The Somali Deception Episode I (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) (8 page)

Alastair was the one to finally
ease the afternoon, before a fall of silence could imminently take hold of the
table.
 
Terry, a tall Maasai in the
shirtless garb of the local Laikipiak people came on to the veranda to clear
the last of the platters.
 
Only
Alastair took note of Terry’s soft glance away from the table.

“What is it Terry?” asked
Alastair.

In his nonchalant way Terry
answered, “She’s back.”

Alastair stood from his chair
and then peered hard out past the acacia trees at the far end of the cottage.

“Oh you fellas will love this,”
said Alastair.
 
From inside the
French doors he grabbed a pair of binoculars from the side table, and then
headed to the edge of the deck.
 
The
other three remained in their seats.

“Well c’mon then,” said Alastair
to the other three, already scanning the acacias with his binoculars.

Cameron and Pepe joined Alastair
by his side.
 
Ari stayed behind
them.
 
Alastair fixed the binoculars
on a point past the last tree then handed the glasses to Pepe.

“What do ya think?” asked
Alastair.

“She’s beautiful,” said Pepe,
and then shared the binoculars with Cameron.

Lurking slowly through the brush
beneath the tree was a leopard.

“What is she doing out this
early?” asked Cameron.

“She is moving closer to where
she will want to hunt tonight.
 
Now
she will rest,” said Alastair.

“We should do the same,” said
Pepe.
 
“In a short time we must go.”

* * *
* *

Laikipia Plateau

Alastair leaned forward to scan
the inky darkness.

“We’re close now,” said
Alastair.

“And there it is,” said Ari.

To the southwest of their
position, Cameron saw the spent phosphorus cartridge of a flare-gun arc, and
then burst high in the air.
 
Ari
piloted the helicopter toward where the flare had ignited.
 
As they approached, first one, two, then
three bright green fluorescent dots appeared below, forming a triangle.
 
Ari landed the helicopter in the middle
of the makeshift landing zone.

“I’m going to power down to save
fuel,” said Ari, flipping a series of switches that cut power to the rotors.

“Most pilots like hot action,”
said Cameron.
 
“To keep the
equipment running for efficiency.”

“I told you,” said Ari, “This is
an AS 350.
 
This little squirrel
will start cold every time.”

The last few interior lights
flicked off and the cabin flooded with the green glow of the fluorescent signal
sticks that surrounded the helicopter.
 
Cameron unplugged the headset from the jack above and slipped the Bose
from his head.
 
He opened his mouth
and worked his jaw side to side to ease the pressure on his ears.

“Let’s hit it,” said Alastair,
disappearing from his seat into the night.
 
Abruptly he stuck his head back into the copter.
 
“Oh, careful of the wait-a-bit trees.”

“Wait-a-bit trees?” asked Pepe.

“Acacia with thorns like cats
claws.
 
They grab you then you have
to wait-a-bit to get free.”

“Ah.”

Alastair then again pulled his
head free into the night.

The other three men also exited
the copter.
 
The darkness
surrounding the makeshift-landing zone chirped to an incessant beat.

“All alone in the wild,” said
Pepe.

“I assure you, we’re far from
alone,” said Alastair.
 
“If you had
your infrared specs on you would see we’re standing in the middle of a crowd.”

On cue, a hyena cackled in the
night.
 
Then, in front of the
copter, at the edge of the landing zone, a flashlight switched on.
 
Alastair held his hand up over his eyes.

“Christ mate, watch it with the torch.”

The beam lowered.

“Sorry about that,” a deep voice
said from behind the light.
 
“This
way.”
 
The accent was Dutch.
 
The man was Afrikaan.

 
“Just a minute boys,” said Alastair.
 
He and Ari each switched on their own
flashlights.
 
“Here’s a torch for
each of you,” said Alastair.
 
Under
his beam, he held two mini Maglites.

Cameron and Pepe took the
Maglites, twisted them on, then all four men walked toward the deep voiced man.

Cameron had initially thought
the deep voiced man was holding his light at his shoulder.
 
Then Cameron stepped behind the
giant.
 
Cameron briefly shined his
beam the length of the man.
 
In the
dark, Cameron could not gauge the true height of the man.

Pepe whispered into Cameron’s
ear, “Two meters, and maybe five-centimeters.”

“Close,” said the deep
voice.
 
“Two meters,
ten-centimeters.”

“That’s Dakarai,” said Alastair,
“we call him Charlie.”

Without turning back, the deep
voice said, “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you,” said Pepe.

Away from the green
fluorescence, their eyes adjusted quickly.
 
The beam of Dakarai’s light ahead, cut with his tree high silhouette,
rendered their beams unnecessary.
 
The chatter of the wild heightened and lowered as they made their way
through the black.
 
A bright
celestial blanket, pulled taut to the horizons, surrounded them.
 
The distant mountains tore into the
stars, and every few steps, branches of the wait-a-bits rose from the brush
cutting into the night sky.

Ten minutes from where Ari
landed the helicopter the group entered a flattened circle of gravel that
somewhat glowed against the night.
 
Even in the darkness the area appeared to be a landscaped oasis in the
middle of the bush, clear with the exception of two small dark structures on
opposing sides of the clearing, silent sentinels, not quite the size of proper
toolsheds, each barely larger than a phone booth.
 
