“How about we kill them all today, Captain?”
Tsongu often liked to joke around, saying the most bizarre things. But this? Narvari Shar didn’t think this was a joke. Even Narvari herself had been thinking the same thing ever since the raids in Kirriba Plains began.
Putting a bullet into the heads of every one of those damn poachers would certainly soothe her tormented soul. But of course, ‘that was not Sharmandi’s way of doing things.’ Governor Andaga’s words, not hers.
And so, here she was with her nine-member team on this dark chilly night when she could be snuggling under the covers of her soft blanket, preferably with a book in hand, and hot chocolate in the other — or on a table. It would be a chore to balance both items at once.
Okay, she needed to focus.
Ignoring the sudden urge to sip some hot chocolate drink, she adjusted the night vision scope on her sniper rifle. She crouched on her flat belly, the tall wet savanna cloaking her presence as she focused her gaze on the herd of bazwu resting in the plains. A few of them breastfed their calf or caressed them with their long heavy trunks. Narvari took a moment to appreciate the majestic sight of the West African four-tusk elephants.
Almost twice the size of regular African elephants with twice the number of tusks, their presence was like the ocean with their beautiful azure hides. It was no wonder these poor creatures were so highly targeted.
The only sign of life was the cries of the nocturnal creatures lurking in the vast grassland. Somewhere hidden in the darkness, she knew her team was waiting for her command. Narvari, on the other hand, waited patiently for Eagle stationed back in the command center of Sharmandi Tower. Eagle was their eyes and ears for the operation.
Earlier, Narvari and her team had received amber alerts from Sharmandi Tower about poachers sneaking into the plains. But after showing up and waiting in the shadows for almost half an hour, Eagle had still not spotted a single poacher.
Did the poachers finally give up? Narvari thought. Maybe they got tired of being defeated by the WPU every single time. No, she doubted that was the case. Those spawns of hell were too charred in the brain to give up on killing endangered species. Maybe they were already here but Eagle was having trouble locating them. It was only Motongo’s first time as Eagle after all.
Don’t panic, Narvari. Motongo will be fine.
That boy was only half her age, but he was smarter than his older brother and Narvari combined. She had faith in him.
“We have company, Cap,” Motongo’s small voice blared in her ears. Impeccable timing.
Narvari flashed a smile. “How many?”
“I count five. About six kilometers northeast.”
Narvari narrowed her eyes. How did they get so close? She focused her scope on the northeast. Something slithered in the grassland. Five things, actually. And they were heading straight to the unsuspecting bazwu. If only the bazwu would thrust their tusks into those devils. Unfortunately, the bazwu were some of the most gentle and peaceful creatures on earth despite their size.
Fortunately, Narvari was none of those things.
Damn poachers.
“Squad One,” she said, “Do you have eyes on them?”
“We have a clear shot, Captain,” came Tsongu’s husky voice. Tsongu had rightfully earned the title of Sniper King for his deadly accuracy in shooting from extremely long distances.
“Take the shot.”
“With pleasure.” Narvari heard the smile in his voice.
The slithering suddenly halted as the poachers sank into the grass.
“Eagle.”
“Cap.”
“Where are the others?”
“I see none, Cap.”
“Strange.” It was Dawuli’s rich baritone voice. At forty-three, he was the oldest and most experienced soldier in the WPU. Five years ago, Dawuli had encouraged Narvari to take the Captain’s Test and then mentored her every step of the way when she became WPU’s youngest captain.
“What?” asked Narvari.
“Last night there were eleven of them. But today there are only five?”
Narvari nodded. She had thought about it too. “Something doesn’t add up.”
In only the past week, there had been four raids in the Kirriba Plains with each raid bigger than the last. These people were certainly up to something if only five poachers had shown up.
“Eagle, do a 360.”
“Roger that, Cap.”
Narvari waited with bated breath as Motongo did a thorough sweep of the plains.
“Oh no, Cap. It’s an ambush.”
Narvari sighed. “How many?”
“At least two dozen people. They are heavily armed.”
“Mercenaries. Same group as last night. What’s their position?”
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“Lofanu Boulders. Sorry, Cap. I didn’t see them before.”
“No worries, kiddo. You’re doing great.”
If the mercenaries were hiding at Lofanu Boulders, then they were only a few meters away from the border. How did they even get past the Dorbenese border patrol in the first place? It was illegal to hunt here, and it was even worse when the hunted was the bazwu.
The bazwu had only survived all this time because the Kirriba protected them for generations. This sacred duty existed even long before Narvari’s grandfather created the Wildlife Protection Unit.
Not one bazwu had been lost to poachers when her grandfather was captain. Neither had that happened while her father, who she would rather not think about, was captain. It certainly would not happen today when she was captain.”
“To Lofanu Boulders everyone. Keep it quiet.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Narvari rose from her crouching position. The only source of light was the half-moon gracing the black starless sky. Her goggles made it possible to navigate the thick darkness.
“Eagle, keep me posted,” she said, dashing through the night.
“Yes, Cap.”
Although Narvari could not hear her soldiers’ footsteps, she knew they were following her, weaving through the grass silently like the wind. It was a WPU specialty — sneak up on your enemy when they least expected and then strike. Thankfully, the darkness together with the long golden grass kept them hidden.
The massive boulders came into sight a few minutes later and Narvari slowed her pace. The heat sensors within her goggles sensed something. Or someone. Whoever it was must have sensed her presence too because the person suddenly shot at her.
Narvari meandered her body, swiftly dodging the bullet. She somersaulted a few feet away. The mercenary was not done with her. He opened fire. Continuously. Narvari lunged from boulder to boulder, bullets closely tailing her like a shadow of fireworks. She flipped backward landing like an Olympic gymnast behind the mercenary. The mercenary paused as if wondering where Narvari had disappeared.
