunk fencing surrounding the corral was at least twelve feet high and reinforced with chain link. Two women, one with gray hair pulled back in a bun, the other with dark, shoulder-length hair, stood beneath a roofed enclosure feeding a half dozen lion cubs. In the distance, near a group of trees, an elephant trumpeted.

Derek continued around to one of two gates and opened it.

“After you,” he said to Leine.

The woman with the gray hair glanced up from the cub she was feeding and shaded her eyes as Derek and Leine walked inside the paddock.

“Don’t forget to close the gate,” she said and rose to her feet, dusting off her khakis.

As they neared the group, a curious cub broke away from the dark-haired woman and bounded over to check them out. Leine bent down and held out her hand, which the cub immediately rubbed with its head. A quiet rumble emanated from its chest. She scratched the little feline behind the ears and the vibration grew louder.

“It’s best if you don’t interact with them too much. We don’t want them to become habituated to humans,” the older woman said. Leine stopped petting the small feline and straightened.

“Alma, this is Claire.”

Alma wiped both hands on her shirt, and, smiling, extended her right, which Leine shook.

“It’s good to meet you, Claire,” she said.

“Alma’s the founding member of the Center.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Leine said.

“And the ugly one over there is Hattie,” Derek said with a grin. The younger, dark-haired woman gave him a look that said she thought Derek was about as funny as a heart attack and extended her hand.

“You must be a special friend. Derek doesn’t usually bring anyone to the Center.” Hattie gave him a mischievous look.

“Colleague, Hattie. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Derek chided her.

Hattie was younger than Alma by at least three decades and had lovely brown eyes, a slender physique, and delicate features. Leine studied Derek for signs he was interested in the stunner, but all she got was a sibling vibe from both of them.

“So, what brings you here, Derek? Have any more babies for me?” Alma asked, peering past him.

Devoid of makeup, Alma’s complexion spoke of years of sunsets and the wear and tear that accompanies them. She wore faded khakis with a worn chambray shirt over a red tee with the Center’s logo in white. Her leather hiking boots were one shoelace short of total disintegration.

“No, no babies. I told you I’m done with that.”

Alma’s face lit up. “You mean you actually meant it? Hallelujah.” She clapped her hands. “When are you going to come and work with us, Mr. Hunter Man? We could really use your expertise tracking down the orphans.”

Hattie leaned toward Leine to explain. “Most of the time when the poachers kill the families, they try to catch the babies to sell them to breeders or on the black market. Every now and again they escape and have no way to fend for themselves.” Hattie nodded toward Derek. “That’s when someone like him would come in handy. He could bring them back here where we care for them until they’re old enough to be reintroduced to the wild.” She paused. “Unless they’re too young, or maimed in some way. Then we keep them here so they can live out the rest of their lives.”

“I think that’s a great idea, don’t you, Derek?” Leine smiled at the former poacher’s discomfort.

“
Ja, ja
. Whatever,” Derek said, scanning beyond the enclosure. “Where’s Zara?”

Alma’s mouth set in a firm line.

“She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Derek cocked his head. “What do you mean, gone? I thought this was her life.”

“They came more than a month ago,” Hattie interjected, giving Alma a nervous look.

Derek stilled. “Who’s they?” he asked, his gaze cutting from the older woman to Hattie.

Leine sensed Derek’s rising anger and wondered what kind of relationship he had with Zara. Alma sighed, worry lines etching her face.

“Assad and his men came by again. I ordered them off the property, but of course they refused. They made themselves at home, eating our food, drinking our beer, shooting off their wretched guns. Zara ran herself ragged trying to calm the babies.” She shook her head and held Derek’s gaze, her eyes moist. “The next morning they’d gone, along with several of our lion cubs. We haven’t heard from Zara since. I can only surmise they took her with them.”

A muscle throbbed near Derek’s clenched jaw. “Why didn’t you contact me? There are things I can do, people I can talk to.”

Alma nodded at the pair of curious cubs play fighting near her feet. “We’d just gotten these sweet babies and one of them had been sick, which took all the money we had in reserve. No money, no way to push Zara’s case to the front of the line. Besides, I contacted the police and they did a cursory investigation. The gunmen left a message two days later.” Unable to hold the tears at bay, Alma wiped at her cheeks, concentrating on the cubs.

Hattie took up the narrative, stormy emotions playing across her face. “They killed the sick cub and left a note next to its body warning us to leave Zara’s disappearance alone or more deaths would follow.” Hattie wrapped her arm around Alma’s shoulders in a protective gesture. “Zara’s a huge loss to us personally and to the Center, but we can’t risk making them angry or they’ll destroy everything we’ve worked for. Zara wouldn’t want that.”

His body clearly spring loaded, Derek paced the paddock. The lion cubs tumbled over themselves, trying to keep up with his feet.

“I know how you feel about Zara, Derek, but you need to be careful,” Alma warned. “These are not your usual militants. They have equipment like I’ve never seen in these parts. The DRC, sure. But here? Machine guns, shiny new side arms, brand-new four-wheel-drive vehicles. Even their uniforms match.”

“Why are they here?” Leine asked. “Is there some kind of rebellion going on?”

“I haven’t heard of any unrest.” Alma shook her head. “Most folks are content with the government.”

“Then it’s even more important that we find the assholes.” Derek stopped pacing. “Zara
would
want that.”