Ivory Nation

Ivory Nation
A Gabriel Wolfe Thriller


Andy Maslen


Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Also by Andy Maslen
About the Author
Afterword


For my family.


‘The things that we love tell us what we are.’
Thomas Aquinas


1
LATE SUMMER
KGALAGADI TRANSFRONTIER PARK, BOTSWANA
The elephant’s butchered carcass stank. Corporal Steve ‘Stevo’ Wallingham fought the urge to empty his guts onto the African soil beneath his boots.
Shouldering his SA80 rifle, he approached the huge, tusk-less head. The flies swirled in a thick, angry cloud as he drew near. He looked down into the glazed-over eye, with its long, curling eyelashes. But not for long.
What screamed at him from the ravaged face was the ugly, bloody, maggot-filled crater that had until a few hours previously housed the dead animal’s right tusk.
From his briefing with the head of the Botswana Defence Force’s Anti-Poaching Unit, Stevo knew the poachers routinely used petrol-powered chainsaws, when they could get the fuel. If not, they’d hack away with machetes and rip-saws until the precious ivory came free. This crew had obviously had the petrol. Horrific wounds had been gouged into the flesh above, below and behind the socket.
A plaintive wail had him whirling round, grabbing for his rifle. Behind him, Stewie and Rob were crouching, rifles at their shoulders. Moses, Eustace and Virtue were flat on their bellies, their own, more antiquated firearms – Russian-made AK-47 assault rifles – pointing into the bush.
The sound repeated, and he was surprised to see first Moses, then the other two APU men grin, then clamber to their feet. The two other Paras stayed ready on one knee, scanning the foliage just a dozen or so feet in front of them.
Crashes. A swish of leaves being pushed aside. The crackle of snapping wood, bone-dry despite the recent rain shower. Then Stevo smiled too.
A baby elephant emerged from between two acacias, whimpering breathily. Clearly the offspring of the dead bull, it eyed the humans nervously, before turning to the dead elephant. It took a few hesitant steps and bent its head to nuzzle its father’s forehead. It curled its trunk around its father’s and lifted the great, grey mass, before letting it flop to the ground. Again it emitted the strangely human-sounding moan, clearly a pain-filled cry of grief.
Stevo turned to Moses.
‘What do we do with it? Is the mother going to come back?’
Moses shrugged his wide shoulders.
‘I honestly do not know. If she is not with him now, then maybe the poachers have already killed her.’
‘What about the rest of the herd?’ Stewie asked.
Moses shrugged.
Rob had wandered to the edge of the brush. He came back with a long, whippy branch covered at its far end with succulent, bright-green leaves. He waved it to catch the little elephant’s attention
‘Hey, Dumbo! You hungry, lad? Hey? You want some scran?’
The calf turned at the sound of the Yorkshireman’s crooning questions. Its gaze swivelled to the branch, but it stayed rooted to the spot. Rob got down on one knee and held out the branch.
‘Come on, lad. Tha’ must be feelin’ peckish?’
He flicked it to make the leaves rustle. Slowly, taking tiny steps and breathing noisily, the calf approached him. The other five men remained still. With a yard to go, the calf stretched out its trunk and with the delicacy of a jeweller handling a precious gem, curled the tip around the end of the branch. Rob held firm as the calf stripped a big bunch of leaves from the thin twigs.
A crash from the edge of the clearing stopped the little beast’s trunk halfway to its mouth. It turned its head at the noise, lifted its trunk and bleated out a cry. The answering roar was deafening by comparison.
Before Stevo got his rifle to his shoulder, an adult elephant, almost as big as the dead bull, burst into the clearing, trunk raised.
He had time to register the tusks, gleaming white in the noonday sun and to wonder whether this was the calf’s mother. But that was all. Before his horrified gaze, the elephant barrelled into Rob, knocking him onto his back.
The scream issuing from Rob was cut off as her massive front feet smashed down onto his ribs. The awful crunch as the slender bones snapped like dry twigs was clearly audible to Stevo. Yet his finger never got beyond first pressure on the trigger. Rob was dead, foamy scarlet blood bubbling from his mouth, his upper torso mashed to pulp under the raging matriarch’s feet.
The APU men had all aimed at the elephant. Moses loosed off a burst above her head. Trumpeting, she whirled around and took a couple of stiff-legged steps towards the remaining men.
Her ears were held out straight from her head and her trunk waved menacingly from side to side as if she were wielding a sabre.
‘Hold your fire!’ Stevo yelled.
He could feel his heart racing as he confronted the beast towering over them all. He didn’t want to lose another man, but he didn’t want to have to explain how his patrol had shot and killed a female elephant when their mission was to protect them.
Rob was dead. They’d mourn him properly later. But for now he wanted to extract without another casualty, human or animal.
The APU men obeyed unquestioningly, though all three kept their AKs pointed at the elephant. She was puffing out great breaths, the whites of her oddly human eyes showing as she swept her gaze along the tight row of humans.
Then her baby, who’d been cowering behind her, emitted another of its