CHAPTER 20

REECE WAS WALKING IN downtown Coronado when he saw Lauren and Lucy shopping on the opposite side of the street. Lauren was combing the sidewalk sale rack of a boutique for bargains and Lucy stood next to her, holding on to the strap of her purse. Turning, she saw Reece across the street, her face lighting up with joy. He waved and began to make his way between two parked cars to cross the street. Lucy let go of Lauren’s purse and began to run in his direction. Then everything went into slow motion. Reece could see the taxi and knew that the driver wouldn’t see Lucy until it was too late. Lucy’s path and speed put them on a perfect collision course. Reece yelled at the top of his lungs for her to stop but no one could hear him: not Lucy, not Lauren, not the cabdriver. Lucy kept coming, as did the taxi. Reece began to run toward her but his legs felt like they were mired in concrete; he’d never get there in time. He looked at the taxi driver and recognized the face of a man he’d last seen before putting two bullets into his brain on the streets of LA. It can’t be. When he turned his head, Lucy’s smile was the last thing he saw as the cab accelerated to make impact.

Soaked in sweat, Reece shot up in bed and looked at his strange surroundings.

A tiny voice came through the thatched wall to his right. “Morning, morning, sir. ”

“Um, yep, I’m up. . . ” was all Reece could muster in response, remembering that he was thousands of miles from Coronado and that Lauren and Lucy were gone forever.

The hangover hit him like a sledgehammer. There was no tumor to blame for this one, just too many beers, a lot of red wine, and more than a few whiskeys. He flung the blanket off his legs and swung his legs over to the floor. Struggling to find his balance, he stumbled into the bathroom. The figure that gazed back at him from the bathroom mirror looked like a homeless guy selling drugs at a music festival.

He wasn’t sure about drinking the water, so he threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt along with some flip-flops and staggered toward the dining area in search of coffee. Even in his current state, he was struck by the beauty of the African sunrise. The orange ball emerging over the treetops bathed the entire scene in a warm glow. The green forest was broken by the deep, sandy riverbed below, where he could see Cape buffalo and what looked like kudu drinking. He assumed correctly that giant crocodiles were somewhere in the water below, waiting patiently for one of the mammals to venture too close.

“How’s it? ”

Reece turned to see Louie, walking diagonally toward the common area.

“Hope Rich didn’t bore you with too many of his stories from the good old days? ” Louie smiled.

“No, no, it was great. Just wish I’d drank less. ”

“Ah, join the club. Let’s get you some coffee. ”

Reece followed Louie toward what would likely be a steady stream of caffeine consumed over many hours. Hastings was already seated at the breakfast table when they entered, a coffee mug in his hand and a large topographical map spread before him. “Good morning, James. What are you doing up? I thought you’d sleep for days. ”

This guy is pretty cheery for as much as we drank last night. “Yes, sir, good morning to you as well. I’m good, but I’ll be better as soon as I get some coffee in me. Thank you again for last night. Dinner was great and I enjoyed our talk. ”

“Ah, I get carried away with the bloody politics. Get some coffee and rest up today. ”

“If it’s all the same with you, I think it would be good for me to get out and about. ”

“Understood. Then come have a look at the map. I’ll give you the lay of the land. ”

Reece filled a mug from an old-fashioned urn and added some sugar and cream, a bit disappointed that there was no sign of honey. He took a seat next to Rich and tried to focus his blurry vision on the map in front of him.

“This, as you know, is the Niassa Reserve. We hunt this block here. ” Hastings outlined the boundaries with his thick, tanned finger. “We just finished the paperwork to take over this neighboring block, which will more than double the size of our concession. We are going to be busy with clients over the next few months and we need you to help scout the new block, if you’re up for it. ”

“Sure, I’d be happy to. I can’t promise that I’ll know what I’m looking for, but I’ll give it a shot. ”

“You’ll have a couple of trackers with you. They know the game better than anyone; they just don’t have a sense of the big picture. Neither of them can read or write very well, either, so I can’t rely on them to give me much of a report. There’s an old camp here on this river; check it out and let me know what kind of shape it’s in. After that, the three of you can spend a few weeks seeing what we’ve got for animals out there. Just having you moving around will help with the poaching. You’ll probably run across some snares and you may even bump into some poachers in the block. I know you can handle yourself if that’s the case. We’ll give you a vehicle and you’ll need a proper rifle, which I’ve got for you. ”

“Check. What can you tell me about the poachers? ”

“Ah, yes. Two lots of them, really. The first are after bush meat. They put out wire snares, thousands of the bloody things. Some are looking for meat to sell in the villages, but a large number of them are conscripted to feed the Chinese mining and lumber operations that are popping up all over the country. The damn snares don’t know the difference between an impala ewe and a lion. We counter them in two ways: one, we patrol constantly and pick up every snare we see and destroy it; we even pay bounties for them. The other way we do it is outreach: we try to employ as many locals as we can here in the camp or out in the field and we distribute a good bit of meat to the villages. The staple of their diet is mealie meal; you’d call it grits, ground-up corn that they cook into a slop. They are all protein starved, so we make sure that everyone gets a piece of what we shoot in the unit. If they help protect the game, the game can provide for them. Sustainable is such a bloody greenie word, but that’s what this is if we do it right. ”

“Sounds like everyone wins that way, ” Reece said. “What about the second group of poachers? Guessing they feed the Asian black market? ”

“Exactly. The Chinese are raping Africa blind for her resources. They come in and make deals with the corrupt officials and mine whatever they want. It’s all economic for them; there’s zero return for the communities. Where’s Jimmy Carter now? Sorry, I’m getting political again. As part of that Chinese presence, the demand for ivory and rhino horn has a direct line to the source. We’ve seen sophisticated poaching syndicates, often in bed with the game departments, all over Africa. We don’t have any rhino here, so they’re mainly after elephants. You won’t see any Chinese in the field but they’re pulling the strings. The ivory gets smuggled out along with all of the other resources to feed the demand back in Asia. ”

“Sounds similar to the drug problem in the U. S. As long as there is a demand, the cartels will provide the supply. With the demand from Asia, turning the tide on the supply side will be tough. ”

“Right you are, James. Unfortunately, right you are. ”

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