Читать книгу Diamond Legacy - Monica McCabe - Страница 12

Matt tugged at the ill-fitting uniform and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to stretch the fabric across his upper arms. The pinch was a bit uncomfortable, but he’d known worse. He slammed the locker door shut and made his way back through the employee lounge.

Two women occupied the room, one eating lunch at a table and the other pushing buttons on a microwave. Both looked up when he entered.

The blonde at the table flashed a flirty smile. “New here?” she asked him.

“How can you tell?”

“You’ve got that pained look of someone who doesn’t like uniforms.”

“Busted.” He pulled up a chair. “You ladies eat here often?”

Tittering laughter grated across his ears, and the blonde sent a look of interest his way.

“It beats driving all the way into town,” she said. “Besides, the view just got a little better around here.”

“Diana!” Her lunch companion rolled her eyes.

“Well, it did.” She smiled boldly at Matt. “I work the library records counter. We don’t see many handsome, rugged types in there. Only moldy scientists and stuffy lab researchers.”

“Records, huh?” Matt smelled a lead. “You mean like animal origins or shipment details?”

“That and research study results or technical papers. Boring mostly.”

This might be the start of something revealing. “I bet you—”

“Bennett!” Rob Jenkins yelled from the hallway. “We’ve got ground to cover.”

Bloody hell. For the sake of his audience, Matt stood with a heavy sigh. “Nice guy, gonna be a real gem to work for.”

The comment sparked another round of annoying giggles as Matt slid his chair back in place. “Nice seeing you ladies,” he said with a tip of an imaginary hat.

He stepped out into the hallway as Jenkins flipped to the last page on a clipboard. He scribbled a signature and handed it over to a waiting lad.

“We’ll start touring on admin floor.” He glanced up and frowned, taking in Matt’s straining shoulder seams. “Sorry, it’s the largest we had on hand. I’ll order a bigger size next week.”

Matt shrugged, then grimaced at the pinch. A better fitting uniform would be nice, but he didn’t plan on being here long enough to worry about it. It shouldn’t take more than a couple weeks to pick up the diamond trail and track it to the source.

Jenkins started down the hall and Matt followed.

“Janitors are some of our busiest employees,” Jenkins began. “Endless chores around here. From administrative offices to the stables, your day will be packed with manual labor.”

For the next hour, he backed up those words with a laundry list of duties. They twisted through a maze of hallways, offices, and supply rooms, all while Jenkins explained the inner workings of Katanga.

Matt only half listened. The other half mapped out locations to survey later. Places like Victor Keyes office, director of Katanga, and the customs department where international travel papers were generated, even the library. He’d leave no stone unturned.

Finally done with the upper floors, they exited the stairs into the Grand Rotunda. Noise and commotion intensified as Jenkins droned on about Katanga’s high standards, their expectations, and the rule of three Cs. Courtesy, cleanliness, and control.

They kept moving toward the Okavango wing and passed a group of school children on the way. Matt made a pained face, setting off a round of youthful giggling. Jenkins glanced back, but Matt only shrugged, which made the kids laugh even harder.

Amid all the laughter, an unexpected pang of regret struck Matt. It was a damn shame really. Katanga offered incredible opportunities. It appeared organized and lucrative. A beehive of tourism and education.

Limitless potential wasted by running conflict diamonds. It made no sense.

They’d reached the end of the Okavango Hall and entered a vast medical suite. “Our state-of-the-art veterinary,” Jenkins said with pride. “The doctors here are highly trained in research and wild animal care.”

A set of double doors with glass windows beckoned, and Matt found himself gazing into a modern exam room. Two workers in white lab coats tended a baby chimpanzee on one of the many tables. One fed the infant from a baby bottle while the other took the monkey’s measurements and noted the results on a notepad.

“Her mother was killed by poachers.” Jenkins had stepped up to the adjoining door, his voice a mix of sadness and contempt. “She was brought to us by a southern farmer who found her hungry and crying at the edge of his land.”

“What will happen to her?”

“If possible, she’ll be released back to the wild. But as young as this one is, she’ll likely form too strong a bond with her human caretakers, become domesticated. Odds are better she’ll find a home in a zoo or research facility. Perhaps help us better understand her kind.”

Sympathy for the monkey tugged at Matt. He stared at her through the window, wishing he could tell her the pain of being orphaned at a young age never faded. Learning to live with it took time. Some memories were etched in stone, like the sound of your mother’s soft voice, her gentle laughter, forever followed by her screams of terror.

“Let’s go, Bennett.”

Matt tore his eyes away from the scene and shook free the haunting memories. Jenkins stood holding an exterior door ajar, waiting.

They moved outside and Matt let the sun’s warmth chase away lingering shadows. He shifted his world back into sharp focus, to blood diamonds, brutal warlords, and the stench of greed and corruption.

Renewed by familiar determination, Matt followed Jenkins across the compound and into the glass-domed building he’d seen coming in.

“The Oasis Pool,” Jenkins explained as they climbed a long flight of stairs to a viewing platform. “It’s a natural habitat. Right now an albino hippo is in residence.”

Matt stepped over to the railing and gazed into another world. A long, low whistle escaped his lips as he took in a slice of wild delta complete with palm trees, boulders, and a long rock ridge that formed a semicircle around the pool, even a grassy beach of mud and stone.

The hippo rested at the far end of the pool, but it was the crazy woman in the water with it that snagged his attention. “What’s she doing?” Matt noted several others, hard at work setting up a crane and some sort of portable lab.

