Читать книгу The Doctrine of Presence - Benjamin Vance - Страница 15

It’s not my idea of fun, riding in a stiff-sprung safari vehicle packed with people and gear and rolling about ten miles per hour, if lucky. I mean, I don’t think it’s comfortable for a twenty year old, let alone for a sixty year old who questions his motives with every bump. That was me, not Fredo. Gimp never complained; just hung on with one hand or the other to take weight off his hips. I worried about him. Actually, I worried about him, Fredo, the guides, the vehicles and any damn thing else I could think of. That’s what I do; worry. It’s like a disease.

The first night, Fredo wanted to pitch camp next to a depleted stream, where there seemed to be plenty of cover and where we could also see for about a kilometer in every direction. We agreed to keep the fire to a minimum, and fifteen minutes later Michaele had a six foot bonfire roaring. When I questioned his motives, he told me that we must have it to keep predators away. The other Africans agreed. Fredo’s eyes got big and he said, “What predators?”

N’tolo proudly responded, “Cat and dog predators, sir.”

“What the fuck you mean Toto? You mean like lions and stuff, and maybe … what are they … Hyenas?”

“Yes, Frodo. Many stuffs here along river where animals get killed. We should have good fire all night.”

Fredo said, “I’m sleeping in the fuckin’ truck; don’t give a shit how hard the floor is.”

We pitched a tent for each group of three, but Fredo slept in his vehicle. About three in the morning I heard him screaming like a girl and thrashing and banging around in the SUV. Then I heard our guides running like a herd for his vehicle. By the time I got my boots on and out the tent flap, the three rescuers were laughing like they’d heard the funniest joke in recorded history. Fredo had inadvertently shared his bed with a scorpion. It hadn’t stung him, but it had tried. He beat it into black jam with his boot and would not stay in the SUV any more. N’tolo made him a fire-sharpened pole and he sat by the fire with it until the sun came up. He said he had never liked scorpions or spiders. That night he added “dog and cat predators” to his list.

The next morning we were sleepy on the trail, only about a kilometer from our disastrous first-night, when a helicopter flew low overhead. Instinctively, I thought it was monitoring us, but it flew straight down the trail we were taking, and off into the distance. After about another five miles, we came to a large grassy plain upon which the helicopter had landed and a film crew was loading equipment into one of three six-wheeled, articulated axle Unimog trucks. The trucks were bigger, higher and smoother riding than our vehicles were. I coveted them immediately and incalculably. We were hailed by a couple of the camera crew with smiles galore, and I smelled money.

The crew was filming wildlife for a new German film about commercialization of nomad tribes in Tanzania and Kenya. Most of the crew was French, but several were British and Italian. The Italians spoke English as well. The French preferred not to condescend to speak English, however. I asked if we could watch from a distance. There was no problem with watching, and a few of the over-staffed group came over to stand and bullshit around our vehicles. I asked Michaele to go over to a small huddled group of African men and see if he could make friends. He knew the drill and he and Stretch went over to talk. After ten minutes or so, Koinet came back to our spot with a disgusted look on his face. I could imagine what had prompted his return. N’tolo did not choose to go over and talk even though I approved it; his choice.

We observed the interesting machinations of the filming crew until after noon. It was generally dry and cool that time of year and we had to be nowhere special. The crew was paying close attention to a small herd of impala and an even smaller group of bushbuck grazing and cavorting around a small drying stream bed. The animals seemed accustomed to the people and were not the least bit spooky. The morning had been consumed with varying camera angles, boom heights and camera station moves. Meanwhile, the small cluster of umbrellas, chairs and tables which apparently concealed and protected the director and his intimate crew, never moved.

A distant cacophony of sounds and a gunshot prequeled the unorganized, panicked running of animals. One of our new friends laughed and told us that the running was supposed to be because of a pride of lions sneaking up on the grazers. The lions would be filmed at a different location where an animal would be shot and baited to facilitate close filming of a pride. The grazers were gone in a few seconds after the shots were fired. I hoped they could find none to bait the lions. I decided we were novices at this and wished for an accurate and high capacity sidearm.

