Babysitting The Mafia The Tainted With Blood Series

Like a sauna, the Zambezi valley is hot under the African sun as Piet signals to the group following him through the bush to stop. Up ahead are what they have been looking for and the rumble from their bellies and the sound of breaking branches carry to the group. Excitement ripples through them as they have finally found a herd of elephant. Piet moves back to the group and quietly runs through the safety instructions with them once again, ensuring that they understand that these are wild animals and not some domestic dog that you can scratch behind the ear.

Slowly they move towards the herd, the group in awe at the size of the creatures just ahead of them. A young bull raises his trunk to the sky to test the air, followed by a few more of his relatives but Piet is not worried as they are approaching the herd from downwind and their eyesight is not that good either. The group gets into position and start shooting.

The soft whirl of the video camera, the click of a shutter as photo after photo of the elephants are taken, and finally when Piet feels that enough is enough he signals to them to backtrack slowly, and he leads his group back to the camp where an ice cold beer is waiting.

It was now two months since his return from the Congo and Piet had recovered from his knife wound and settled back into family life, his business is doing well and his only problem at the moment was to reject the advances of the young ladies in his group who thought a roll in the hay with the Big Game Hunter was all a part of the package.

“Nee this bloody life is a joke, a man wanders around the bush without a ring on the finger and nothing, now they are like the bloody mosquitoes, and they can’t seem to get enough of me. Fok Peggy would give me a fokken snot klap, man I would rather wrestle with a croc, than tangle with her.”

***

Veronica had returned to her post as H.O.D. of the Department of African Culture along with Ben, and both of them had put the Congo behind them and buried themselves back in the work they loved.

She had chalked up her missing suitcase as just another victim to fall foul to the sticky hands that handle the airline luggage and put in a claim for the missing clothes. It was not the first time that some of her luggage never reached its intended destination.