The Jungle Warrior (10 page)

Tarzan ruffled the soft, greasy fur on Karnath's head then walked outside. The rain masked Kerchak's grumbling, but Tarzan tracked the old silverback to a large rock where he sat under the bows of a great tree to shelter from the storm. The silverback cast a glance at him and snorted, then gazed back into the darkness. Despite their clashes, they held a begrudging respect for one another.

Tarzan climbed next to Kerchak and listened for what was bothering the old ape. This close, Tarzan could smell wild garlic on the silverback's raspy breath as they peered into the darkness. The wind blew the rain against them, dampening any telltale scent or sound of what was agitating them.

•••

Through the night-vision goggles, the vivid red and orange thermal signatures of the apes stood out in sharp relief from the cool blue-green background of the jungle.

Nikolas Rokoff lay downwind. His body was so tense that the only movement was the beating of his heart. He had been watching the gorillas since he'd crawled through the mud into position an hour ago.

He was delighted his plan had worked so flawlessly. His original intention of hanging around Sango to grill the locals for information on the mountain gorillas hadn't been necessary as luck had led him straight to the Canler boy browsing the Internet, looking up details about the Greystokes. Once Canler had left the computer, without taking the precaution to delete his browsing history, it had been a simple task for Rokoff to review the web pages. Gathering intelligence was critical to a successful mission and he suspected there might be something helpful in the boy's research.

He carefully read through the information relating to the Greystokes, and skipped the stories about a murderer on the loose in America. Why was Canler so interested in this? He made a mental note of that in case it should prove useful at a later date. Then he found the relevant pages, about the legendary White Ape said to haunt the jungles of the Congo.

This was the very reason Rokoff was here. Once he had chased such rumors and left empty-handed. The story still plagued him as if the wild foe was taunting him, determined to be the one creature he would never be able to hunt. Finding Canler in Sango had been a stroke of luck and his hunter's sense told him he was on the right track. From that point, it had been simple enough to talk loudly about the apes and ensure his path crossed with Clark and Robbie at the nearest bar so he could ingratiate himself with them.

While pulling together the logistics for his mission, Rokoff had arranged rapid transportation from the jungle, which was always difficult in a backward country. He paid the local poachers to comb the area for any signs of the gorillas. Their instructions were simple: If they encountered any they were to keep them alive and tag them with the small GPS trackers he had provided. Had he not watched the poachers' encounter with the wild man firsthand, he would never have believed it. Obviously the poachers had thought no man or beast could resist the might of a heavily armed gang—a mistake they had paid for with their lives. But still, they did successfully plant a GPS tracker on the wild man before he mercilessly slew them.

Following the White Ape was proving more difficult than anticipated. He couldn't believe any creature could pass through the dense forest at such speed. He had been forced to push ahead of Paulvitch just so he could make it to the plateau before nightfall. Now here he was, lying flat in thick mud.

Patience was the single virtue Rokoff possessed. It was the key quality for any hunter. He'd counted thirteen targets. Tarzan's distinctive thermal pattern made him stand out from the gorillas. The wild man crouched next to the large silverback. Both of them tilted their heads trying to pick up the faintest hint of what lay in the darkness. Rokoff was certain he hadn't made a sound, but still something had alerted them.

With a single slow deliberate movement, Rokoff switched his night-vision goggles from thermal imaging to infrared. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the glowing grey-green wash of the plateau. Even though the storm clouds blotted out the moon, the goggles amplified enough ambient light to reproduce the lighting levels of a full moon. The monochrome color palette occasionally made his targets blend into the background, but when they moved it provided the perfect tool for night combat.

The wild man's head suddenly turned in his direction. Rokoff saw the pale eyes peer at him, luminous like a cat's in the night vision. Rokoff's finger froze on the button he had just pressed. Surely the apeman couldn't have heard the sound? The equipment was designed to be virtually silent and Rokoff himself hadn't heard anything. Yet the wild man half turned toward him, his head bobbed as if trying to detect a subtle odor. Rokoff knew he was well concealed, but he experienced a sudden doubt. Could the wild man see him in the darkness? Had life in the jungle sharpened his senses to an extraordinary, almost superhuman, level?

