Bodyguard: Ambush (Book 3) (13 page)

Buju held up his hand and the safari convoy
came to a halt. Gunner killed the engine. Behind, the other five drivers did the same
and the rumbling of motors ceased, to be replaced by a chorus of birdsong, buzzing
insects and the occasional braying of zebra. The soundtrack of Africa. Then in the
distance they heard a haunting
whoop-whoop
.

‘Hyenas,’ Gunner explained under
his breath. ‘A long way off, probably in those hills.’ He indicated a far
ridge, crowned by the rising sun.

‘So why have we stopped?’ asked
Henri.

Gunner put a finger to his lips to silence
him as Buju pointed to a clump of thorn bushes some twenty metres ahead. Amber craned
her neck to see what the tracker had spotted, her camera at the ready.

‘What is it?’ whispered Henri,
kneeling up in his seat.

Amber shook her head and shrugged. Then out
from behind the thicket emerged a creature as grey as slate with an immense barrel body
and stumpy legs, its sloping neck
and
low-slung head finishing in a large, pointed double horn. Like a creature straight out
of
Jurassic Park
, the rhino appeared truly prehistoric. It tramped into the
middle of the dirt track and stopped, suddenly sensing them.

Connor, Amber and Henri stared in awestruck
silence.

Gunner kept his voice to barely above a
whisper. ‘You’re very fortunate to see a black rhino in the wild. Their
species have been driven to the point of extinction. Less than five thousand left in the
whole of Africa.’

The rhino stood stock-still, only its ears
twitching, then it swung its head towards them, snorting at the air.

‘Rhinos have poor eyesight but an
excellent sense of smell and hearing,’ continued Gunner as Amber began shooting
away with her camera. He pointed to a small red-billed bird on the animal’s back.
‘That’s an oxpecker. It was thought they removed ticks and insects for the
benefit of the rhino, as well as providing an early warning system by hissing and
screaming if a predator approached. But more recent research suggests these are actually
bloodthirsty bodyguards.’

Amber looked back at Connor and raised an
eyebrow.

‘Rather than eat the ticks, the
oxpeckers have been seen removing scabs and opening fresh wounds to feed on the
rhino’s blood,’ explained Gunner. ‘So, while in part a mutually
beneficial relationship, the oxpecker is also a parasite.’

Connor hoped Amber didn’t consider him
a parasite. He’d been careful to keep his distance and focus on Henri when
they’d been prepping for the dawn safari. And, since
the spider episode the previous night, he’d noticed
she had become more open towards him.

They watched as the little bird pecked with
its red beak at the rhino’s rump. The rhino twitched and turned slowly, until its
back was to them. Then it excreted several huge dollops of dung that plopped on to the
ground in a steaming heap.

‘Gross!’ exclaimed Henri.

‘Well, that’s certainly put me
off my breakfast,’ agreed Connor.

Gunner grinned. ‘An adult rhino can
produce as much as
fifty
pounds of dung in a day. Did you know each
rhino’s stool smell is unique and identifies its owner? They often use communal
dung deposits, known as middens, to serve as local message boards. Each individual dung
tells other rhinos who’s passed through, how old they are and whether a female is
on heat or not. Think of it like a post on one of your social networks.’

‘That’s a pleasant image!’
said Amber, laughing.

Having done its business, the rhino trotted
off and disappeared into the thicket.

‘What a spectacular start to the
safari!’ declared Gunner, switching on the Land Rover’s engine. ‘Your
first close encounter with one of the Big Five and it’s only six a.m.’

‘What are the other four?’ asked
Amber.

‘Elephant, lion, buffalo and leopard.
Can’t guarantee we’ll spot a leopard, though. They’re pretty
elusive.’

Henri frowned. ‘Why isn’t a
hippo one of the Big Five? Surely it’s larger than a leopard?’

Gunner shook his
head. ‘It isn’t about size. The “Big Five” was the term used by
white hunters for the five species considered the most dangerous to hunt. Although
you’re technically right, a hippo should be on that list. Hippos kill more people
than any other animal in Africa.’

‘Really? What about mosquitoes?’
said Amber.

‘Yeah, I’ll give you that.
They’re responsible for millions of deaths through the spread of malaria. But
mosquitoes aren’t directly attacking you, unlike hippos who are fiercely
territorial. I can assure you, you
don’t
want to get between a hippo and
water. But if you really want to be picky, then there’s one beast in Africa
that’s killed more than all the mosquitoes, hippos, elephants, crocs and lions
combined.’

‘Which one?’ asked Connor,
intrigued.

‘The most deadly species on
Earth,’ said Gunner, fixing him with a grave look. ‘Man.’

A single fan whirred like an oversized
mosquito in the corner of the makeshift office, no more than a lopsided whitewashed
brick hut with a corrugated tin roof, situated on the edge of a Rwandan border town. The
fan’s feeble breeze was barely enough to stir the stifling air as the diamond
merchant, a thin-faced man with half-moon spectacles and a shirt two sizes too big,
removed the stone from its bag. He deposited it under the microscope with the infinite
care of a parent holding a baby for the first time. Then, setting aside his glasses, he
peered through the eyepiece.

‘A pink, very rare … and
desirable,’ he said, adjusting the focus and magnification. ‘Clarity is
almost flawless, at least internally.’

The merchant pulled back and blinked, as if
he couldn’t believe his eyes at the quality. Retrieving his spectacles, he glanced
up at the client sitting opposite him. The white man hadn’t moved a muscle since
taking his seat. Yet his posture suggested he was ready to strike like a panther at the
slightest provocation.