“Are you looking for me?” she smirked.
He spun around but she was already in his face, simultaneously kicking the gun out of his hand and punching him in the throat.
He wheezed and staggered backward with an even paler face.
“Why do you keep coming back?” she asked, sauntering towards the man in slow calculating steps. “We keep sending you back, and you keep coming back. Do you have a fetish for getting beat up or something?”
Even in his disoriented state, the man managed to retrieve a Glock from his waist.
This idiot. She rolled her eyes. In a flash, before he could aim his gun, she snatched it from him. She quickly detached the magazine and let it drop to the floor. He froze, gaping at Narvari with wide green eyes.
“What the fuck are you people?” The harshness of his voice pricked Narvari’s eardrums.
Narvari hurled the handgun into his face. He lost his balance and fell flat on his ass.
“The bazwu are not yours to take,” said she. “How many times do I have to get it through your thick skulls?”
He clenched his teeth, the shock slowly morphing into anger. The look on his face said that he would not be bested by some teenage girl with attitude. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at Narvari with that bloody gash on his face.
“The Boss will never stop,” he seethed.
Narvari’s step faltered. “Who the hell is your boss?”
“He’ll keep coming until he gets what he wants.”
Until he gets what he wants?
Was he referring to the bazwu? It must be. Why else would they stubbornly keep coming back to the Kirriba Plains?
“If you know what’s good for you,” the mercenary said, oblivious to Narvari’s inner dilemma, “you’ll give him what he wants. You don’t want to get on his bad side.”
“And you do not want to get on my barely good side.” Her gaze chilled. “Stay away from our plains or next time we won’t be so welcoming.”
Fury clouded his eyes. He was out for blood, she could sense it. He suddenly withdrew a hunting knife strapped to his leg. How many weapons did this man carry on himself? He was one persistent idiot, she would give him that. Brandishing the weapon, he lunged toward her like a crazed bull in a rodeo.
Sheer reflexes kicked in as Narvari pulled the tranquilizer gun from her belt holster. She shot a dart into his neck, sending the man’s limp body sprawling on the grass.
A great sense of boredom overwhelmed her. What kind of ill-trained mercenaries were these? She didn’t even get to fight properly.
A barely inaudible shuffling caught her ears. She stilled, listening. Something was coming from behind her. With her index finger dancing dangerously close to the trigger, she spun around and pointed her tranquilizer gun at the mountain of a man emerging from the shadows.
“It’s me, Captain.” Dawuli raised his two hands. The others trailed behind him.
Narvari lowered her gun. “All done?”
“All done.” Dawuli nodded like the answer was that obvious.
“Everyone alright?” Her eyes took a quick headcount of all eight of her soldiers. None of them was detached from their limbs. Good.
Satisfied that her team was fine, Narvari knelt beside the unconscious man and scrutinized his armored gear. These people had come prepared for war — no doubt about it.
“It’s the same group as last night. Look at the symbol.” Narvari touched the emblem of a crow on the man’s vest.
“Who are they?” asked Wobugi, the second youngest soldier in WPU — second only to Narvari. “We’ve never had to deal with foreign poachers before.”
“We hardly have issues with local poachers,” Tsongu corrected.
They were both right. The fierceness of the WPU was so ingrained into the bones of every poacher that not even the most notorious among them would dare hunt in Kirriba Plains. All that, however, changed a week ago.
“They are working for someone.” Her mind went back to her brief conversation with the unconscious man. Clearly, they were taking orders from he who would not stop until he got what he wanted.
“Did he say anything?” Dawuli asked.
“Not much.” She shrugged. Ever since the raids began, this was the closest thing to information Narvari had gathered about the poachers. “Their boss must have a lot of connections because someone at the top is helping them.”
“Someone at the top?” another soldier asked. “Who would dare do that? Kirriba Plains is out of bounds. Everyone knows this.”
“So then how did they get past the Dorbenese border patrol?”
The implication of Narvari’s words hung in the air like heavy smog.
It wasn’t until Dawuli cleared his throat that the spell of silence broke. “Captain, I think it’s too early to accuse Dorben.”
Narvari paused thoughtfully. Maybe so. But there was a foul play going on here and Dorben was her first suspect. Their northern neighbor may not be directly involved but they were definitely turning a blind eye to the poachers invading the plains.
Indeed, Kirriba Plains may be shared ancestral lands of the Kirriba people of both Dorben and Sharmandi. However, the Kirriba Treaty signed by these two countries ensured that those lands were recognized as a natural reserve for the bazwu and the host of wildlife in the plains.
The Dorbenese border patrol was supposed to be arresting these poachers in the first place yet not a single arrest had been made since the raids began. Was it possible the poachers had found a way into the plains without Dorben’s knowledge?
She didn’t know what to think. This demanded a thorough investigation. Whoever this so-called boss was must be stopped before things got worse.
Narvari instructed her soldiers to gather the unconscious poachers and tie them up.
“What are we going to do about them? They will only keep coming back,” said Tsongu, tying up the man Narvari had tranquilized.
If the poachers succeeded in killing even one of their bazwu, everyone else would think it was open season in Kirriba Plains. She could not let that happen.
She had already decided. “I will invoke the Nnadago.”
“What?” They gawked at her as though she had just threatened to nuke the earth.
Dawuli raised a brow. “But what about Korumi? You have to report to her first.”
“It will take too long.”
Now was not the time for a hectic bureaucracy with the Minister of Environment and Wildlife Protection. This was an emergency and the Nnadago took care of emergencies.