PRIMAL Renegade (A PRIMAL Action Thriller Book 8) (The PRIMAL Series) (2 page)

***

MOMBASA, KENYA

Six thousand miles away in a rusted warehouse a battered phone rang. David ‘Mamba’ Mboya scowled from the stack of crates he was perched on. The leader of the poaching gang drank from a bottle of beer and let the phone ring a half-dozen more times before it finally got the better of him. He tossed the bottle and it shattered against the sheet iron wall. “Kogo, answer the damn phone!”

A moment later Julias Kogo appeared; lighter-skinned, slight of build, and with a shaved head. Kogo was Mamba's right hand man and errand boy. “Yes, Mamba.” He used the former Ugandan paratrooper’s nickname, a reference to the African snake renowned for its ferocity and speed. Grabbing the phone off the cradle he pressed it to his ear and listened before turning to his boss. “It's Zhou, says he has another job for us.”

Mamba climbed off the crates, uncoiling his wiry frame to its full six-foot-five. Without a hint of fat, the ebony-skinned Ugandan was an imposing sight. His hair was clipped short, a testament to his time in the military. He wore a faded check shirt left unbuttoned, revealing a lean torso covered in scars. “I don't want to talk to that piece of shit. He ripped us off on the last shipment of tusks. Tell him I'm going to find a new buyer for this batch.”

Kogo relayed the response to the Chinese gangster on the other end of the line. “He says he has something big this time.”

“He always does.” Mamba opened the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of beer. He twisted the lid off using the crook of his bicep and downed half of it. “Give me the phone.” Grabbing the handset he raised it to his ear. “Zhou, you crooked Chinese hyena, do you have the money you owe me?”

“I paid you the agreed amount.”

“Yes, but then you doubled the price you sold it for.”

“That's not true.”

“I saw it on the internet, Zhou. You might think we're all monkeys you yellow bastard but we’re smarter than that.”

The gangster paused. “I will make it up to you on this next consignment.”

“Tell me more.”

“I have a buyer for a black rhino horn.”

“That's great, Zhou, but I don't have a fucking death wish.”

“You can name the price.”

He took a swig from the beer.

“I'm talking big numbers, Mamba, two, three hundred thousand.”

He smacked his lips. “Make it five.” He could hear Zhou hissing through his teeth. “The black rhinos are protected by armed rangers. Not the usual deadbeats, I’m talking ex-military and police. I’ll need men who are willing to take the risk and I'm going to have to find a rhino with a big enough horn. None of that comes cheap.”

“Do you know North Luangwa National Park?”

“Do you know The Great Wall of China? Of course I know it, you idiot, it’s in Zambia.”

“There’s a black rhino there.”

“There are also rangers. Your number just became six hundred.”

“Fine, but I am not paying you extra money for the elephant horns.”

“They're called tusks and I’ve spent two weeks assembling the weight you ordered. I will include the black rhino horn for a total of eight hundred thousand, American dollars.”

He could hear Zhou typing on the other end. “I have a ship due in at Mombasa on Friday. Can you have the entire shipment ready by then?”

Mamba drained the last of his beer. “Transfer a hundred grand into my account now and we’ll go to work.”

“You've never needed money up front before.”

Mamba lobbed the bottle at the back of the warehouse where it shattered. “You haven't asked for a black rhino horn before, Zhou. Make it happen.” He passed the phone back to Kogo who returned it to the cradle. “We’re going to need at least five men.”

“Any preference?”

“For this job, only the best, and I want one who knows Luangwa.”

“OK, boss.”

Mamba pulled another beer from the refrigerator. “And Kogo, make sure they're killers.”

CHAPTER 1

NORTH LUANGWA NATIONAL PARK, ZAMBIA

Aden Bishop stood on the verandah of the raised bungalow he shared with Saneh, staring out at the rolling savannah. He ate from a bowl of oatmeal as he watched a family of warthogs foraging in the dry grass. PRIMAL seemed like a distant memory as he watched the sow and her two piglets digging for roots. There was something about Africa that soothed the soul. It was a harsh land with an underlying beauty that took your breath away.

“Good morning, handsome,” Saneh purred from behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he could feel the slight bulge of her belly against his back. Her pregnancy was beginning to show.

Bishop smiled as he spooned more oatmeal into his mouth. In a couple more months they would head to Sydney, Australia, to have the baby in his hometown. Then, after a few weeks, it would be back to their newly renovated home in Spain. That reminded him, he needed to check in with the builder.

Saneh rested her chin on his shoulder and spotted the hogs. “They're so cute.”

“They have a certain repugnant appeal.”

“You’ve got something in common.” She laughed. “Hey, we got an update from Vance.”

“Yeah, and how is the team doing?”

“Remarkably busy considering we’re supposed to have stood down. Mitch is in Israel building spare parts for Ice, Mirza is working with Tariq delivering humanitarian aid, and the headquarters staff are still working the intel piece from Abu Dhabi. They’re calling the new safe house the Sandpit.”