‘Where did
you get this?’ asked the merchant breathlessly.

‘I’m not paying you to
question,’ said Mr Grey. ‘I’m paying you to appraise.’

‘Of course,’ replied the
merchant, immediately returning to his work. No stranger to violence, the merchant
recognized the implied threat in the man’s tone and had no intention of
antagonizing him further. With due diligence, he transferred the stone from the
microscope on to a set of digital scales. The merchant tried not to show any surprise at
the reading, but it was impossible to hide the shocked dilation of his pupils.

‘A little over thirty carats, in its
rough state,’ announced the merchant, somehow managing to keep his voice even.

‘Estimated value?’

The merchant licked his lips as he
considered the rare diamond before him. ‘Twenty million dollars, if not
more.’

Mr Grey nodded, picked up the stone and laid
out ten hundred-dollar bills on the table. ‘For your appraisal. Plus another ten
for keeping your tongue.’ He added more notes to the pile. ‘Or else
I’ll return to
take
your tongue.’

‘Discretion is my religion,’
assured the diamond merchant, pocketing the money. As his client reached the doorway, he
cleared his throat. ‘You’ll have trouble getting that stone out of Africa
without the correct certificates. I could h–’

‘That’s my concern, not
yours,’ said Mr Grey, stepping out into the hot midday sun.

He crossed the potholed road to his battered
Land
Rover. Once aboard, he pulled a phone
from his pocket and dialled. A voice answered, slightly distorted by the encrypted line.
‘Status?’

‘The stone is legit. Twenty million,
minimum.’

‘A satisfactory investment
then,’ said the voice. But Mr Grey couldn’t tell whether the person on the
end of the line was pleased or disappointed by the figure. ‘Have you secured means
of export?’

‘Yes, I’m meeting the contact in
six days for transport to Switzerland where it will be KP-certified.’

‘Fine work, Mr Grey. Everything else
on schedule?’

‘Ahead, by all accounts. The coup
appears imminent. The general’s hungry for war. He’s contacted me for more
weapons.’

‘That’s easily enough arranged.
But can we trust him to stand by our agreement?’

‘He knows the score if he
doesn’t,’ stated Mr Grey. ‘But the general is a loose cannon, no
ethics and no boundaries.’

‘Sounds the ideal candidate to ignite
chaos,’ replied the voice. ‘What’s the status of the
opposition?’

‘Unprepared, according to my source.
But its army is well-enough equipped. I would anticipate heavy losses on both
sides.’

When the voice replied, the pleasure was
unmistakable this time. ‘A fight between grasshoppers is always a joy to the
crow.’

‘
Safari
is Swahili for
journey
,’ explained Gunner, grabbing a small backpack from the rear
of the Land Rover. ‘And the only way to truly experience Africa is on
foot.’

It was now afternoon and the ranger had
offered to take them on a walking safari. Enticed at the prospect of such a unique
opportunity, Laurent and Cerise had decided to join them, the president and his
entourage having returned to the lodge.

Connor shouldered his Go-bag, containing his
water bottle, insect repellent, the first-aid kit and other critical supplies. In the
side pockets of his cargo trousers, he stowed his smartphone and Lifestraw and, on his
hip, his father’s knife. Although they were being guided by an experienced ranger
and tracker, Connor was taking no chances. In the SAS survival manual, he’d read
always to expect the unexpected
– a motto equally relevant to a
bodyguard’s philosophy. And, without the back-up of the presidential guard, he
wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.

Henri was protesting loudly as his mother
smothered him in factor-fifty sunscreen. Amber, in shorts and a T-shirt,
her hair tied back by a bandana, rolled her
eyes at her younger brother’s whinging. After applying some lip balm, she picked
up her camera and water bottle, keen to get moving. Connor was just putting on his
sunglasses and baseball cap when the ambassador approached.

‘How’s the trip so far?’
he asked.

‘All going very smoothly,’
replied Connor. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary to report.’

‘It seems my fears may have been
unfounded,’ admitted Laurent, admiring the glorious expanse of open savannah.
‘Still, it’s good for Amber to have someone around her own age. She’s
been a little down recently. Perhaps you can cheer her up? Keep her occupied while
I’m involved in diplomatic discussions.’

He gave Connor a pointed look and Connor
recalled the awkward conversation between Amber and Minister Feruzi at the Boma
dinner.

‘I’ll do my best,’ said
Connor, sensing the ambassador wasn’t aware of his daughter’s recent
break-up.

Once everyone was ready, Gunner drew the
group together. ‘A few basic rules for this safari. Follow my instructions at all
times, without delay or debate. Stick together and walk in single file. No talking,
unless we’re gathered to discuss something of interest. And if we do happen to
confront any dangerous game, whatever you do,
don’t
run. You’ll
trigger the hunting instinct and become prey. Remember, you’re not in a zoo. This
is Africa.’

‘Are you sure we’ll be
safe?’ asked Cerise, putting a protective arm round her son.

‘Haven’t lost anyone yet,’ replied Gunner. ‘Though you are our
first guests!’

He smiled to show this was a joke, then
thumbed in the direction of a young park ranger, a rifle slung over his shoulder.
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Barbier, Alfred’s here to protect us.’

Gunner nodded at Buju to lead the way, and
Laurent, Cerise, Amber and Henri followed in single file, with Connor and Alfred taking
up the rear. They tramped through the long grass in silence. Although Connor’s
baseball cap shielded him from the blazing sun, the ground itself radiated heat like a
mirror and, within minutes of the trek, he was drenched in sweat.