hope that goddamn crazy Aussie finishes Mamba before it’s too late.”
Silence filled the room as Vance stared into space, his thoughts back with Saneh at the hospital.
“You doing alright, Vance?”
He shook his head. “No, when we started PRIMAL I always knew we would lose people. But, I thought as long as we're doing good in the world it would be a sacrifice worth making. I never thought we'd face a decision like this.”
“What are we going to do if we can't raise Bishop?”
He sighed. “I don't know, bud. I really don't know.”
***
MOMBASA, KENYA
“Not bad,” said Bishop as he stood beside Kruger in the foyer of the New Palm Tree Hotel. The building looked well maintained and hospitable. He noticed the white walls had been freshly painted and the staff were dressed in clean, pressed uniforms.
“Don't get too excited, once we dump our gear we're going to head down to Mtongwe.”
“Tong what?”
“Suburb a few miles south of the harbor. Total shit hole.”
As they crossed a terracotta-tiled courtyard Bishop caught a whiff of frangipani and his heart lurched. The fragrant white flower was one of Saneh's favorites.
The room was cramped but clean with two single beds, a desk, and a wardrobe. An antique box TV sat on a stand in the corner. Bishop tossed his bag on a bed. “You good to go?”
Kruger shook his head. “No. You need a shower. You stink.”
“I don't care. We need to get out there and find this Mamba fucker.”
“Relax, Toppie is making some discreet inquiries.”
“Your dodgy mate?”
“Yeah, Mamba won’t be hard to find.”
“What about weapons?”
“He can hook us up with everything we need. How much cash do you have on you?”
Bishop took out his wallet and handed over some notes. “I've got more in my backpack.” He emptied his clothes out of the bag and used a knife to slice open the lining. He pulled out a thick wad of US dollars and tossed it to Kruger.
“This is a good start but we're going to need more. There's a bank around the corner. I'll see to it and get us a local phone to use. Get yourself cleaned up, ja .”
“OK, I'll sort you out later.”
Kruger shrugged. “I'll get Vance to cover it.” The big man tossed a room key on the bed. “I'll be half an hour at the most.” He disappeared through the door leaving Bishop alone with his pile of clothes.
For the first time since Saneh had been shot he felt tired. Checking his watch he saw it was only a little past midday. Laying back on the bed he contemplated calling Vance to check on Saneh. No, he needed to stay focused on the job at hand. He would take a five-minute nap then shower. As he drifted off his thoughts turned to killing the man called Mamba Mboya.
***
As Bishop slept, the man he wanted to kill sharpened his machete not more than two miles away. “What’s going on with my new poaching crew?” he asked as he tested the edge of the blade with his thumb. His eyes narrowed and he picked up his beer, took a swig, and dripped some of the amber liquid on the sharpening stone.
Kogo grimaced at the sound of the blade dragging across the stone. “I've put the word out.”
“I don't want any gang-banging scum. Get me ex-military guys. The cops are cracking down on poachers. I'm not taking chances with idiots.”
“That makes it harder, boss.”
He stopped sharpening and fixed Kogo with a glare. “You fuck this up and–”
The shrill ring of the phone on the bench interrupted him. He picked it up and held it to his ear. “What?”
“Have you got the horn?” Zhou asked.
“Yes, but it cost us.”
“How so?”
“We ran into trouble and lost four men.”
“But you will still be able to make the shipment, yes?”
“We're a few tusks short.” Mamba tucked the phone under his ear, picked up his assault vest from where it lay on the bench, and slid the machete back in its scabbard. “But, I have a plan. You’ll get what you requested.”
“I better, I have