Simon captured images of the men and their grisly profit. The binoculars came fully equipped with a surprising array of software.
Okay then, you vicious cutthroats, you’re going to pay for what you did here.
During the last sixteen months, Simon had gotten to know the Cape Town police and the gamekeepers that worked in the Fynbos Biome. The area was protected by international law.
Someone will know you.
Simon captured a few more images, then watched in silence as the corpses were stripped of their tusks. The radio vibrated in his pocket.
Leaning back, Simon shook the earpiece out and shoved it into his ear. “Yes.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” Saundra sounded worried. “I heard that final shot—”
“Wasn’t me.” Simon quickly explained what had gone on.
Saundra cursed when he’d finished. “We can’t let them get away with this.”
She had very strong feelings about preserving wildlife. As a result, they’d never guided hunters while working together. She knew that Simon did, when the price was right and the interest was there, but they never talked about that.
“I’ve got pictures of them. They won’t get away with it.”
The circling vultures dropped from the sky and alighted on the carcasses. Their hooked beaks and cruel talons tore into the elephant flesh.
“What are you going to do?” Saundra asked.
“Wait here. Watch them. Make sure they don’t come your way. Get our tourists out of harm’s way. I’ll catch up to you quick as I can.”
“All right.”
Simon took his earpiece out and dropped it back into the radio. He pocketed the radio and pressed the Velcro tab closed on his thigh pocket.
Almost twenty minutes passed. The poachers worked quickly. So did the vultures.
Simon knew the blood scent would draw other predators. It always did. But he didn’t expect the Cape buffalo that came up to the scene and stood in the scrubland on the other side of the kill site.
The buffalo was huge and black, with the wide, curving horns of its kind. This one looked near to six feet at the shoulder and weighing more than a ton. The face was massive, all bone and muscle. Most of the gamekeepers Simon knew regarded Cape buffalos as the most dangerous animals in the region. A single lion couldn’t bring a Cape buffalo down, and it took a pack of hyenas to do the job.
Since it was alone, Simon guessed that it was a “bachelor.” Older bulls were usually cut out of the herds by the younger bulls. People every year died on the horns or under the hooves of Cape buffaloes. They died hard, and most of them didn’t die alone.
The poachers noticed the Cape buffalo, too. They pointed at the animal. The older men in the group got more wary. Even a Land Rover wasn’t always the best protection out in the open. Cape buffaloes were quite capable of overturning vehicles.
One of the younger men brought his rifle to shoulder.
An older man shouted, “No!” but that happened at the same time the younger man fired.
The first bullet caught the Cape buffalo between the horns, knocking a chunk of hide flying. The buffalo staggered, throwing its head back. As a result, the second and third bullets hit the animal in the chest.
With an angry bellow, the buffalo broke cover and charged the poachers. Simon watched, hoping the buffalo would get them all.
The poachers scattered. The more seasoned among them ran to the elephants’ bodies for refuge. The dead elephants were bigger and heavier than the Land Rovers.
Never breaking stride, the Cape buffalo slammed into the side of the lead Land Rover. The impact echoed under the acacia tree where Simon sat. Incredibly, the Land Rover came up on two wheels and rolled over onto its side with a crunch.
Still in motion, the animal sped into the trees and tall shrubs. It disappeared almost immediately. The young poacher got his nerve back and tried two more shots that Simon doubted hit anything.
The older poacher crossed to the younger one, grabbed the rifle barrel, and backhanded the other man to the ground. Then he turned the rifle on the younger man, who threw his hands up in front of him and tried to scoot away on his back. For a moment Simon thought the man was going to kill the younger man.
“That was stupid.” The older poacher lowered the rifle, then finally tossed it onto the younger man. “Do something like that again, and I’ll kill you.” He turned and walked away.
Simon settled back into the shadows. The radio vibrated in his pocket and he took it out. “Still not me, love,” he whispered, then explained what had happened. “Are you out of camp?”
“Yes. About two miles west. We’re headed for the coast. I think the tour’s over. At least for the moment.” Saundra didn’t sound happy about that. She hated being stuck in Cape Town with nothing to do. She couldn’t make money in town.
“There are a few campsites we’ll have to visit between here and there,” Simon pointed out. “Maybe we’ll convince them that making an early retreat isn’t what they really want to do.” Personally, he didn’t care. He enjoyed Cape Town. At least it wasn’t London. And he didn’t have to hear any talk about demons.
But it meant being around Saundra when she wasn’t happy. That wasn’t a pleasant prospect.
“I don’t want to go back,” Saundra said.
“I know. Something will come up.” Simon sighed, watched as the poachers gathered by the overturned vehicle and pushed it upright once more. “In the meantime, I’m going to be a little late.”
“Why?”
“Got to track down that buffalo bull. Can’t let it wander around out here to hurt someone. And it shouldn’t be left to linger and die of infection.” Simon listened to Saundra breathing over the radio connection. He
