Bodyguard: Ambush (Book 3) (32 page)

Connor rubbed his dirt-stained face between
his hands and sighed wearily. ‘I realize you want to do everything you can to save
your brother. I’m as desperate as you to get him back safe and sound. But I
can’t have you risking your life in a suicide mission. I honestly think our best
plan is to return to the lodge and call for back-up.’

‘And how long will that take? A day?
Two days? Maybe more in this godforsaken country. We don’t have that time to
waste. Every minute counts. Who knows what they’re doing to my brother?
Henri’s life could be in the balance.’

‘And so is yours,’ stated
Connor, feeling himself torn between rescuing Henri and keeping Amber out of danger. His
head told him one thing; his heart, the other. In the end, reason won out.
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go. It’s too much of a
risk.’

Amber looked at him, her eyes blazing.
‘I lost Henri
once. I won’t lose
him again. He’s the only family I have left. I
have
to save my
brother.’ She stabbed a finger at him. ‘
You
have to save my
brother. You’re supposed to be his bodyguard, aren’t you?’

‘I’m your bodyguard too,’
he reminded her. ‘I have a duty to keep you
both
safe from
harm.’

Amber stood and crossed her arms defiantly.
‘Well then, you’ll have to protect me rescuing my brother. Because I’m
going, with or without you!’

‘Your parents are dead!’ Blaze
shouted as he struck Henri with a long, thin bamboo cane.
Whack!

Henri fell to the rocky ground, crying out
in agonized shock as a large red welt flared across his upper arm.

‘Your parents were weak. They failed
to protect you.’
Whack!

Tears burst from Henri’s eyes as the
cane whipped across his back, the pain so intense that he couldn’t even cry
out.

‘Your sister ran away.’
Whack!

Henri instinctively curled into the foetal
position, his hands over his head, as more blows rained down.

‘Did you hear me? She failed to
protect you too.’

Whack! Whack!

‘Now she’s dead. So is her
boyfriend. And you’re all alone.’

No Mercy watched impassively as Blaze beat
the white boy. He recalled his own initiation ritual beginning in a similar way. Having
been abducted from his village, he was beaten day and night until his body and spirit
were broken down to nothing. Poisonous words were whispered
in his ear to convince him of his family’s treachery
and abandonment before their deaths at the hands of a rival rebel group. Then the Black
Mamba had come to him, offering salvation and relief from the constant physical and
mental abuse. At that point, lost in a world of pain and grief, he’d been willing
to do anything to make the unbearable suffering stop.
Anything
. Even kill a man
with his bare hands. That’s when he was reborn, piece by piece, killing by
killing. The Black Mamba rebuilt him into a warrior, a soldier of God. Gave him a new
name. His past no longer relevant. He existed purely to fight and die as if there were
no tomorrow.

Blaze ceased his brutal punishment of the
boy.

Wheezing and sobbing, Henri lay trembling on
the rocks, a splatter of his blood smeared across their surface. Kneeling down, Blaze
ran a hand gently through the boy’s red hair.

‘But we can protect you,’ he
said softly in the boy’s ear. ‘We can make you strong. But first you must
prove yourself. Earn our respect. Become worthy of the name Red Devil.’

The sound of an approaching jeep caused
Blaze and No Mercy to look up.

General Pascal had returned from the lodge,
bringing with him the Grey Man, as they now all called him.

‘Put the boy to work with the
others,’ ordered Blaze, handing No Mercy the bamboo cane. ‘And beat him if
he slows or stops.’

Nodding, No Mercy dragged Henri to his feet
and
half-carried him over to where the
enslaved workers were digging up and panning the riverbed. Blaze strode across the river
to greet the general, saluting him as he stepped out of the jeep with the Grey Man.

‘Welcome, Mr Grey, to Diamond
Valley,’ declared General Pascal with a majestic sweep of his arm at the hidden
gorge being stripped back and plundered. ‘That’s what I call it anyway. This
place is so rich with minerals that at night the ground sparkles as if the stars had
fallen from the sky.’

‘Very poetic,’ replied Mr Grey
flatly, without any real sign of appreciation. His almost colourless eyes were trained
on No Mercy, handing a battered bucket to a bleeding and sobbing child.
‘Who’s the white boy?’ he asked.

‘Some foreign ambassador’s
son.’ The general laughed as he waved his hand dismissively. ‘White men are
always taking from our country. It’s time for them to pay the price.’

‘You could ransom him,’
suggested Mr Grey. ‘He’d have value.’

‘Why? I’ve all the riches I need
here,’ retorted the general.

Ordering Blaze to bring over the lock-box
from his tent, he opened the lid and spread out a collection of rough diamonds on the
bonnet of the jeep. ‘Now let’s do business, Mr Grey. Take your pick. I want
to have the best-equipped army in Africa.’

Striking camp, Connor, Amber and Zuzu set
forth across the plain. Zuzu walked ahead, her bare feet noiseless on the red earth. Her
body small and slender like a gazelle’s, she wore a mottled-brown wrap-around
sarong, with a simple shawl slung over her left shoulder. In her right hand she carried
a wooden bow and several black-tipped arrows. Aside from a gourd containing water, a
fire-lighting stick and a small knife, she possessed little else.

Connor was amazed that she could survive in
such a wild place with no supplies. When he’d asked her about this through Amber,
she’d replied that the land provided all she needed to live. And, as if to prove
her point, she’d plucked some small orange berries from a nearby bush and popped
them in her mouth before offering some to them. The fruits were bitter-sweet, but a
great deal more palatable than the ‘sausage’ Connor had consumed for their
bush breakfast.

