PRIMAL Renegade (A PRIMAL Action Thriller Book 8) (The PRIMAL Series) (6 page)

“Shut the hell up.” He peered through what remained of the windshield as he drove the vehicle around a bend in the road.

“Colin's dead.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the crumpled body. A bullet had punched through the old Rhodesian’s skull and blood and gore were spread across the back seat.

Mamba grinned manically. “Do you want to split his share?”

***

Bishop lowered his rifle as the four-wheel drive disappeared in a cloud of thick dust. Searching frantically he spotted another truck parked among the bushes. Sprinting to the other vehicle he reached for the key he’d taken from the dead poacher. It didn't fit. “Fuck!” Then he saw the scooter dumped alongside the road. The key worked and the tiny engine spluttered to life. Twisting the throttle he lurched into the dust cloud behind the escaping vehicle.

The little bike hiccupped and coughed like a drunken smoker as it plowed through the soft sand. He squinted, struggling to maintain visual on the escaping truck. Dust stung his eyes and as the road turned his front tire slid. The bike was dumped on its side throwing him over the handlebars. Rolling in the dirt he leaped to his feet and shouldered his weapon. Dust filled the air blocking his view. He lowered the weapon. Mamba was gone and he had failed Saneh.

Princess appeared out of the haze. She walked slowly toward him with her tail between her legs.

“I know the feeling, girl.” Bishop reached out and patted the dog’s head.

Kruger jogged up behind him. “I'm sorry, Bish. I really thought we had them.”

“Me too. But, we're not done yet. We're going to find Mr. Mamba Mboya and I'm going to kill him.”

Kruger nodded as he took a satellite phone from his chest rig. “First we have to get out of here. You need to call Dom.”

CHAPTER 4

NORTH LUANGWA NATIONAL PARK, ZAMBIA

Bishop handed Kruger back his satellite phone before collapsing against a tree. “It’s going to be a few hours before they get here.”

“
Ja
, best get some rest then.” Kruger had removed his boots and lay in the grass using his assault vest as a pillow. Princess was sitting under a tree panting, having drunk her fill from water sloshed into the South African’s bush hat.

He unlaced his boots, wincing as he freed his swollen ankle from the leather. The sprain wasn’t severe but had already turned a dark shade of purple. He took a roll of medical tape from his vest and strapped it. Then he leaned against his gear hoping to get some rest.

The adrenalin was long gone from his system but his mind still raced. He looked over at Kruger who had his damp bush hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Kruger?”

“
Ja.
”

“I should’ve been with her when it happened.”

Kruger lifted the hat from his eyes. “First poaching incident in years, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You couldn’t have predicted that.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. She’s pregnant and I let her put our child at risk. Two rangers with shotguns and a cheap shitty drone isn’t security against gunned-up poachers.”

An awkward silence passed before Kruger spoke. “Look, I know a guy in Mombasa that’s got his ear to the ground. We’ll deal with Mamba first, then Saneh will get better, and after that we’ll talk to Vance about helping Dom and his boys out.”

“Thanks, brother.” Bishop closed his eyes.

The morning sun had crested the trees and was shining fiercely by the time one of the rangers picked them up. Once they’d piled into the safari truck, Kruger and Princess promptly fell asleep. The hound and her owner snored heavily as they drove along the pot-holed dirt road around the perimeter of the national park.

As exhausted as he was Bishop couldn't sleep. He stared out the window at the bush but his mind wasn't on the wilderness. All he could think about was Saneh. The image of her lying unconscious in the dust was a memory he would take to his grave, but not before he put Mamba in one of his own.

As they pulled into the camp Bishop spotted Dom at the entrance to the lecture hall. The New Zealander strode across to the truck as it slowed and yanked open the door.

“Are you guys OK?”

He climbed out and stretched his legs, testing his sprained ankle. “Yeah, we got four of them. The others escaped.” As he spoke Christina appeared from the building. She looked haggard with dark bags under her eyes. “How are you feeling?” he asked, managing a half smile.

“I'm OK. I just spoke to the hospital.”

“Any change?”

Tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I'm so sorry, Aden,” she sobbed.

“Hey, it's not your fault.” Bishop fought back tears of his own as he hugged her. He felt something brush against his leg and glanced down to see Kruger's dog leaning against him. “Hey, have you met Princess?”