We moved back to the west toward Lake Amboseli, since south and east of Lake Amboseli held the greatest elephant populations. If we had to flirt with the international boundary and head farther south once we got there, so be it. Trails and roads were difficult if one wanted to stay semi-anonymous. East and south of Lake Amboseli is where the greatest number of elephant carcasses were to be found as well, according to Donald Alden. South of the Amboseli National Park, still called Amboseli and near the Tanzania border, there was another large concentration of elephants. Seemingly, the elephants would be more susceptible to poaching outside the park. However, the higher human population south of the park may have stymied some degree of poaching.

Early afternoon found us under some large trees with a map laid out on the hood of one SUV. We hadn’t come far in half a day, but learned something; even innocent cinematographers use animals to their advantage at times. How much of a step would it be from scaring to orphaning, for movie viewer empathy?

I don’t know how I had service, but my cell rang and startled us all. It sounded like a 140 decibel jet out there where few ambient sounds persisted. I hurried to answer and got a deep, “Hey Daiwee, how’s it hangin’?”

I said, “Well it sure is unusual to hear from you Leo. Where the hell are you right now? In a nice air-conditioned bedroom, no doubt?”

“Look up, Daiwee.”

Just then a blue-bottomed Beechcraft Ute buzzed our position. It came back for a second run and I almost got sick to my stomach wondering about the machines we were carrying that would enable Leo to locate us, almost to the meter. I numbly realized the SUVs would be outfitted with tracking methods. Hell, they were rented after all.

I responded, “Leo what are you doing here? Who did you bring with you?”

“We came to rescue you Daiwee. Fredo called me two days ago and pleaded for me to come.” He chuckled a little. “Fredo is not a boy scout you know. His heart’s in the right place, but he doesn’t like the boonies. If you continue to the Amboseli air strip, we have some presents for you and the rest of us too. Can you take down some coordinates?”

“Yeah, shoot. We have a map laid out in front of us now.”

“Okay, 2 degrees, 38, 42.25 south by 37 degrees, 14, 55.37 east will put you just about in the middle of the air strip. It should take you a full day to get there if you follow the road you’re on now. We’ll wait, Leo out.”

Gimp commented as he gingerly sat down in his chair, “Well, at least we’ll have some company tonight if we make it in.”

Fredo, who had overheard part of the conversation came over to the SUV to ask, “Did I hear right? Was that Leo in the plane that just buzzed us?”

I smiled and said, “Absolutely, he wants us to meet him at the Amboseli air strip tonight. We’re having steaks, shrimp and all the fixings … I wish. He said he has some surprises for us though.”

Fredo smiled, put his hands on his hips and said, “No shit?”

“Yep, I guess we should get started … any problems?” I noticed a look in Fredo’s eyes and said, “What?”

“Look Daiwee, I don’t ask for much.” Gimp’s laugh interrupted him and he gave Gimp a John Wayne look. He started over, “I don’t ask for much, but one of the guys I’m riding with farts like a skunk. It’s almost making me vomit. Can I ride with you and Toto?”

Gimp said, “Holy shit---you baby! I’ll ride with them. Damn, do we have any clothes pins in case it gets too bad in there, Daiwee? Fredo; want some cheese with your whine?”

I laughed, but told Fredo to get his stuff and ride with us. N’tolo said he’d ride with the other men if I desired, but I knew what that would entail; me driving and the Africans arguing all the way to the air strip. The main reason I split them up is I was fearful they may hurt each other if unsupervised. They were bright men, but had this strange abrasion going on among them from the start. Perhaps tribal, I thought.

After everyone was satisfied and calm, we hit the bumpy road once again. About an hour into our washboard existence, an actual lioness streaked across the road in front of us. I yelled at Fredo to look, and N’tolo said she was chasing a small deer. I didn’t see the deer since I had been looking out the side window.

