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prepare for her transfer tomorrow morning. She is going to have the best care available.”
    The words did little to comfort him. He put his head in his hands, closed his eyes, and attempted to bring his emotions under control.
    “There's nothing more you can do here, Mr. Barnes,” the doctor said using the name he had given. “You should get some rest. If you like, the duty nurse can organize a hotel and transport.”
    Bishop rose. “No thanks.” He felt like a zombie as he walked out of the hospital into the crisp evening air. Glancing at his watch he calculated that only two hours had passed since Christina had driven the shot-up truck into the camp. Kruger was due to arrive at any moment and if they moved fast there was a chance they could track down the men who had shot her.
    The clatter of a diesel engine caught his attention and he squinted as headlights swung into the parking lot.
    A Nissan truck pulled up alongside him. “Get in,” yelled an Afrikaans-accented voice.
    He opened the door and climbed inside. The man at the wheel was what was commonly referred to in the military as a 'unit'. Kruger's spiked brown hair touched the roof of the shabby interior of the truck and his broad shoulders filled the cab.
    “OK, here’s the plan.” Kruger wasn't one to mince words. “Old mate of mine has a light aircraft waiting at a strip nearby. He’s got us weapons and transport to Luangwa and there’s enough room for Princess.”
    “Who is Princess?”
    Kruger turned to him with a frown. “Princess is a Rhodesian-Mastiff cross. She’s the best hunting dog on the continent.” He jerked his head over his shoulder. “They've got a bit of a head start but if you're keen we can track them down.”
    Bishop turned in his seat and spotted a pair of brown eyes and a wet black nose. “I want these bastards dead.”
    Kruger drove the truck out of the parking lot and accelerated down the dark road. “Dead we can do.”
     
    ***
     
    NORTH LUANGWA NATIONAL PARK, ZAMBIA
     
    Thirty minutes later a Cessna Caravan touched down at the dark airstrip behind the ranger camp at Luangwa. Bishop jumped out of the cabin wearing a South African-style chest rig, carrying a worn R5 carbine . He strode across to the waiting Land Cruiser and climbed in the passenger side.
    “Is she OK?” asked Dom from the driver’s seat. He glanced at their weapons.
    “No, she's in a coma.”
    “I'm so sorry, Aden.”
    Kruger climbed into the back of the vehicle and Princess followed, leaping in beside him. He was similarly equipped as Bishop but carried a heavier R1 rifle .
    “Dom, this is Kruger.”
    The massive South African leaned forward and shook the New Zealander’s hand.
    Dom drove at high speed away from the airfield, through the camp, and out onto the track north toward Mwaleshi Falls.
    “How is Christina?” yelled Bishop over the engine.
    “Pretty shook up. They took her by ambulance to Lusaka.” Dom weaved the two-ton truck through a thicket of trees with the finesse of a rally driver. “Look, I can’t send my rangers with you. They’re not trained or equipped to deal with people like this.”
    “That’s OK. We’ve got it.”
    “I don’t think you understand. We’re talking military training and weapons. These guys are hard-core criminals. They’ll gun you down in cold blood.”
    “Not if we get the drop on them,” said Kruger.
    “You’re seriously going after them?”
    “Yep,” replied Bishop.
    “Then I should come with you, you’ll need an extra shooter.”
    Bishop shook his head. “Negative, we'll take care of it.”
    They drove in silence before he caught a glimpse of lights through the scrub. As they got closer he could see there were vehicles parked beside the riverbank.
    “OK, we’re here,” said Dom as he skidded the truck to a halt.
    “Princess, let's go.” Kruger and the dog leaped out of the cab. The South African surveyed the scene with his weapon at the ready.
    “They killed a black rhino on