The dog greeted Christina with a wet lick that brought a smile to her face and a flurry of pats in return. Bishop managed a smile as he watched the savage hound reveling in the attention. He glanced up at Dom who watched with a sad expression on his face. “Hey, bud, can we talk?”

The New Zealander nodded and led him into the lecture hall. Kruger joined them as Dom opened the refrigerator and offered them each a beer.

Bishop waved it away. “Does the name Mamba Mboya mean anything to you?”

Kruger took a beer and twisted the top off. “Tall black guy,” he added.

Dom nodded. “Yeah, I've heard of him. He's a poacher out of Mombasa; ex-military with access to heavy-duty hardware. You think the boys who did this were his?”

“Not think, we know. Mamba was there, we just missed him.”

“Jesus, that's not good.”

“I need to find him. Kruger and I are heading to Mombasa.”

Dom shook his head. “Maybe it's best to let it go, Aden. These people are killers.”

Kruger snorted into his beer. “We're not exactly Boy Scouts.”

Bishop shot a frown at the PRIMAL operative. “Dom, we need to bring this evil piece of shit to justice. He could have killed Chris and he may have killed Saneh.”

“I've got some contacts down there in the anti-poaching community. They might be able to help.” He picked up his beer and led them outside. “I want you to see something.”

Bishop followed him out the back across the open area to where they had tested the drone. Behind the clearing the rangers had constructed a makeshift pen. Inside lay the baby rhino. The calf rested in the shade of a tree bleating pathetically for its dead mother.

“Poor little fella,” said Bishop.

“His mother was one of three breeding-age females on Luangwa. Now, without her, the program is likely to fail. I can almost guarantee the black rhino will be extinct in Zambia within five years.” He took a swig from his beer.

“Once Kruger and I are done, I can guarantee Mamba will be the one who ends up extinct,” said Bishop.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I can take you down to Mombasa and introduce you to my anti-poaching contacts. You're going to need an extra set of hands.”

He shook his head. “No, Kruger and I will take care of this. You need to stay here with Christina, she needs you.”

“Yeah, and Saneh needs you.”

“I can't do anything for her here. She would want me to hunt Mamba down.” He placed his hand on Dom’s broad shoulder. “I’m not putting anyone else’s life at risk. Can you give us a lift to Lusaka?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They walked to the front of the lecture room where Christina continued lavishing Princess with attention.

“Hey Dom, can I leave the hound here with you guys?” asked Kruger. “I'll come get her when all this is done.”

“Sure, Chris will be happy with that.”

“I'm going to grab some gear. I'll meet you back here in five.” Bishop left the two men watching Christina with the dog and made his way across to the accommodation. He hadn't been back since the accident and the single room bungalow was exactly how he and Saneh had left it the previous morning. Their clothes were still strewn on the bed, dirty dishes in the sink. On the bedside table sat the only photo she traveled with, a picture of them at the beach. Stripping off his khaki ranger shirt and camouflage shorts he dressed in jeans and a plain T-shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed he grabbed a backpack and stuffed some other clothes inside. As he finished packing his phone rang.

It was Vance. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?”

Bishop could tell from the background noise that the PRIMAL Director of Operations was calling him from an aircraft. “Yeah, I'm OK.”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know we'll be on the ground in Lusaka at 1330 hours local. We’ll transfer Saneh direct to the medevac bird and get you both back to Abu Dhabi. You at the hospital now?”

“I’m not far away. I'll be there.”

“OK, see you then.”

Bishop terminated the call and grabbed his bag. He left the bungalow and strode across to where Dom and Kruger were waiting next to one of the camp’s hardtop Land Cruisers. “They're going to transfer Saneh at 1330,” he said tossing his bag in the four-wheel drive.

“We better get a move on if we're going to be there in time,” said Dom as he climbed in with one of his rangers.

“You talk to Vance?” asked Kruger when the others were out of earshot.

“Yeah.”

“You tell him we’re going after Mamba?”

“No. He wants me to go back with Saneh.”

“Do you think he’ll authorize a mission?”

“Unlikely, not with PRIMAL on lock down. We leave now and Mamba’s trail goes cold.”

“Fuck that. You and me can have that prick wrapped up within a few days.”