Dakarai led them to the dark pillar to
their right.
 
The terrain of the
gravel crunched differently than the sandy red soil they had been hiking
through.
 
Not until Dakarai cracked
the door did Cameron first hear the tinny resonation of electric guitar
riffs.
 
The sound came from a bowel
too deep for so small of a structure.
 
The weathered wooden door opened to a small room that revealed the lemon
lit outline of a second door.
 
Cameron thought of the TARDIS, a machine that carried Doctor Who, the
television time lord, through time and space.
 
A machine that looked like a small phone
booth on the outside yet was paradoxically infinitely larger within.

Cameron realized where they were
going and was assured when Dakarai opened the second door to reveal a shielded
room no larger than a broom closet.
 
Illuminating the space was a clear glass bulb, dangling from the top of
the closet at the end of a rugged insulated wire.
 
The dim filament burned lemon.
 
The wire was staple tacked to the back
wall leading down to another bulb, and then another, below the floor where they
stood, deep into the ground.

Not dissimilar than the TARDIS
machine that the television time lord Doctor Who traveled in, the outside of
the small building was a deception as to what existed within, or more precise
below.
 
The small structure on the
surface was misleading to the size of what space was hiding beneath.

Dakarai took hold of the rungs
of a metal ladder fastened to the left sidewall of the closet then swung
inside.
 
“Close the doors on the way
down,” he said, glanced down at his feet, and then dropped out of sight.

“Really,” said Pepe.

“You are going to love this,”
said Alastair.
 
“Go ahead.”

“You’re going to love this,” said
Pepe, his face scrunched.
 
“You use
that phrase too often I think.”
 
Then in a lower voice, “Qui est telle connerie.”

Pepe took hold of the rung and
leaned over the shaft.
 
Below he saw
Dakarai still sliding several meters below.
 
Pepe lifted his head, “Oh.”

“Do it,” said Alastair.

Cameron slapped Pepe on the
back, “You weigh enough,
you’ll
drop fast.”

“So funny you two.
 
See you in a moment,” said Pepe and then
he too swung himself onto the ladder rung and let himself disappear to the
depths below.

Cameron and the others followed
Pepe down the shaft that led to a large music filled tunnel space meters below
the surface.
 
More of the insulated
wire was strung in a wide mesh across the naked rock ceiling and walls of the
tunnel.
 
Rows of tables, workstations
setup at many of them, filled the center of the cave.
 
On the far side of the space, next to a
freight lift that led up to the other structure in the clearing above, were
uniformly stacked pallets of crates.

The music was coming from a
console system to their right, setup in a small makeshift entertainment enclave
that included leather chairs, a sofa, and a large flat panel that was silently
screening a zombie movie.
 
The
images on the screen oddly aligned with the rough electric guitar blaring out
of the oddly out of place tall pyramid speakers.
 
To their left was a kitchenette with a
microwave, mini-fridge, portable range, and espresso machine.
 
The back of the tunnel narrowed to a
passage that led further into the earth.

At one of the tables, a man with
thick magnifier goggles was hunched under an engineer desk lamp, the variety
with several joints and springs for precise managed maneuverability.
 
The goggled man was working meticulously
on a clamped electronic device.
 
Another man in a safari vest was hovering closely above the first,
inspecting the work.
 
Dakarai was at
the kitchenette pouring water from a bottle fountain.
 
An air bubble traveled up through the bottle
producing a loud glug.
 
The hovering
man raised his head toward Dakarai, still almost cheek to cheek with the man
working beside him.

“Oh, good.
 
You’re back,” the man in the safari vest
barked, a breath from the ear of the other.

“Really,” said the goggled man,
he jabbed his elbows up to his sides.

“Sorry,” scowled safari as he
eased back from the table.
 
He then
turned his attention to the group at the entrance, “You made it from the
States.
 
You must be exhausted.
 
How about a little pick up, eh?
 
Arabica, grown local.”
 
Safari gestured to the espresso machine
then began to move toward the kitchenette.

“Cameron, Pepe,” said Alastair,
“this is Isaac and at the table is Ezekiel.”

“Pleasure,” said Isaac, “and he
likes to be called ‘Eazy’.
 
Being so
relaxed and all.”

Eazy again raised his hands from
his work, this time to acknowledge the group.
 
Without removing his magnified goggles
he spoke, “Hello, sorry.
 
The
pleasure is mine Pepe and ... uh.”

“Cameron,” said Cameron, “a
pleasure,”

“I’m sure,” said Eazy, already
back to his work.

“Excuse him.
 
He went ahead and armed that thing and
now the timer is not functioning the way he wants,” said Isaac.

“That device is armed?” asked
Pepe.
 
He craned his neck to see if
he could identify what Eazy was working on.

“I told him the thing was not
ready, he went ahead and armed it.”

“I unarmed it,” said Eazy,
intently focused on the small screwdriver and pliers in his hand.

Isaac raised his voice, “I was
standing right next to you.
 
You did
not unarm it.”

“There, the timer is fixed and I
did too unarm it.
 
See right here,”
said Eazy, and then he paused and leaned in, “you are right.
 
The thing is armed.”

“I told you I was standing next
to you.”

“Yes, here we go.
 
I forgot I had to rearm the device in
order to disengage and then reengage the timer.
 
All better now.”