The silverback grunted again and the wild man's attention slid from Rokoff to the darkness across the plateau. Rokoff quickly checked the position of the other gorillas, all sheltering under the jungle canopy. When he looked back at the rock he saw only the silverback. The wild man had vanished.

Rokoff felt something he had not experienced during a hunt since he was a teenager. Panic. Had he been spotted? He scanned the plateau, his head turning so fast he almost struck a tree and gave away his position. There was no sign of the ape-man, but Rokoff hadn't become a great hunter by assuming his prey was weaker than him. Every animal had guile enough to be respected, this opponent doubly so. He switched the goggles back to thermal imaging, half expecting to see the deadly figure of a man standing over him.

Instead, the warm hues of the gorillas revealed themselves and with these a faint thermal image of a figure leaping through the tree canopy impossibly fast and, more importantly, away from Rokoff.

Whatever had spooked the wild man was a blessing and he was thankful for the distraction. Rokoff turned his attention back to the aircraft and wondered what secrets it held, but forced such ideas from his head. He was a man with little room in his mind for anything other than planning the outcome of the hunt. Okeke had placed a very specific order with his top hunter, and Rokoff had to deliver on it.

He picked up the thermal image of the baby gorilla sitting within the torn aircraft fuselage. With slow, deliberate movements, Rokoff slid his hunting rifle from his shoulder and lined up the young ape in his crosshairs.

R
obbie had struggled to keep up with Jane as she led him along the animal trail, warily checking for any new poacher traps. The beams from their wind-up flashlights shone across the Dum-Dum clearing. Jane beat against a hollow tree and Robbie was surprised by the deep timbre of the sound that rang out. They stood in the rain and waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Tarzan appeared. Jane stumbled over her words as she tried to explain the threat Rokoff posed. Concerned for his family, Tarzan took Jane with him. The only words he grunted to Robbie were about following the trail back to the camp and waiting.

Now Robbie sat in Rokoff's Land Cruiser to shelter from the rain and decide on what he should do. His nervous fingers toyed with the GPS scanner, which still flashed the location of the discarded tag in the mud. He randomly pressed some of the buttons and flicked through different channel frequencies—stopping on one that was rapidly moving away from him. Tarzan—it had to be. Nothing else could move so swiftly, but he couldn't guess how Rokoff had managed to tag him.

His heart was in his mouth when the blip stopped for some time. They had been gone for almost an hour and a half so they must have reached Tarzan's home. Could they be at the lost aircraft? He stared at the longitude and latitude figures, burning them into his memory. This is what they needed. He headed to the bar debating if this was the right time to tell Clark. Most of the loggers had gone to their shacks for the night leaving only Mister David and Esmée sitting with Clark and Archie. They were discussing the possibility of moving the camp once more to a new area of rare hardwoods their scouts had discovered. They were so wrapped in their conversation that they didn't notice him enter.

“We can get the next boatload through to Nigeria,” said Clark pointing to some figures written on a paper. “Get the timber laundered there and we get a damn good price.”

Robbie glanced at the scanner and saw that Tarzan was now moving back in their direction. This was not the time to tell Clark. Lost in thought, he stumbled into a table with a loud clatter. All eyes turned to him. He must have been a sight—drenched to the skin, covered in mud and clutching the GPS. “What's up?” said Clark, automatically suspicious.

Robbie hesitated then told them what they'd found out about Rokoff, and about their warnings to Tarzan. He saw Archie's hand massage his temples when he told them how Jane had left with the ape-man, but quickly assured him that they were on their way back.

They all hurried out in the rain to search through Rokoff's belongings. The equipment in the Land Cruiser was state-of-the-art; some of it was even still in its original packaging. Clark opened a long case, revealing a brand-new hunting rifle.

“Well, he ain't taggin' no apes with this thing. It'd blow a head clean off the shoulders.”

“Why leave it all here?” asked Robbie.

“If he's a contract hunter, then I bet this was all given to him as part of the deal. Car'll be a rental. He can afford to leave it behind.”