Earlier that morning, as he’d wrestled
over the dilemma of whether to let Amber attempt to rescue her brother or not, Zuzu had
handed him one of the plump white blobs cooking on the open fire and he’d bitten
into it with barely
a second thought. He
soon discovered that the ‘sausage’ had a strange fluid consistency and
tasted a bit like a nutty mushroom, but rather less pleasant. Zuzu had looked on
encouragingly as he chewed. Then Amber had taken great pleasure in informing him that he
was eating fried rhino-beetle larva! He’d almost gagged but managed to keep the
smile on his face for Zuzu’s benefit, reminding himself that the larva was a bush
delicacy. But, rather than subject himself to a second helping, he’d hurriedly
agreed to Amber’s change of plan. Besides, he’d realized that he
couldn’t carry his Principal kicking and screaming all the way back to the lodge.
Nor could he leave her to walk alone and unprotected into a kill zone. And, the most
persuasive reason of all, how could he live with himself if, as his bodyguard, he
abandoned Henri to his fate?

Yet as they followed Zuzu through the
stiflingly hot bush, Connor began to question the wisdom of his decision. Lacking
Zuzu’s intimate knowledge of bushcraft and now possessing only his father’s
knife – the night-vision sunglasses having been crushed beyond repair during the leopard
attack – he felt woefully under-prepared for the ordeal ahead. It seemed as if they were
about to enter the lion’s den with little more than a toothpick for protection.
Moreover, he couldn’t believe they were putting their lives into the hands of a
complete stranger again. They’d done that once with the Wolf and almost paid the
price.

Connor quietly drew up beside Amber.
‘Are you sure we can trust our guide?’ he whispered, avoiding using
Zuzu’s name in case she realized he was talking about her.

‘Why
not?’ said Amber, surprised by the question.

‘For all we know, she could be leading
us into a trap. Maybe hoping for payment from the rebels for finding us.’

Amber frowned at Connor. ‘I
can’t believe
everyone
in this country is corrupt. She saved our lives,
remember? In fact, she tried to dissuade me from going to Dead Man’s Hill in the
first place, saying it’s cursed by evil spirits and is where that leopard
lives.’

‘Now you tell me!’ said Connor,
feeling somewhat duped into agreeing to their crazy rescue mission.

Amber kept talking as if she hadn’t
heard him. ‘But I told her how much my brother meant to me and she understood,
having lost a brother herself.’

‘Even so, we know nothing about
her,’ Connor argued, keeping his voice low.

‘I do,’ replied Amber.
‘While you were out cold, we talked a lot.’

Zuzu glanced over her shoulder to check they
were still keeping up. Her smile was bright and innocent and Connor couldn’t
detect any trace of deception in her eyes. He felt a touch guilty at talking behind her
back, but it was a bodyguard’s job to be suspicious – at least until the person in
question proved worthy of trust.

‘It’s a really sad story,’
Amber explained. ‘Remember I told you that Zuzu’s from one of the local
Batwa tribes. Well, the government forced them out of their ancestral lands to create
this national park. Minister Feruzi was lying when he said that the Batwa had been given
lovely new homes, schools and freshwater wells. The tribes were
lucky to get a well, let alone housing. Most were given no
land and left to fend for themselves. Zuzu tells me only a few Batwa men were offered
work in the park, despite their knowledge of the bush, so many have had to resort to
begging or manual labour just to survive. Zuzu and her family are essentially
conservation refugees!’

‘So how come she’s in the park
if it’s a restricted area?’ questioned Connor.

‘Hunting for food,’ replied
Amber. ‘The Batwa are traditionally hunter-gatherers. Since her father died, his
heart broken by the loss of both his son and homeland, it’s fallen to Zuzu to
provide for the entire family. But the government’s outlawed all forms of
game-hunting. So, if she’s caught, she’ll be arrested as a poacher and then
she doesn’t know how they’ll survi–’

Up ahead Zuzu suddenly became still as a
rock, her hand held up in warning for them to be silent. Connor’s eyes immediately
scanned their surroundings, searching for the threat. With infinite care Zuzu nocked an
arrow and took aim at something hidden among the brush. Connor’s hand went to his
knife. The savannah around them grew deadly quiet, as if sensing the danger in their
vicinity. Connor felt his pulse quicken and drew Amber closer, ready to protect her from
whatever predator appeared.

All of a sudden Zuzu let loose her arrow and
disappeared into the long grass. Connor only caught a glimpse of her lithe body as she
silently dashed through the brush. Grabbing Amber’s hand, he pursued their guide,
not
wanting to let her out of his sight.
They caught up with her in a small clearing, kneeling beside a dying dik-dik.

It dawned on Connor that
Zuzu
had
been the predator the savannah had gone silent for.

Plucking her arrow from the tiny
antelope’s chest and putting it aside, she laid her hands on the animal and softly
uttered what sounded to Connor like a blessing. Then Zuzu glanced up and spoke to
Amber.

‘The Batwa take what they can, but
only what they need,’ Amber translated for Connor.

As Zuzu bound the little antelope’s
hooves together, Connor went to help by picking up the discarded arrow. But Zuzu quickly
said, ‘
Ne touchez pas! C’est toxique!
’

‘Stop!’ Amber warned. ‘The
tip’s poisonous.’

Connor nodded, leaving the deadly arrow
where it lay. ‘Yeah, I got the gist.’

Zuzu slung the dead antelope over her
shoulder. ‘
A manger
,’ she said with a smile before picking up her
bow and arrows and continuing along their previous trail.