LITMIR.BIZ

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the words. “There is seasonal migration of wildlife into and out of Nairobi National Park, even as it exists on the edge of Nairobi. Fences surround the park to the north, west, and east, but not to the south. Not entirely. But Maasai lands, and even more so, the private ranches owned by individuals and land brokers, and corporations intending to cash in on appreciating land prices due to population increases . . . these are strangling the migration corridors. If we do not do something now, or soon, the migration corridors will be gone. The beauty and rhythms of nature subdued. The park will become little more than a zoo.”

      Jack nodded, watching the road, noticing traffic becoming lighter as Samuel skirted what seemed a different part of the city. Industrial. Large buildings alongside a rail line. “Where are we going, and who am I working with?”

      “We are going to the south of the park, where we have a ranger outpost for you to stay. And it is me with whom you’ll be working.”

      “Are you a scientist?”

      “I am not a scientist. I am ranger, a warden.”

      “Who also happens to be investigating two murders.”

      “Do not concern yourself with that,” Samuel said, steering into a roundabout, taking the third turn. “Teach me to do Gabriel Kagunda’s research, and I will assure that it continues.”

      Jack studied him a moment. “Did you know him well? Did you know either of them?”

      “Very well. The other ranger—David Ole Nalangu—had been under my command for many years. He was Maasai, a good man, a good ranger.”

      “I’m sorry for your loss.”

      “Thank you.” Samuel raised a hand to his beret in salute. “And thank you for coming. Do you know why your government sent only one?”

      “Is that a problem?”

      “Maybe just as well.”

      “Why?’

      “It might make things easier. I wasn’t exactly following protocol.”

      “Interesting. Care to share?”

      Samuel chose not to answer.

      “Sorry. None of my business.”

      The cityscape became something less, yielding to a fence and an entrance sign. East Gate, Nairobi National Park.

      Within minutes of driving past a cluster of buildings, they were on open expanses, a moonlit picture of Africa. Looking back, lights of the city. Looking forward, grassland, scattered fever trees and acacia. After several turns and road junctions, they came to an encampment. A cluster of small buildings. Samuel steered through, stopping at a solitary building, small and unmarked. He killed the engine and climbed out. Jack followed him in.

      The house held a small, functional kitchen, and a room with a desk and what was little more than an army cot. Jack dropped his duffle on the bed.

      “Will this be adequate?” Samuel asked.

      “It’ll do fine.”

      “If not, we can try again to find a room in Nairobi, or at one of the lodges or safari camps. I was not expecting such a rapid response from your government.”

      Jack laughed. “Impressive, wasn’t it? Doesn’t happen very often, I promise.” He looked around the quarters. “This will work.”

      “I’ve stocked the kitchen, but maybe not adequately.”

      “I’m sure it’s fine. What do you people eat?”

      “Less meat than Americans. Some of us like curries.”

      “Love curries, I think. Coffee?”

      “In the pantry. Tomorrow I’ll take you to get supplies to your liking.”

      “I’m sure what you’ve gotten is fine. Experience the local cuisine, I always say. So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

      “We begin.” Samuel pointed at the desk. “I assume you’ll want to read Gabriel Kagunda’s research plan. It is there, in the top drawer. You will find the key in the kitchen cupboard nearest the stove. I will permit you to read, then I will pick you up here at ten.”

      “Oh, I forgot. I promised my director this would be a headquarters exercise. Training. No going into the field.”

      Leboo stared at him a moment. “I assume you’ll want to see what the national park has to offer?”

      “Very much so, yes.”

      “Good. Two things, Mr. Jack. First, I can easily make my headquarters a mobile one. Second, do you always follow orders?”

      Chapter

      9

      Jack woke at sunrise, made his way to the kitchen and figured out the stove. After making a pot of coffee, he slipped on cargo pants, took his first cup to the porch, and sipped staring out over the savanna.

      Scattered fever trees, tall and wispy, floated above the grasslands, their canopies seemingly held in check by the sky. Birdlife welcomed the morning. Chatters and songs rose from acacia surrounding the enclave.

      He went for a second cup, and when finished, forced himself to go inside. No more time to enjoy this. Need to wrap it up and get home, before the coalition falls apart.

      First things first. Email.

      He pulled out his laptop and hurried to draft a message to Karen Hatcher and Kip Culberson, with the latest version of the coalition’s report to Congress, and changes he’d made on the flight from Washington. After attaching the document, he noticed no signal for wireless. Seriously? He checked the outpost for phone lines. Nothing. No place to plug in a modem.

      He dug his phone from the top pocket of his day pack and turned it on. Signal, fair. But who the hell is the carrier, and what’s this gonna cost? He checked email. Nothing new. Not since yesterday. No data transfer. Electronically, stranded. He noticed the charge on the battery—nearly dead—and glanced at the nearest electrical outlet. No way the charger’s gonna fit that thing. Not without a converter.

      The emails aren’t going anywhere. Not now. It’s the middle of the night in the states. A few hours won’t hurt.

      He turned off the devices and put them away, then sauntered into the kitchen, poured another cup of coffee, and opened the cupboard to look for the key to the desk. He found it under a bag of rice.

      He opened the desk and found the research plan alone in a drawer.

      The plan was thorough, and, as Samuel said, multi-faceted. Gabriel Kagunda had all the hallmarks of a good scientist. His sampling protocol and statistical design were well defined and likely had been well before he ever went into the field. Nothing reeked of pre-determined conclusion, but his work would help them understand how the ecosystem worked, and serve as a basis for decisions and monitoring conditions over time.

      His initial phase of work focused on grass and browse species for rhino, zebra, gazelle, wildebeest, and giraffe. He also intended to look at those same plant species in areas used during seasonal migration, and for what would be prime and sub-prime years, for habitat utilized in and outside the national park, for wet and dry seasons. His purpose appeared to be that of defining the values—the plant species and their distributions, the water sources and connectivity factors—that held the migration corridors together. Ambitious, and hardly something easily tackled in two to three weeks. After a morning of hard study, Jack had a sense of what he could do to help kick start Kagunda’s work.

      Promptly at ten there was a knock at the door.

      Jack reached back and swung it open.

      Outside, Samuel stood, almost at attention. “Good morning. If you are ready, Mr.

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