We made a long curve to the right and there was a puff of dust settling about twenty feet off the road. N’tolo said, “She kill it, see.” The lioness had what looked like a small dog in her mouth, and it was obviously dead. When she saw us, apparently for the first time, she ran like hell into the bush.

Just then, Fredo started yelling, “Stop, stop … stop this fucking tin can now, Toto!”

N’tolo and I were so surprised by his agitation that N’tolo reflexively slammed on the brakes. The second vehicle swerved to the edge of the road to miss us and stopped as well. Fredo, jumped from the vehicle and ran as fast as he could to a small clump of brown grass, carefully reached down and picked up something. My mind reeled. I thought he’d picked up a snake, and he hates snakes as well. He bundled something up in his arms, under his shirt tail and when he reached the truck, I saw a little pointed black nose and two big eyes sticking out. N’tolo smiled at Fredo, pointed and said “Dik Dik deer.”

Fredo said, “Dick your dear, Toto. Ain’t this the finest thing you ever saw in your life, Daiwee? She’s smaller than a puppy. I wonder what kind of milk she needs.”

Looking admiringly at the little thing I said, “Dik Dik milk, daddy. Maybe someone will have something for it when we reach the air strip. If I can believe the map, there’re about four hotels in that one area. Someone is bound to have a bit of milk that’ll do.”

Fredo said, “Let’s go, so she doesn’t get hot in this jalopy.”

N’tolo said, “Mr. Sankaw will tell ranger. Maybe you need to let Dik Dik go now?”

Both Fredo and I said, “Bullshit, let’s go.” N’tolo started forward. He looked back to Fredo and grinned at the little face protruding from Fredo’s shirt.

* * *

We made many bad turns and false starts prior to arriving at Ol Tukai and the Amboseli air strip. Fredo was getting a bit antsy about the little Dik Dik he’d named Tinker Belle at some point during our trip. He was awfully quiet … for Fredo. He didn’t interrupt idle conversations, as was his usual penchant. I overheard him softly talking to the little animal several times, and his mind didn’t seem to stray too far from her. It actually passed through my mind that he may have been bitten by some exotic, disease carrying insect or had a relapse. As it turned out he was just bitten by the love bug.

We pulled into the air strip area well after dark and drove to the general zone of the west end. There was a small building and our aircraft was sitting on a side apron. It was difficult to make out the general form of the plane in the blackness, except for the dim red cockpit lights. We drove cautiously around the building and came almost bumper to bumper with a large eight-wheeled Unimog truck. Its lights were off, there were no reflectors on the front and it was painted in a vague camoflage pattern. N’tolo managed to miss it and we passed two others before we approached the plane. I wondered if the film crew made it there before us; entirely possible in a Unimog; except theirs were six-wheeled, and didn’t have big cab-over bodies. N’tolo pulled up perpendicular to the aircraft and I got out.

Cautiously approaching the shape of the plane with a red diode light, I saw it was also painted with a strange camoflage pattern on the “sky” side. I saw the light blue of the bottom earlier in the day and it brought back memories of WW-II bombers painted that way to make it difficult for German fighters to spot them. Just before I knocked on the door, I heard murmurs from inside. The door opened and a red glow sprang from the craft. I was greeted by a red Leo and red Greenie. The only thing I could think to say was, “Greenie, you look Red.”

The third face to peer into the gloom was our old friend (and his) Andrew Wall. My heart sank and my hackles were immediately up. I said, “What the hell’s going on. Are you guys here to assist the movie team or something?”

Leo was the first to respond, “No way Daiwee, why would you think that shit?”

“Well, those three Unimogs belong to them don’t they?”

“Not only no, but hell no. Those beauties are ours Daiwee.” He glanced beyond me and said, “Hey, guys how you been?”

I turned and saw Fredo wheeling Gimp up to the craft. Gimp had Tinker Belle in his lap. She was sitting there like she owned him, and his wheel chair. The three African gentlemen apparently were left with our belongings and the SUVs. I worried about that too.