“We flew in an animal dentist from the States. She’s going to work on the hippo. It’s slated for their National Zoo in Washington DC.”

“Animal dentist?” He tore his eyes away from the woman in the pool to look at Jenkins in surprise. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Jenkins laughed out loud. “She’s one of the best in her field and much in demand, worth every cent in getting her here. That’s her adjusting the harness.” He pointed to Ms. Crazy on her knees in the water.

Obviously what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in bravery. Her back was turned, yet an impossible sense of familiarity tugged at him. He sure as hell didn’t know any animal dentists. He’d never even heard of one. Matt squinted, straining for a better look, but she never turned around or looked up.

“Come on, Bennett,” Jenkins said, “we’ve lots more to see.”

With a final curious glance at the woman in the oasis, he followed.

* * * *

Leaning over to double-check the harness layout, water splashed against Miranda’s face. She brushed at her eyes with her shoulder but didn’t stop aligning the harness at the bottom of the pool. Lifting a semi-conscious two-ton hippo out of the water allowed no margin for error.

Relying on her sense of touch, she ran her hands the entire length of the sunken lattice-work canvas, double-checking the link connectors to the cable that would snap the harness around the animal. Everything felt secure.

Satisfied, she signaled the all clear to Henri, the crane operator.

The only piece left was Estelle. She lurked fifty feet away, fighting the anesthesia spreading in her bloodstream and madder than a hippo had a right to be. The pool had drained low enough that she was fast losing her sense of security and proved it by snorting in dazed agitation, glaring her resentment in Miranda’s direction.

It was enough to give any sane person the willies. Even drugged, an angry hippo was a threat no one wanted to face up close and personal. There was a fundamental reason they were feared by locals more than the river crocodile. They killed more people. She really should get out of the pool.

“Time to move, Miranda.” Jason echoed her thoughts from the safety of a side grid. He and two of Katanga’s interns were using a blunt pole to gently nudge an uncooperative Estelle toward Miranda and the harness.

Distance narrowed as the drugged hippo lumbered closer. The lady struggled against the numbing effects of the drug, but darted with two milligrams of Etorphine, she fought a losing battle. That dosage should put her under and keep her under long enough for them to perform the needed dental procedure.

If they worked fast.

Miranda locked eyes with Estelle. Fury and hatred glared back. Betting on animosity to get Estelle over the harness, Miranda prayed the crane’s equipment had been well oiled. She didn’t relish becoming anyone’s chew toy.

“That’s right, sweetie,” Miranda crooned, working to keep that anger focused on her. “You’d love nothing more than to crunch my bones, wouldn’t you?”

Estelle stumbled nearer and Miranda took several steps back, leading her into the trap.

A snort of pure rage erupted from the drugged hippo and she shot forward, fired by a last ditch effort to escape the inevitable.

“Out of the pool, Miranda!” Jason yelled.

No need for the warning. Panic-laced adrenaline raced through Miranda, and she scrambled for the safety of high ground.

Estelle’s clumsy effort faded fast, however, lasting just long enough to get her where they needed her. The hippo stumbled over the net, Henri triggered the harness, and a sharp metallic clang rang out.

Canvas bolted up from the pool, spraying a tidal wave as it snapped around the hippo. Seconds later, Estelle hung a foot above the water, safely immobilized.

From the safety of the shore, Miranda’s muscles quivered in reaction and she sank onto the nearest boulder. Air wheezed out of her lungs, and she fought to calm her racing heart. This aspect of the job could be killer on the nerves.

Estelle bellowed pitifully, thrashing in helpless despair during the final few seconds before the drug claimed her. When she stilled, a collective sigh of relief went out.

It was also a call to action. The clock was ticking. Fueled by a second wind, Miranda jumped to her feet.

“Let’s move people,” she shouted. “Henri, swing her over to the padding on the rock platform. Jason, watch her landing closely. We don’t want compression to complicate matters. Make sure the lady is comfortable.”

She raced over to join Senga, Kiv, and the rest of the team by the mobile dental lab.

“Everything still sterilized?” she asked Senga as she dug into the medicine chest for the anesthesia antidote.

“Properly irradiated and sterile packaged,” he replied.

“Excellent.” She checked the long-needled syringe for air bubbles and laid it aside for after the procedure.

“Kiv”—she looked the young man square in the eye—“grab the wooden brace so we can prop Estelle’s mouth open. Don’t want any missing fingers should her jaws clamp shut.”

Uncertainty filled the young man’s eyes, and he shot a second glance at the unconscious hippo. Good. A little fear was healthy. Wild animals were unpredictable.

Estelle now reclined on her side atop the pad-covered rocks, her head on the low end to allow drainage. The lady was drooling.

Miranda and Jason pulled on their latex gloves, then worked together to position Estelle’s head to the best angle. Jason straddled the hippo’s neck, leaned over to grab her upper jaw, and lifted while Miranda positioned the brace in Estelle’s mouth.

She began the inspection immediately. “Infection is setting in around that left incisor,” she said as she reached for a pick. “This girl’s been in a lot of pain. No wonder she’s cranky.”

Jason knelt on the ground next to Estelle’s open jaws. “She’s in a bad way, doctor,” he lisped with his best mad scientist impression, rubbing his hands together. “But we can rebuild her, yes?”

The team members laughed outright, and Miranda shook her head with a smile.

“Yes, Igor,” she said. “But we have less than an hour. Let’s get busy!”