The Jungle Warrior (20 page)

“No one is to harm him,” Rokoff growled threateningly.

“What are you going to do with me?” asked Robbie, determined not to show any fear. Rokoff just smiled and said nothing.

They finally stopped at the edge of another huge lake and boarded a motor yacht. Karnath's cage was carefully lifted on board under the Russian's watchful gaze. The journey across the lake took the entire night, but Robbie was too full of adrenalin to sleep.

A quick search of his cabin revealed it was impossible to escape—the windows were too narrow to crawl through and the door was locked.

At dawn they reached a bustling port near the city of Kampala. Rokoff led Robbie to a waiting Land Rover and bundled him in along with Karnath's cage. They sped through the streets without Rokoff saying a word. The city looked much like any other and soon they arrived in the wealthy business district where skyscrapers dominated the city.

They entered an underground garage beneath a large glass tower block, which was filled with luxury cars. Robbie didn't have time to admire them as Rokoff hurried his party to a service elevator.

“What are we doing here?” Robbie asked again. He never received an answer. Rokoff ignored him and the four menacing armed men, who carried Karnath's cage between them, glared at him as they ascended.

They ushered Robbie in to a luxury penthouse apartment, tastelessly decorated throughout with animal skins and mounted heads. Ataro Okeke greeted Rokoff with open arms, kissing him on both cheeks. The Russian was clearly uncomfortable but tolerated the embrace. Okeke crouched to look at Karnath.

The little gorilla was silent, watery brown eyes staring fearfully back at the man. Everything about the room looked and smelled wrong to the ape.

“Magnificent!” breathed Okeke. “He's truly magnificent! Nikolas, you have excelled yourself. In fact, since the order was placed I have had several other interested buyers contacting me with better prices. Now we're going to have an auction for this beauty!”

Rokoff smiled. That was typical Okeke, playing one bidder against another. He wasn't the most reliable person to do business with.

Okeke turned to Robbie and studied him carefully. “And what have we here? Does it have a name?”

“Robert.”

“Robert . . .?” Okeke prompted.

“Just Robert.”

Rokoff remained silent, but smirked as if humored by Robbie's defiance. Okeke sneered and slowly circled him. “How mysterious. An American out in the wild, defending a wild gorilla with his own life. How did that happen, Robert?”

Robbie thought of several excuses he could use, but Rokoff cut him off before he could speak.

“He's part of an illegal logging team in the Congo. I used them to get close to this.” He pointed at Karnath. Robbie noticed that he didn't mention Tarzan.

“Illegal logging, eh?” said Okeke to Robbie. “What would your embassy think of that if I turned you over?”

“I think they would be more interested in the fact that you're hunting endangered species,” Robbie replied sharply.

Okeke stopped in his tracks and Rokoff gave a low snigger.

“You forget your place. Telling your embassy you are alive would be a mercy compared with killing you and dumping your body out in the savannah. Trust me, no one will find you there. They never do.”

Robbie felt a chill run through him. Okeke's voice never rose in pitch, but the malice in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I've got a feeling he's going to be quite useful yet,” said Rokoff as he moved to the window and gazed across the city.

“How so?” said Okeke, never taking his eyes from Robbie.

“Because there's a private investigator looking for him. There's a bounty on his head.”

Okeke's eyes widened. “How much?”

Rokoff ignored the question and gazed at Robbie, who was startled by the comment. “You see, a good hunter knows his prey. I know all about you, Mr. Canler.” Robbie reacted in surprise when he heard his name. “I know what you did. What you're running from. I even left a little trail for the investigator to follow.”

Robbie glowered. He felt nothing but hatred for Rokoff. He was pretty sure that he could overpower Okeke; the man looked like he'd enjoyed one too many luxuries in his life. But there was nothing he could use as a weapon against the Russian. In fact, he didn't think he could beat him no matter what the circumstances were.

“He'll be worth hanging on to for a while,” said Rokoff with a smile.

Robbie was unable to remain silent any longer. The Russian's arrogance needed putting in its place. “You know that won't be for long. You know who's coming. He won't stop until we are both free.” He nodded to Karnath. “And he has no mercy.”