“I knew they wouldn't be able to stay away from work. What games are they playing in their new play pen?”

“The usual, keeping an eye on things. Making sure the
CIA
isn't still trying to find PRIMAL.” She kissed his neck. “Oh, and they're running a sweepstake.”

“Yeah, and what are the odds?”

“Twenty to one.”

“Let me guess, they’re all betting we're going to have a girl.”

“How did you know that?” She feigned surprise.

He chuckled. “Because, they all think I deserve a daughter.”

“Come on, it wouldn't be so bad, would it? I mean, I've wrapped you around my little finger. Imagine what it would be like with two of us.”

He shook his head. “That’s not something I want to contemplate.”

“So, what have you got planned for today?”

“I'm going to help Dom train the new guys in apprehension techniques.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Hardly, but it's necessary.”

“Christina is heading out this afternoon to take photos of one of the black rhinos.”

“The one with the calf?” He took another mouthful of his breakfast.

“Yes, I want to go with her. Two of the rangers will accompany us, it will be perfectly safe.”

Bishop put down his bowl and turned to face her. “I'm allowed to be a little protective of the woman I love and our unborn child.”

She smiled. “Of course you are. But, nothing’s going to happen. You know there hasn't been a poaching incident here in years.”

“It's not the poachers I'm worried about. Those black rhinos are grumpy mothers.”

“Oh please, Kitana is not aggressive at all. Plus, I won't leave the truck.”

“I don't know why you're asking when you've already made up your mind. I'll see you later today. I’ve got to run, Dom’s waiting for me.” He kissed her on the forehead and entered the bungalow. As he dropped his bowl into the sink his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was Kruger, the South African PRIMAL operative. “Hey, brother, what's up?”

“I'm fucking bored,
ja
. What are you doing?”

Bishop laughed as he left the bungalow and walked across a dusty clearing to the training hall. “I'm still up at Luangwa. I thought you were going to drop in, plenty of work here to keep you busy. Where are you?”

“I'm in Zimbabwe, just north of Harare. Been spending some time with an old Recce mate. He's a family man now so he has to go to work and all that.”

“You're not far away. Come on up, we're at the ranger school. I'll flick you the coordinates.”

“Maybe tomorrow,
ja
.”

Bishop could hear a dog barking in the background.

“Hey, I've got to go but I'll give you a call before I head up, OK?”

“Sounds good, mate.”

Bishop ended the call as he entered the training room. Dom was standing in front of a bench lined with flexicuffs and lengths of rope.

“You running a detention lesson or an S and M workshop?”

Dom chuckled. “Morning, Aden, you ready to get started?”

“Yeah, how long do you have the lesson scheduled for?”

“An hour. What’s up? You got a hot date with Saneh, bro?”

“No, I'm keen to work through the bugs in the drone and get it up again tonight.” Bishop spotted the first of the rangers filing into the shed for the lesson.

“I've got nothing else planned for the day. We can mess about with the drones all afternoon.” He grinned. “Use it to keep an eye on the girls.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

***

Mamba pulled a cold beer from the cooler in the back of his four-wheel drive and twisted the lid off on his bicep. It was midday and the sun beat down relentlessly on the Zambian bush. “Kogo, where the fuck is your boy, hey?” He glared at his second-in-command who was sitting in the shade of a tree with the other three members of the hunting party. They had waited for twenty minutes for the guide Kogo had arranged.

Less the absent guide, they were all poachers that Mamba trusted. The two black Ugandans were brothers recruited from his old Army unit. Reconnaissance specialists, they were the finest trackers in the business. The older white Zimbabwean, Colin, was a professional poacher who shot his first elephant when his country was still called Rhodesia. He was their shooter. Mamba had witnessed the gray-haired hunter drop a bull with a single bullet from over five hundred yards.

“He'll be here,” Kogo said peering down the track.

Mamba took a swig from the beer. “He better.”

The five men were armed with assault rifles and carried an assortment of backpacks. They wore a mixture of faded camouflage pants, khakis, and long-sleeved bush shirts. All except Mamba, who wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves torn off under a tan South African-style assault vest. The handle of a machete protruded from a scabbard secured to the back pouch between his broad shoulder blades.

The splutter of a motorcycle caught the poaching boss’s attention and he turned to spot a scooter struggling along the sandy track. As it pulled up alongside them he scowled. Kogo's guide was a scrawny kid who didn’t look a day over sixteen. “What the fuck is this?”

The barrel of the
AK-47
slung over the teenager’s bony shoulder stuck up above his head like a radio antenna.

“He was a ranger here,” said Kogo as the youth parked his battered scooter under a bush by the side of the road.

“Why isn't he anymore?”

“Because he stole from his comrades.”

“He's a fucking thief?”

Kogo shrugged. “Aren't we all?”

The youth eyed the five men suspiciously as he unslung his AK and held it across his body. “Who is Kogo?”

“That's me.”

