Bernard pulled to a stop at the edge of a deep ravine and his rangers jumped out. “We’ll go in here,” he said. “Tom, drive the truck up to Mitchener’s Point and we’ll meet you there.” He checked his watch. “Give us three hours.”

•   •   •

Four hours later, standing on Mitchener’s Point, Klay studied the terrain below through binoculars.

“You’re wasting your time.” The Perseus Group engineer held up his iPhone. “I can see exactly where the elephant is.”

Klay continued to glass the valley, moving his binoculars in a grid, trying to pick out the Green Guardians among the thick cover.

“See?” said the engineer.

“Maybe,” Klay said, without looking. “Maybe you’re giving away his exact location.”

“The signal’s encrypted. It’s Perseus Group encryption, used by the Israeli military.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“He should have let our Askari drones handle this. It’s in our contract.”

“Why don’t you go sit in the truck with the politician,” Klay said.

“I have a right to be here,” the engineer protested.

Klay lowered his binoculars and faced him. “You don’t have a right. None of us does.”

The engineer shook his head as he walked away. He waved his phone over his head. “This technology might actually save your elephant, you know.”

On the far edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree, the Kenya Wildlife Service ranger smiled. He was a lean older man, his dark face lined from years in the bush. Klay felt bad for him—this was a babysitting assignment. The Green Guardians were permitted to carry automatic weapons as long as KWS had a ranger present. If he stayed out of the way, the seasoned ranger would receive a little cash at the end of the night to salve his pride. The ranger reached two fingers into his shirt pocket, withdrew a loose cigarette, and offered it to Klay.

“I quit,” Klay said, putting the Sportsman cigarette in his mouth. He leaned forward and the ranger lit it with a match.

Klay inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out slowly. “Jesus, that’s bad.”

The ranger nodded in agreement. He drew another cigarette from his pocket, and Klay lit it for him with the tip of his. The two men smoked together in silence.

Klay heard a clicking sound to his right. He turned as Bernard and his rangers materialized from the bush. There was no other way to describe it. One moment there had been trees and bushes; the next they were there. Bernard first, followed by Goodson and Moses. Bernard looked straight at Klay as he approached, the heads of his subordinates swiveling.

“I thought you quit,” Bernard said. He took the cigarette from Klay’s fingers and put it to his own lips. “No elephant,” he added, returning Klay’s smoke.