Once Leo and Greenie saw Tinker Belle, it was all over. They practically jumped down the ramp to see her. It was all oohs and aahs, for what seemed like ten minutes, while Andy and I just stood there watching in the red glow, with silly smiles plastered on. When at last Leo was allowed to carry the little thing, they came slowly up the ladder like they were carrying the Queen of Sheba and the spacious plane was her castle.

After all were inside, Andy shut the door and the interior lights changed from red to dim pink incandescent. It was then entirely evident the plane was no standard craft. There was a bulkhead with door about half way to the tail and another light-proof bulkhead between the passenger area and the cockpit. There were no windows. I assumed the “windows” were cameras and antennae of various types mounted on the exterior. This was definitely a “spook” plane. Andy asked us to sit and enjoy something to drink. Since it appeared I was going to be inside for a while once I sat down, I excused myself and started to the SUVs to brief the other gents. Leo interrupted and asked if he could go talk to them. He said he knew everything Andy was going to say anyway. I agreed and sat down, finally enjoying something that wasn’t bouncing my kidneys to mush.

Andy poured some bottled ice water and as he was doing so I heard a hum start and felt cool air hit me from the plane’s vents. It felt like heaven. I saw Gimp shift around a couple of times while we were getting settled and dispensing with our portion of small talk. If those beauties outside were really ours, I was most glad for him. I asked if he was having any pain. He replied, “Not much … nothing I can’t handle. I think my back is screwed from trying to hold my head close to the window all afternoon. That Sankaw guy’s farts could be used for strategic weapons … my God, Fredo, you were right.”

That comment broke the tension and after we settled down and Leo returned with some positive information about our employees, Andy started by asking how our trip had been so far. We explained and related how we had watched the movie team and learned a few things and how Fredo had found “Tink”, as he called her. Andy looked down at his water and after a few seconds started his shadowy briefing.

“Gentlemen, as far as you’re concerned, this plane and I belong to the State Department. Our pilots and two of our technicians are staying at a nearby hotel. Larry, one of the technicians, is in the rear of the plane. He’s been keeping tabs on you guys, making sure you were continuing to move along. Of course I wanted to wait for you here so you could see what presents we brought you. These vehicles have been cleared at the highest levels. Your cover is similar to what we discussed several months ago; photography. Your current tasks are: first, get some rest, then meticulously inventory your Unimogs, then get to work. I think you’ll find there is something for everyone in those vehicles. They were designed based on current threat levels and have some strange stuff on board, so learn it all.

“Your real job or mission if you like, is to be genuine poacher hunters.” Just then, for some reason Tink jumped into Andy’s chair. She turned her head to look at him, and then settled at his side. He grinned, lightly scratched her tiny head and asked her if she was hungry. Leo retorted he forgot to mention he had sent the Afrikaners to get some antelope or goat milk and baby bottles. Fredo and everyone else exclaimed their surprise and cheered Leo.

Andy continued with a drowsy Tink at his side, “We know there is poaching going on outside the park, a ways south of here. Most of it happens at night. You have all the latest generation night vision devices you’ll need. Everything is rechargeable and replaceable. Don’t treat any of that stuff like it’s yours; it’s expendable, remember that. You guys are not expendable. Like I said, there’s some poaching going on in Amboseli. However, the poaching that we’re interested in is in Tsavo East area and it is Rhino poaching on the protected reservations. There are Muslims in this country and for the most part, they are law abiding citizens. However, we believe the poachers are backed and guided by a group of Yemenis using Somali separatists. You see, every Yemeni man covets Rhino horn to make his dagger or Jambiya handle, which in my opinion substitutes for his dick. Those Rhino horns are going for as much as thirty six thousand dollars apiece.