Okeke looked between them both, clearly confused. “Who?”

Robbie ignored him. His gaze remained on Rokoff. “There is no way of stopping him. You can't reason with him or bargain with him. He will find you.”

To Robbie's surprise, Rokoff started to grin and his eyes narrowed with delight. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal disk. He held it up for Robbie to see. It was the GPS tracker Robbie had slipped in there.

“I am counting on it, Mr. Canler. I am counting on it.”

•••

The twitching vein in Tarzan's neck was the first sign of life Jane saw as she knelt by his side. At first she thought it was a trick of the shadows. Darkness had rapidly descended and there was now a full red moon. It provided some light across the savannah and her flashlight lit up the area immediately around her. A herd of zebra was still grazing close by and their gentle grunts and squeals gave her some reassurance.

Jane pressed her finger against Tarzan's neck and found his pulse. It felt strong. She swatted flies away as they landed on his chest, knowing they could carry disease. She thought about trying to find water, but had no idea where to look and she didn't think leaving a wounded Tarzan near the cheetahs was wise. She didn't know how far the bond of respect between Tarzan and the wild animals went.

Eventually, Tarzan's eyes flicked open. Under the circumstances, most people would clutch their heads and try to find the strength to stand, but Tarzan stood straight up. When he wobbled slightly, Jane caught his arm until he found his balance.

A pair of spotted hyenas lay in the grass close by, the light reflecting in their eyes. They had been judging Tarzan as a potential meal, but now he growled at them and they fled, gibbering, to join others of their clan feasting on the crushed bodies of the wildebeests run over by the truck.

“Rokoff?” said Tarzan, his mouth almost too dry to get the words out.

“Gone,” said Jane. “He took Karnath and Robbie with him.”

Tarzan kicked a fragment of the broken truck and stared at the horizon.

“But we still have this.” She pulled the tracker from her backpack. The stationary blip flashed rhythmically.

Tarzan sucked air through his teeth in pain. He usually bore pain in stoic silence, so this reaction alarmed Jane. Pointing to his wounds, she said, “You need those treated.”

Jane shone the light across his chest and Tarzan inspected the cuts. Only the machete wound across his chest gave him pause for thought. He ripped a strip of canvas from the truck and then examined the twisted engine, pointing to where he wanted Jane to shine her light. Tarzan covered the canvas with oil leaking from the crankcase and wrapped it around his chest to form a basic bandage.

“No
busso
,” he explained. Jane frowned and Tarzan pointed to the flies that circled her flashlight beam. “
Busso
.”

Jane understood: The oil would keep them away.

“If we rest for a bit and leave before dawn we can beat the heat of the day,” Jane began.

Tarzan shook his head. “No rest. Go now.”

“I don't think you're in a fit state to walk anywhere.”

“No walk.”

Jane shone her flashlight across the herd of zebra. The light sent murmurs of unrest through it.

“You want to ride another
pacco
?” she said, using Tarzan's word for zebra.

“No
pacco
. Need to travel fast.” He nudged her flashlight beam out over the herd and she let out a confused
huh
when she saw his unlikely choice of transport.

The flock of ostriches looked too gawky as they sat close to a hardy shrub, unaware of their new role in Tarzan and Jane's next mission.

•••

An hour before the sun crested the horizon, the sky was filled with the eerie shadowless pre-dawn light. Waves lapped the shore of the huge lake that stretched before Tarzan and Jane. They dismounted the ostriches that had carried them through the night at speed, passing nocturnal predators such as a pride of hunting lions, navigating difficult terrain where a four-legged steed would have stumbled. The birds had been tireless and surprisingly easy to control. If it hadn't been for the dire circumstances, Jane would have found the journey quite enjoyable.

Now the lake appeared to be their final hurdle in reaching Karnath and Robbie. After some scouting around, they discovered a small locked hut with several boats moored on a jetty. A sign read: R
UBONDO
I
SLAND
N
ATIONAL
P
ARK
, L
AKE
V
ICTORIA
.

