Basani and Lawrence trailed Cobus as they patrolled the savanna with their black FN FAL assault rifles slung over their shoulders. The poachers were armed with weapons suited to hunting animals, and the rangers were armed with weapons for hunting poachers.

Unlike Basani and the other field rangers, Lawrence was raised on the Mozambique side of the border. Though the border town he grew up in was only a few kilometers away, he hadn’t been home in five years—ever since the local poaching syndicate put a bounty on his head. It was as much retribution for betraying his tribe as a deterrent for any others who might choose the wrong side in the poaching war.

The thin green line of rangers stalked through the bush. The Lower Sabie region of the park was home to all the Big Five, and Cobus and his team had already spotted cape buffalo, elephants, lions, and a leopard this morning. Though their mission was merely to patrol, seeing all five in one day was always a little morale victory for the rangers. Only the rhino remained on the list to find, though the hulking gray beasts had grown harder to locate after being hunted to the brink.

Basani stepped ahead of Cobus as they approached a popular grazing area for rhinos and elephants. One of the greatest threats to the rangers was the very animals they were sworn to protect. Hundreds of thousands of years of hunting and evolution had trained the animals to fear men and protect themselves from the deadly apes by any means. But women had historically not been involved in the hunts. Thus, while nearly every male ranger had a repertoire of stories about being charged by giant deadly creatures, there were almost no instances of female rangers being attacked. Cobus therefore had Basani lead their patrols whenever they approached areas more densely populated with big animals, so that neither he nor Lawrence would end up as a red stain in an elephant’s track.

As they moved east through the bush, Basani raised her fist. Cobus and Lawrence halted, scanning the grass for threats.

Basani pointed to a patch of ground where there were several cigarette butts and a Twizza soda bottle. “Poachers camped here.”

Cobus evaluated the concentration of insects that had gathered at the plastic bottle. Though he had studied the art of reading spoor during his time at Kruger, he was nowhere nearly as skilled as Basani and Lawrence. “This is from last night?” he guessed.

Lawrence nodded as he studied the debris.

“The cigarettes are from this morning,” Basani added with a note of concern.

Cobus instinctively toggled the selector on his assault rifle from “safe” to “fire,” then pressed past Basani to lead the patrol. Basani and Lawrence heard the click of his selector, which sent a rush of adrenaline through their bodies as they mentally prepared for the possibility of a firefight. Though Basani and Lawrence were proficient with small arms and had ample training, they didn’t have Cobus’s combat experience and lacked his instincts when it came to hunting men. Cobus was a killer by nature and trade, and they were especially thankful to have him on their side in moments like this.