Read Red Earth Online

Authors: Tony Park

Red Earth (36 page)

As the bullets from Suzanne's pistol smashed through his body Banger kept firing, until both of them went down.

Chapter 38

One year later

Mike put his hand on his hat to stop it blowing off as Nia flared the nose of her latest acquisition, a new Gazelle helicopter, and set down in an open grassy area near the lodge on the game farm Bandile Dlamini had recently purchased.

Mike opened the rear side door of the helicopter and Lerato stepped out, looking beautiful in a white off-the-shoulder wedding dress.

Next out was her father's girlfriend, a glamorous Eyewitness News reporter who had met Bandile while interviewing him in the aftermath of last year's terrible events. In her arms she carried a coffee-coloured toddler who was giggling with excitement from the helicopter ride. Harrison Dlamini, formerly Hassan Farhat, was now the ward of the wealthy former politician, a half-brother of sorts to Lerato.

Bandile himself was smiling widely as he climbed down and shook Mike's hand. ‘So good to see you again, Michael, and in much better circumstances.'

‘Indeed,' Mike said. ‘You must be very proud.'

Bandile looked to Lerato. ‘In the eyes of our culture Lerato and Themba are too young to be getting married, but their courtship was anything but traditional. By the way my former employee, who was selling the vulture heads without my knowledge on the day we met at the Mona market, has just been sentenced to a year in prison.'

Mike nodded. ‘Could have been longer, but that's good news.'

‘I agree.'

Lerato came to Mike and he kissed her on the cheek and took her hand. ‘Good luck, Lerato.'

‘After what I've been through, this will be a walk in the park.'

Bandile led his daughter, partner and son to a waiting Land Rover game viewer, driven by one of his safari guides.

Mike went to Nia and hugged and kissed her.

She laughed. ‘Don't ruin my makeup, you know I hardly ever wear it.'

She took a step back from him and unzipped her one-piece black flight suit. The logo above the left pocket was the same as the one on the shiny new helicopter, that of the Endangered Species Organisation. ESO was a relatively new wildlife charity, set up in Australia some eleven months earlier. Nia's father was a board member.

Nia peeled off the flight suit and, with Mike holding one hand to steady her, stepped out of it. Underneath she was wearing a short, simple, sexy little black dress.

‘Like a female James Bond,' Mike said.

‘I've always wanted to do something like that,' she said, grinning. She reached into the helicopter and took out a pair of high heels.

He kissed her again. ‘I love you,' he said.

They went to a second Land Rover, which took off immediately. The idea was that Mike and Nia would join the other guests first and take their seats while the bridal party followed slowly behind.

Mike and Nia got down off the game viewer after the short drive over rough ground. Themba was standing at the front, by the celebrant, looking very sharp and serious in a black dinner suit. His sister, Nandi, was in the front row on the groom's side, smiling broadly. She had been released from the care of the foster family and now lived with Themba. He caught sight of Mike and Nia and waved.

They waved back and eased past some seated guests to take two vacant chairs. At the end of the row, with a beautiful blonde holding his walking stick, was Angus Greiner. He smiled at them and Nia nodded to him. ‘That's Banger's physical therapist,' Nia whispered to Mike. ‘His rehabilitation's taking a long time, but he doesn't seem to be complaining.'

Mike chuckled in reply.

‘Mike, Nia, how you doing?'

Mike turned at the sound of the American accent. Jed Banks was sitting behind them, wearing a blue blazer and khaki chinos.

‘Jed,' Mike said as they shook hands, ‘I didn't know you got an invite.'

‘I'm a spy, right, who needs an invite?' He grinned. ‘Seriously, I did get an invitation from the big man. We've talked a few times over the past year. You hear he might be running for politics again, on the other side this time?'

‘I did read that,' Mike said.

Jed leaned closer to Mike. ‘Official report's about to be released from Langley. The CIA's position is that Chris Mitchell and Franklin Washington were killed while trying to apprehend a wanted terrorist, Suzanne Fessey.'

‘Official cover up, by the sound of it,' Mike said.

‘It doesn't sit well with me, either,' Jed said.

‘Was Suzanne ever really working for the CIA?' Mike asked.

Jed shrugged. ‘The operation to stop the extremists getting a suitcase nuke was sanctioned. Franklin turned her, but at some point for the three of them, Franklin, Chris and Suzanne, it became all about the money. Chris had worked in Syria as well, prior to taking over in Africa. The word behind the scenes is that Chris had a gambling problem and big debts he was able to hide from the Company. Suzanne and Franklin were made for each other. Franklin's psych evaluations showed he was screwed up by the Middle East and some of the things he'd done there while undercover. They probably never intended to share the money with Chris. Phone records showed that Franklin was feeding information to Suzanne all the way through the chase, which is how she managed to stay a step ahead. She was going to use Paulsen and his guys to get her out of South Africa, but she was always going to waste all of them at some point to cover her tracks from the bad guys.'

‘We thought the police or the CIA were tracing our phones,' Mike said.

Jed shook his head. ‘Say, Nia, I guess you never remembered what happened to all that money, did you?'

Nia smiled. ‘Like I said, Jed, the account was empty.'

Jed raised his eyebrows. ‘Not like the piggy bank of the Endangered Species Organisation. They've been busy in this part of the world lately. A new helicopter for the company you're now a partner in; a university scholarship with all fees and accommodation covered for Themba and twenty other local kids who want to study environmental-related subjects.'

