But what shocked Cobus wasn’t the drugs. It was the animals.

The cages, stacked twenty feet high, contained a veritable ark of the world’s endangered species: eagles and monkeys and bear cubs alongside leopards and turtles and all manner of snakes and lizards that had been transplanted from their natural habitat. They lurched and spun and squawked and snarled in their claustrophobic cells. The image of their suffering sent Cobus’s blood pressure soaring.

“Where is it?” Wan asked, snapping him back to the moment.

Cobus was surprised by Wan’s directness. He had read and heard that Chinese culture was hidebound with ritual, but this was the new China, and Wan was part of a voracious new breed that valued money over tradition.

Cobus peeled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal plastic packages of light-gray powder duct-taped to his torso.

“What is this?” Wan asked skeptically. Cobus had promised him a horn.

“I ground it up in Africa—easier to transport.”

Schwack! Wan snapped open a long, narrow knife and stepped toward Cobus. Slicing the tape, he handed the packages to his men, to weigh on a nearby scale.

As Wan cut the packets from Cobus’s body, Cobus spotted a baby clouded leopard, staring back at him from a small cage. Cobus’s heart broke for the innocent young creature that would likely soon end up in the back of a Bugatti in the Middle East. The leopard cubs’ downfall was that they were adorable, which made them attractive pets in their early years. But nearly all would be put down when they reached adolescence and became too much of a liability. Wan noticed Cobus staring at the animal.

“Some creatures are worth more alive. Others are worth more dead. We’ll see which one you are.”

Wan cut into one of Cobus’s pouches and dug out a small mound of powder on the tip of his blade. He deposited the powder in a ceramic dish, where Broken Tooth carefully squeezed a drop of acid onto it. The mixture immediately bubbled.

Broken Tooth seemed impressed. “One hundred percent pure.”

Wan said to Cobus, “Where’s it coming from?”

“Rhinos. That’s all you need to know. There’s five kilos there.”

Wan eyed the shipment. “I’ll give you ten thousand per kilo—fifty thousand for the whole batch.”

“The street value is half a million,” Cobus protested.

“We’re not on the street.”

Cobus was in the jungle now. He couldn’t show weakness. “And you are not the only buyer,” he said brusquely. “Five hundred thousand for this shipment, and I can arrange for five to twenty more kilos every month for as long as we’re in business—unless you know someone else who can move this much bamboo.”

Wan considered.

“Do we have a deal, or do I need to interview other buyers?” Cobus demanded.

Wan extended his hand. As Cobus reached out to consummate the negotiation, Wan gripped his hand tightly and pulled him close. “If you sell to anyone else, I will chop off this arm.”