Bishop slapped him on the shoulder. “Means the world to me, Kruger.”

“What can I say, you and Saneh are family... and no one messes with my family.”

***

CURE HOSPITAL, LUSAKA

At 1305 hours the nurse led Bishop to Saneh's room. She lay perfectly still in the hospital bed. If it wasn't for the hoses running from her mouth and nose she could have been sleeping. He swallowed back his tears, turned to the bald African American seated in the corner of the room and gave him a nod. “Thanks for coming.”

Vance pried his hulking frame from the plastic chair and gathered Bishop up in a bear hug.

“Hey steady on, old man, you're going to break a rib,” he wheezed.

Vance released him and glanced at the bed. “I feel so helpless seeing her like this.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

A knock at the door caught their attention. Doctor Anderson walked in. Behind him a team of green-uniformed medical staff waited with a gurney.

“Gentlemen, we need to prepare the patient for transport. If I could ask you both to move to the waiting area.”

“Saneh, her name’s Saneh,” said Bishop.

“That's a lovely name,” said the doctor as he led the team of medical professionals into the room.

He felt Vance's hand on his shoulder and let the PRIMAL chief guide him out the door.

“She's in the best hands we could find, bud.”

“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it.”

Kruger sat in the waiting room and greeted Vance with a handshake. “Hey, boss.”

“I'm guessing you two have some idea of who’s responsible for Saneh's condition?”

Bishop met his steely gaze. “We’ve got a few leads to chase down.”

“I know you want vengeance, Bish, but now ain’t the time. Saneh needs you. We'll mount an op to deal with these shit-kickers once we've got her safe and stable in the UAE.”

“You’ll do that? Even with the CIA after us?”

Vance nodded. “They messed with our family.”

“Kruger and I can lay the groundwork,” said Bishop.

“No, this can wait till we’re ready. You roll now and you're on your own with no gear and no intel. I'll get Chua and Flash to dig up all the dirt and then we’ll take ‘em out together.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. Kruger and I will grab our gear and meet you at the airport. Are you OK to take care of things at this end?”

“Yeah.” Vance's voice softened. “Do what you need to do, buddy.”

***

KENNETH KAUNDA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT,
LUSAKA

Vance watched as Doctor Anderson and his staff handed over Saneh to the medical team he had brought from Abu Dhabi. She looked so delicate and frail strapped to a gurney with medical staff swarming around her; a dark contrast to the energetic PRIMAL operative he’d known for nearly five years. He still remembered the day she had joined the team. Bishop, in typical fashion, had rescued her from certain death at the hands of her Iranian masters. Vance admitted he’d been dubious about recruiting the beautiful intelligence operative into PRIMAL. However, his doubts had been laid to rest as Saneh had proven her mettle time and time again. She had quickly won over the team of former intelligence and military operatives and become an integral part of the family.

He waited as they lifted her inside the Gulfstream. The medevac aircraft was one of the most advanced air ambulances in the world. Had Tariq not owned the jet it would have cost close to half a million dollars to charter. A price Vance would have paid personally to ensure she received the best care available. He saw Saneh as a daughter and that meant the fragile life inside her was the closest thing to a grandchild he would ever have.

Satisfied she was safely inside, Vance scanned the airport for any sign of Bishop. He checked his watch; they were scheduled to take off within a few minutes.

“Sir, we are ready to go,” the steward said sticking his head out the door.

“OK, buddy, I'll be right up.”

As he pulled his phone out to call Bishop it vibrated with a text message.

Enroute to Mombasa. Objective is Mamba Mboya. Will report once target is neutralized. Have Sandpit identify follow-up targets.

He tried to call but the phone rang out. This was exactly what he was afraid of. Saneh was the only thing that had been keeping Bishop from coming undone. She was his anchor, and now with her life hanging in the balance he would let his rage consume him.

As Vance climbed the stairs he tried to ring Kruger.

“Sir, you're going to have to power your device down before take off,” said the steward.

“Will do.” He stared at the screen as the call rang out again.

“Sir, we need to secure the door.”

“OK.” Vance turned off the phone and took his seat at the front of the jet. As he strapped in he glanced over his shoulder at the medical staff preparing Saneh for takeoff. “Come on, girl,” he whispered. “Come back to us before that man of yours gets himself killed.”