He held out his hand. “I want my money.”

Mamba stepped forward, towering over the boy. “You'll have your money when I have my horn.”

The youth made to reply but Mamba continued, “Now, are you going to lead us to the animal or are you wasting my time?”

The kid swallowed but looked up defiantly. “We have to leave the car here. We walk east to the Mwaleshi river. That is where the rhino will be. It is a hard walk but if we go now we will be there by nighttime.”

“Why can't we drive in, eh?” asked Colin. “There's probably plenty of tracks through the park.”

“No, the rangers patrol the tracks and there are tour operators. Between here and the river it is bush, no one goes there much. We will not be seen.”

“Are there many camps near where the rhino is?” asked Mamba.

The former ranger nodded.

Mamba turned to Colin. “Needs to be a silent kill.”

“I’ll take the dart gun. More than enough cyanide to drop a big female. We'll take off her horn with machetes.” He made a chopping gesture with his hand. “Real sharp, real quiet, then we get the fuck out of there.”

Mamba nodded. “We're gone by the time they find the carcass.” He raised his voice. “OK, get your gear ready. We're leaving in five.” He turned to the teenager. “You'd better lead us to the rhino, boy.” He finished his beer and tossed it into the bushes. “Because if we don't find her I'm going to hang you from a boab and skin you like an antelope.” He laughed as he took a folding-stock AK assault rifle out of the four-wheel drive and cocked it.

***

Saneh found the men in the clearing behind the training hall. They had set up a table in the shade of a tree and were working on the delta-winged electric drone. There were laptops, a toolbox, and components strewn across the bench. “Have you boys eaten any dinner?” she asked as she approached.

“Huh?” Bishop glanced up from where he was inspecting the aircraft. “Yeah, we grabbed some sandwiches from the kitchen.”

“Hi Saneh.” Dom shot her a smile. “You and Chris off soon?”

“In a few minutes. How’s the drone going?”

“Ask Aden, this stuff's all alien to me.”

Saneh laughed. “I can see you're very busy. OK, boys, we'll see you when we get back.” She gestured to the drone. “Or, if you ever get that thing working again, you'll see us out there.”

“OK, babe, have fun.”

Saneh shook her head as she walked back. “Boys and their toys.” As she entered the lecture room she spotted Christina crouched over a backpack. “You all good?”

The photographer gave a smile. “Yep, the guys are already loaded and out the front.” She zipped up the bag and hefted it over her shoulders. Loaded with camera gear, it was almost larger than her petite frame. “Let’s go.”

One of the stripped-down Land Cruisers was parked in front of the building with two rangers in the front seats. They greeted Saneh and Christina with broad smiles as the women climbed into the back.

“All right, boys, do we know where Kitana is?” asked Christina as she buckled in.

“One of the patrols spotted her up north,” said Francis, the driver. “Near the Mwaleshi falls.”

“Well, let's head up there and have a look. We've got about thirty minutes till sunset so we need to find her quickly.” Christina unzipped her backpack and withdrew a camera with a telephoto lens. She slung it around her neck and cradled the body in her lap.

Francis started the engine with a clatter. “We’ll find her. Kitana doesn't like to walk far with the baby.”

“Who could blame her?” Saneh chuckled.

“Do rhinos get morning sickness?” asked Christina as they left the camp.

“I hope not, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.”

They continued their banter as the Land Cruiser negotiated a sandy track through the bush. It followed the Mwaleshi River for five miles before they turned off and skidded down a steep bank. Francis slowed as they negotiated a rocky riverbed pock-marked with bath-sized pools of slimy green water.

“Is it this low all year round?” asked Saneh as they splashed through a stagnant pond.

“No, when the wet comes the river becomes a torrent. It's only really low during the dry months. Look, it's deeper over there,” Christina said as she raised her camera. She aimed it at a group of hippos half-submerged in a lagoon on the opposite side of the river.

Saneh smiled as one of the massive beasts yawned opening its mouth to reveal a lethal array of yellow teeth. Behind them, on the bank, a herd of impala were making their way down to the river to drink.

Christina snapped a few shots. “They're smart, they know if there are hippos there won't be any crocodiles.”

Francis stopped and waited for Christina to finish taking photos before continuing. “If we don't hurry, Miss Munoz, you will miss the light.”

Christina laughed. “You're all over it, aren't you, Francis.”

The two rangers in the front chatted in their native language as they drove through a shallow rivulet and back up the sandy bank. They continued to follow the river as it wound its way toward the falls.

“This is the best time to be out,” said Christina as she snapped a photo of a giraffe and her calf drinking. The mother eyed them warily as they drove slowly past. “So many mothers out with their babies.” She shot Saneh a smile. “That’ll be you soon.”

“I might avoid hippo and crocodile-infested waters. Aden wasn’t exactly happy with me being out tonight.” She glanced at the
pump-action shotguns
mounted between the front seats. Even though there had not been a poaching incident in nearly three years Dom insisted every patrol was armed.