“You can see why it’s difficult to control poaching. I also think you can understand why there are Yemenis in Kenya directing the killing of Kenyan Rhinos. The Kenyan government has done much to stop the killing, but they are hampered by some corrupt officials and religious zealots who would kill the last Rhino on Earth to get horn. Also, there is a great bunch of rangers from the Big Life Foundation who are doing a great job in Tanzania and Kenya around Amboseli and Chyulu Hills. They have about 20 outposts and drive dark green Land Rovers mostly. I gave you a map of their locations. Try to steer clear of them; you might give ‘em a bad reputation. In any case, they won’t be where you will probably end up.

“All that said; the Yemeni are not here just to get Rhino horn. They are here to help destabilize the country. You know, at one time Kenya was considered the England of Africa. Of course all that fell apart due to ill treatment of the indigenous, mainly Kikuyu. The Brits are going to have to pay big bucks in reparations for the Mao Mao debacle, even at this late date I think. Al Qaeda sees a great opportunity to destabilize and spread their influence at any time and for any reason. The Mao Mao tragedy may be one of those opportunities, so it may be advantageous to have some of those old KLFA members on our side. They were fierce nationalists.

“We know of seven mosque-associated cells in and around cities in Kenya, but we think the head boys are hiding out in the bush close to Tsavo East, somewhere east of the park along the Sabaki or Tana Rivers. It could be they are headquartered in Garissa or even close to the refugee camps. Wait ‘til you get a load of those militant incubating shit holes. I have some maps for you and I’ll help you from a distance. It’s a huge area. One can get lost for good in that place, and you guys can lose people permanently, if you get my drift. You should make yourselves known by your low profile in Amboseli. Keep it low and you’ll be considered a threat to only poachers. I know … I know … we’re using you---but hell, look outside. You guys know what to do and how to do it. We just gave you the tools you need to do damn near anything, except go to the moon … any questions?”

We all looked at each other and eventually deference was mine. I sat up straighter and looked at the other four. My first question was directed to Leo and Greenie, “Why and how are you guys here?”

Leo looked at Greenie, who said, “Well, Leo called me after Andy touched base with him and we decided you wouldn’t think poorly of us anymore if we brought us some toys as an apology gift. We were going to come anyway, eventually. Fredo called us when he got out of the hospital and asked us to come. He said you were taking too many chances with our little boy Gimp.” At that point Gimp said, “Fuck you Green jeans.”

Greenie threw Gimp a kiss and continued, “We missed you guys is all. We just got a good reason to come to this hell hole and took it. This should be fun if everyone wants to do it, and we get to do some decent things before we check out … I mean in a couple of ways, you know.”

I didn’t answer immediately, but looked at both of them with a blank stare and waited. When I sensed Andy opening his mouth I quickly said, “You guys all know we could end up being statistics here, don’t you? Andy, has a job to do. Shit knows who he’s really working for and we may never find out. Leo and I have been in this position before, but you three haven’t. It is one hell of a place to be. The only people who will officially love us are the gas stations where we fill up, if we ever get a chance to.” Andy cut in with, “Those babies hold three-hundred gallons of diesel and are full. You …” By then, I believe I was shaking. I cut him off with, “I don’t give a fuck, Andy… you know what I’m talking about!”

One could have heard a mouse fart. I knew we were the only ones who could perform the mission at that point, and I wanted Andy to know that if he purposely screwed us we would not forget. The only reason I saw to trust him was Leo. They went way back. But in the world of spooks, that didn’t mean squat. Leo could just as easily be collateral damage in an international “plausible deniability” scenario. We would be on our own as soon as that plane left the ground and I wanted Andy to know we knew it.

Andy stared at me and declared, “I will do everything in my power to ensure you guys don’t get left behind. I have never done that and I never will; this you gotta believe.”

I said, “Okay, I guess we better get to work. Those babies should not be sitting on the runway when the sun comes up. I would like to brief our African employees and then we can get moving. Let’s see if they have some dinner for Tink.” I’ll be damned if she didn’t open her eyes and look at me when I mentioned her name.