Jane recalled a little of what she knew about the lake from her lessons with Esmée back at the camp. It was one of the largest tropical lakes in the world and sat between Tanzania and Uganda. She wished she'd paid more attention to Esmée. Her lessons had seemed trivial and dull at the time, but now that knowledge would be invaluable.

Since the only way to Karnath was across the lake, after checking that no one was around, they took one of the boats. Jane had no trouble starting the outboard motor and they headed across the calm water.

The journey was long and uncomfortable. Farther out, the water became choppy and soon the small boat was being tossed on waves more likely to be found at sea than on a lake. It was clear they had the wrong boat for the voyage but they had no choice other than to press on.

Jane tried to ignore her seasickness. The cool wind and water spray made her feel a little better as she gripped the boat's wheel to keep it on course. After a couple of hours her arms were numb and she felt so exhausted that she had to hand steering duties over to Tarzan.

Hours passed as the storm jostled the boat—several times it keeled far over in the water and Jane was convinced they would flounder, but Tarzan stayed firm at the wheel and kept their course.

After several restless hours the weather calmed and they saw land, which Jane initially mistook for the shore. A chart she found on the boat revealed it to be the island of Kalanga. They navigated around Kalanga and it was almost dark before they saw the lights of the lake's northern shore ahead.

They docked in the small city of Entebbe. Even at night, Jane could see it was a more civilized place than Sango. People were dressed in suits or work clothes and gangs of youths wore grubby sneakers. Tarzan looked completely out of place there and it made her even more anxious.

Jane noticed several trucks loading cargo from a ship that had docked. “We need to hitch a ride into the city,” she said and nodded to a truck. “That might take us there.”

The vehicle she pointed to was adorned with faded lettering on the door: “Kampala Wholesale.” Rokoff had mentioned the city of Kampala before—it was their only lead. The GPS marker was close and hadn't moved so she suspected Kampala wasn't too far off.

She guided Tarzan onto the open flatbed of the truck just as the driver started his engine. They hid between sacks of grain as the vehicle pulled onto smooth roads. Signs for the airport passed them by, and another one indicated Kampala was only twenty miles away. A quick check on the GPS confirmed that they were heading in the right direction.

As they got closer to their destination their surroundings increasingly became man-made. An endless sprawl of tin shacks came into view, stretching into the darkness. Laundry hung from lines and stray dogs picked through the rubbish in the street.

“Is this the furthest you've been into a city?” whispered Jane.

Tarzan nodded. “Furthest Tarzan been from home.”

The shantytown soon gave way to more sturdy cream and orange brick buildings, some stretching ten stories high. The concrete jungle was becoming denser by the minute, and when the truck pulled up at a large warehouse the stowaways took the opportunity to slip off the truck. Keeping out of sight, they walked off down one of the main streets.

The solid pavement felt uncomfortable under Tarzan's bare feet and he found the maze of brick and concrete claustrophobic. Power and phone lines hung overhead. Litter blew in the gentle breeze and every shop was heavily shuttered. Signs for mobile phones, pizza restaurants, clothing, and alcohol were everywhere they looked. Jane thought they could have easily stepped into any downtrodden street in America. She was thankful they had arrived late when the streets were deserted and they were less likely to draw attention to themselves.

At the end of the street the road climbed gently up toward a cluster of skyscrapers marking the city center. The GPS was leading them there. Shop signs around them started to change, most bearing the name “Nakasero Hill,” which Jane guessed must be the name of the suburb.

She adjusted the scale of the GPS regularly. It was beginning to look like Rokoff was located in one of the huge tower blocks ahead. One well-lit stone building looked so luxurious and futuristic, with its sloping walls and saucer-shaped roof, that for a second she forgot they were in Africa. The name Hilton was highlighted at the top of the hotel and Jane suddenly felt pangs of homesickness with the thoughts of warm showers, comfortable beds, and room service . . .

Her daydreaming was cut short by a wolf whistle. Jane snapped back to reality. A gang of teenagers appeared from the shadows, barring her path ahead. She glanced around and saw more had appeared behind her to block her escape. Parked cars to the left hemmed her in. More alarming, there was no sign of Tarzan. Was the big city too much for him? Where had he gone to?