Almost two hours later Tarzan and Jane returned to the camp and things moved from bad to worse.

Jane was pale and taciturn. Tarzan was in a volcanic rage. He marched past Archie and the others and immediately set upon Rokoff's Land Cruiser. Robbie watched, stunned, as Tarzan began sniffing everything, like a bloodhound. He started opening cases and tossing them into the mud. It wasn't long before he was bellowing with rage and smashed a case through the windshield. He tore the passenger seat from the floor and hurled it through the vehicle, smashing the driver's door with such force that it took the door clean off its hinges. Then, still in a wild fury, Tarzan climbed onto the roof and howled to the rain with a cry more savage than anything Robbie had ever heard. Tarzan's fists pounded into the reinforced steel roof until his knuckles bled and he punched a hole through the metal. His wild tantrum seemed to quell and he leaped down, heading straight for Archie.

Clark's hand instinctively went for the pistol he always kept holstered to his thigh, but Mister David quickly reached out to stop him. A move that probably saved his life.

Tarzan glowered at Archie who took an involuntary step back.

“You bring this on Tarzan!” he growled.

“I had no idea who Rokoff was, I swear.”

Robbie was convinced Tarzan was about to strike Archie and he wondered how long it would take for him to reveal it was he, Robbie, who had brought Rokoff into the camp.

“He's telling the truth!” said Jane, suddenly positioning herself in front of Tarzan.

Panic crossed Archie's face and Clark tensed as if Jane had just stepped in front of a lion, but she didn't seem afraid and, to their amazement, Tarzan backed down.

“Rokoff has taken Karnath,” explained Jane.

Archie looked confused. “What's Karnath?”

“Karnath is a young gorilla,” Robbie explained.

“Killed him?” said Esmée with a gasp, her hand covering her mouth in horror. She had lived through many hardships in the Congo, but had been brought up to respect the gorillas, which were a symbol of hope in her country.

“No. Not dead,” said Tarzan. “Kidnapped.” The word was thick on his tongue, and Robbie guessed it was a term Jane had just taught him.

“Why would he do that?” asked Robbie.

“Pet trade, circus, Third-World zoo. Could be anythin',” said Clark, a little too knowledgeably. “People offer a good price for exotic pets.”

The grief on Tarzan's face deepened and Jane was visibly shaken by Clark's cold analysis.

“Tarzan,” said Archie hesitantly, “please, believe us. We would never have allowed Rokoff to come here if we'd known.”

Robbie was expecting an explosive response from Tarzan—another display of unbridled rage. Instead, the ape-man lowered his head, looked askance at Archie, and said nothing. The simple action brought silence to the camp, broken only by the constant rain. When Tarzan spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically subdued.

“Archie destroy Tarzan's land. Bring pain to Tarzan's family.”

“We'll do everything we can to help,” said Archie who, like everybody else, was nervous about where the conversation was going.

Tarzan spoke in a low voice, and he appeared to struggle with each word. “Tarzan find Karnath. Bring him home.”

“I'm coming with you,” said Jane almost immediately.

Robbie watched Archie's hands clench into fists and the veins in the side of his neck begin to throb. He stared at Jane as if willing her to retract the words, but said nothing. To his relief Tarzan spoke up.

“No. Rokoff hunter. Dangerous.”

“You're safer here,” Archie told Jane, thankful for Tarzan's support.

“No way!” said Jane defiantly. She spun round to face Tarzan, angry with his dismissal. “I'm coming with you. Rokoff is a modern guy, he's not a jungle animal. He's more advanced than you. He's got guns, GPS maps, technology that allows him to see in the dark—have you? If he's heading out of the jungle then you're going to need all the back-up you can get. And when my family was taken,” she indicated the loggers with a sweeping finger, “you helped me get them back. I owe you.”

Tarzan nodded. Robbie suddenly felt Archie and Clark looking at him. Clark's eyes narrowed a little, prompting him to step up.

“I'll come too,” said Robbie. Jane looked unsure so he continued to justify his offer. “Like you said, Tarzan came back for us.” Tarzan's intense gaze fell on Robbie. The suspicion and anger had transformed into a questioning look.