‘They're a very generous organisation,' Mike said.

‘Very,' Jed agreed. ‘Even set you up with a vulture and birds of prey rehabilitation and education centre near Hluhluwe. You enjoying being the boss there?'

Mike adjusted his hat. ‘Well, I do miss all the field work, but we're doing good work in the reserves and, more importantly, in the local schools and communities, educating people. That all costs money, and I have to keep an eye on the books.'

‘I bet. I've been doing some more asking around and I see that your colleague, John Buttenshaw, Nia, has all the special care and wheelchair modifications that he needed for his home after being filled full of lead and left for dead by Suzanne and co.'

‘What are you getting at, Jed?' Nia asked.

‘Oh, nothing. We could have used that money for good, too, you know.'

‘What's better, do you think, fighting wars or protecting the environment for the kids of tomorrow?' Nia asked.

‘Well, as a father of two I think you can guess my answer. I just wanted to let you two know it's all over. You won't hear from me again.'

Mike reached out a hand again and Jed took it. ‘Thanks, but we'll stay in touch, Jed. I need to send you an invitation to another wedding soon.'

Jed looked to Nia, who beamed back at him.

Mike stood, along with the rest of the guests. ‘Here comes the bride.'

He looked up at the clear blue sky and far off he picked out the telltale swirl of specks. Inqe. It was a good sign.

Acknowledgements

With so many wildlife species in peril it's easy to overlook some of the smaller and less glamorous creatures (at least in some people's eyes) that are staring down the barrel of extinction.

I'm especially grateful to real-life ‘vulture man' Andre Botha, manager of South Africa's Endangered Wildlife Trust Birds of Prey Programme, for suggesting I write a book which touched on the plight of vultures. The senseless killing of these magnificent birds, as described in this book, is happening now. It's a tragedy not just for the birds themselves, but for the wider natural environment which depends on them to keep the landscape healthy and habitable. Andre assisted with my early research and read and corrected the finished manuscript.

As always I'm indebted to many people who gave their time and knowledge to help me with researching and reviewing this story. I'll try not to forget anyone.

Annelien Oberholzer did an excellent job yet again of correcting not only my Afrikaans and other South Africanisms, but also several other errors. Sydney psychotherapist Charlotte Stapf provided valuable feedback on the motivations of my characters and other aspects of the story. I'm grateful to former South African Defence Force sniper Fritz Rabe for his help with firearms matters; to Mike Reid for his time and his comments on helicopter flying; and Mike Furner and Tyler van der Merwe from JNC Helicopters, Virginia Airport, Durban, for information on car tracking.

My friends Peter and Alison Nairn showed me the sights of Durban several times; Warrant Officer Bobby Freeman, Regimental Sergeant Major of the Natal Mounted Rifles, gave me a tour of the regiment's impressive base (and even more impressive mess); Tema Matsebula provided valuable feedback on the manuscript; and Section Ranger Dennis Kelly from Hluhluwe–iMfolozi Park answered my many questions about poaching and the trade in illegal wildlife products. Thank you, all.

As with many of my previous books I've handed over the surprisingly tricky job of thinking up character names to a number of worthy charities and causes. The following people made donations to have names assigned to the cast of
Red Earth
: Mike Dunn, Chris Mitchell, Nicholas Duncan (on behalf of Nia Carras) and Suzanne Fessey, contributed to Painted Dog Conservation Inc.; Annie Nolan (on behalf of Boyd Qualtrough), and Yvonne Buttenshaw (on behalf of John Buttenshaw) donated to Breaking the Brand (an Australian NGO focusing on the reduction of demand for rhino horn in Vietnam); and my former boss, Nick Greiner AM (on behalf of his grandson Angus ‘Banger' Greiner), and Lisa Paulsen (on behalf of Egil Paulsen and Tracy Zietsch) made donations to causes close to their hearts. Jordan and Tim Penquitt are the sons of my friend Roger, who kept my morale up when we both served in Afghanistan.

Thirteen novels on my wonderful team of unpaid editors – my wife Nicola, mother Kathy, and mother-in-law Sheila – once again did an excellent job helping me to iron out timelines, correct inconsistencies and improve my characters. Thanks, too, to my other ‘family' at Pan Macmillan Australia – Publishing Director Cate Paterson, Production Editor Danielle Walker, and copy editor Brianne Collins for their hard work, wise counsel, and their faith in me. Thanks, too, go to my agent, Isobel Dixon, and Pan Macmillan's affiliates in the United Kingdom and South Africa. I'm grateful to all of you for helping me live my dream.

I often use social media, not just to waste time, but to kick around ideas and get feedback from readers and friends. If you'd care to look for me on Facebook or Twitter you can find me as Tony Park Author, or via my website, www.tonypark.net. I'd love to hear from you.

Lastly, if you're still reading this, thank you. I couldn't do this without you.

About Tony Park

Tony Park was born in 1964 and grew up in the western suburbs of Sydney. He has worked as a reporter, a press secretary, a PR consultant and a freelance writer. He is also a major in the Australian Army Reserve and served as a public affairs officer in Afghanistan in 2002. He and his wife, Nicola, divide their time equally between Australia and southern Africa. He is the author of twelve other novels.

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War Dogs,
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