The Somali Deception Episode I (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) by Daniel Arthur Smith

your
attention.”
    “This is good,” said Pepe,
already sampling a jar.
    “I think you will find the wine
to your liking as well,” said Ari.   He filled the glasses in front of the four, all now seated.   “The vines grow not far from here.   Though you probably do not want too much
for now.”
    Pepe raised his brow, “Well we
do not want too little.”
    “I’ll drink to that,” said
Alastair.   “Cheers.”
    “Cheers,” the other three echoed
as they touched their glasses together.
    The four men at the table were
veterans of shadow wars, hidden and silent.
    Ari had his training in the
Israeli forces, then later Mossad.   The other three men were at one time Legionnaire super commandos, and
later served clandestine as well.   Cameron was not alone in Corsica, home of the Second Foreign Parachute
Regiment.   Alastair and Pepe were
members of the special elite unit as well, the elite of the elite.   The training that almost killed Cameron,
had bore the same toll on the other two, and all had landed a Dragon badge, the
badge of a commando, and then these men had gone further with Cameron.   The Green Dragons at this table were
part of the same team they had gone from being the tip of the fighting spear on
the battlefield to global undercover operations, from the cites of the new
fallen eastern bloc to the newly democratized Mongolia.
    A little wine was good.
    Regardless of their native born
nationalities, Alastair, Pepe, and Cameron had been in the French Foreign
Legion, so of course they cold easily pass the hours with drink.   For a brief time, Pepe was smiling,
eating, drinking, and as the tangerine bush of Laikipia, extending from the
veranda out to the horizon, began to give way to darker hues of rust, and the
cotton white clouds creamed to vanilla then in time gold, Cameron could almost
forget why they had traveled to Kenya.   They could be in Laikipia merely to see their old brother-in-arms once
again.   Yet, as the evening waned,
Cameron could see that if a pause lagged too long between a story or a joke,
the corners of Pepe’s face would begin to drop.   They would not be going in anytime soon
to earn the rest they needed for the mission to come, rather they would fortify
their friend.   Each time there was a
gap, Cameron was alert to fill the space.   That is if Alastair, also sensitive to the pain behind Pepe’s veil, did
not fill the void first.
    Alastair was the one to finally
ease the afternoon, before a fall of silence could imminently take hold of the
table.   Terry, a tall Maasai in the
shirtless garb of the local Laikipiak people came on to the veranda to clear
the last of the platters.   Only
Alastair took note of Terry’s soft glance away from the table.
    “What is it Terry?” asked
Alastair.
    In his nonchalant way Terry
answered, “She’s back.”
    Alastair stood from his chair
and then peered hard out past the acacia trees at the far end of the cottage.
    “Oh you fellas will love this,”
said Alastair.   From inside the
French doors he grabbed a pair of binoculars from the side table, and then
headed to the edge of the deck.   The
other three remained in their seats.
    “Well c’mon then,” said Alastair
to the other three, already scanning the acacias with his binoculars.
    Cameron and Pepe joined Alastair
by his side.   Ari stayed behind
them.   Alastair fixed the binoculars
on a point past the last tree then handed the glasses to Pepe.
    “What do ya think?” asked
Alastair.
    “She’s beautiful,” said Pepe,
and then shared the binoculars with Cameron.
    Lurking slowly through the brush
beneath the tree was a leopard.
    “What is she doing out this
early?” asked Cameron.
    “She is moving closer to where
she will want to hunt tonight.   Now
she will rest,” said Alastair.
    “We should do the same,” said
Pepe.   “In a short time we must go.”
     
    * * *
* *
     
     

Chapter 12
    Laikipia Plateau
     
     
    Alastair leaned forward to scan
the inky