Location: Africa… Three weeks ago
They closed the distance with achingly slow movements; using the sound of the afternoon breeze moving through the leaves to mask that of their own advance. Their prey was indeed clever; camouflaging themselves and the location they chose as a reconnaissance point with the man-made gear they had brought with them. One thing the prey had failed to anticipate however, was that the land of Africa took care of its own – the very hush of the land had been enough to alert the scouts in the area that intruders were afoot.
Now, as they continued to close the distance, surrounding the security detail standing in a loose circle with tactically-painted faces and slapping at the flies that buzzed too close, the predators froze in position as they awaited the signal from above.
At a position of five hundred yards away, a seasoned sniper; face painted like his brethren walking through the field below, continued to scan the environs near the camouflaged site. Although he held no interest in finding out just what it was his team were protecting this particular group of civilians from, he comforted himself with the reminder that the pay was good. In fact, this mission was going so smoothly that he had already spent the money in his mind.
“How does it look up there Janvier?” his second-in-command asked via the team’s radio channel.
“Nothing to ‘cept for the flies,” Janvier replied while slapping at a fly as if on cue, “any movement down below?”
“Mon Dieu! That was a huge one!” his second-in-command replied while slapping at a fly that was bold enough to land on his lip, “all clear down here. Easy money.”
“Easy money,” the sniper agreed.
Above the sniper however, another hunter flattened himself along the length of a branch that hung overhead. He breathed evenly and without a sound, his mind devoid of any adrenaline as he observed the movements of his prey lying below him.
Reaching into the strap around his back, he slowly eased the two-foot length of pipe from its holster, eyes locking on his target for any hint that his presence was noticed. In a silent display of strength, the hunter lowered himself from the branch with one arm while in the other, he held his weapon to his lips. Inhaling slowly and deeply until he achieved maximum capacity, the hunter exhaled along the length of the pipe. Using the grunt and resultant slap to mask the sound of his landing, he closed the distance to the sniper in a blur of movement; grabbing ahold of the now unconscious man’s rifle before it could fall through the trees with a clatter of sound.
Mission accomplished, the hunter cupped his hands before signaling the rest of his peers with the sound of a leopard’s cough.
➖➖➖
The hunters seemed to rise out of the ground mere inches from where the remaining members of the security detail held watch; grabbing their automatic rifles and subduing them in quick time – the deadly blades they wielded were pressed against jugulars - quelling any further movements. The two civilians yelped in surprise as the video camera they operated was yanked from its tripod, the fake camouflage shelter they hid beneath was sliced by another blade, spilling the afternoon sunlight into their terrified faces.
“Have you found what you are looking for?” the fearsome looking woman asked in a heavy French accent while driving the heel of her foot into the camera as she pointed the tip of her blade in the direction of the pair hugging each other.
The lone female among the hunters called out the commands with an air of authority as the team moved with grim faces, acknowledging each instruction before executing. The intruders were now trussed up against each other, mouths devoid of any restraints.
“Feel free to scream,” the woman addressed them as the afternoon sun glinted of the piercings lining her ear, “there is no one to hear you for miles.”
“Please,” the beady-eyed man with the pasty skin pleaded, “we work for an international magazine.”
“So why do workers of an international magazine need mercenary level security?” a deep voice asked, his French heavily accented by the influence of his African heritage.
The huntress looked away from the bound intruders, gaze softening as she saw the final member of her team approaching. Over his shoulder, he easily carried the now bound sniper he had ambushed like a sack of dried grass; the confiscated rifle carried in his free hand.
“Are you well Zuzu?” she asked in the language of their people – a melodic mixture of Xhosa and Arabic.
“Always,” the male hunter replied, depositing the man unceremoniously before stripping the weapon in seconds to let the pieces fall in the grass near his head.
“All researchers have both permissions to enter our lands as well as an accompanying passes. You have neither. You are intruders!” the huntress snarled, blade pointed at the pair.
Her surrounding brethren growled in agreement, shifting on the balls of their feet.
“They cannot go freely,” the fastest runner, Amari addressed the huntress in their language.
“Look at this equipment,” Zuzu added, examining the lenses of the video cameras, “these are infrared. Nowhere close to our level of tech, but we need to know more.”
“Agreed. After we extract all there is to know I shall make a decision.”
“We were testing out some new technology,” the second member of the recon team replied, eyes and tone level; showing no signs of fear. “We were inserted with this gear to attempt to leave your lands as undisturbed as possible. The men accompanying us were to ensure we got back across the border undetected.”
“Africa knows everything,” she replied.
“I shall remember that,” the man replied with an incline of his head.
“Untie them,” she instructed.
“What will you do?” Nobu, her second-in-command asked.
“We shall let Africa decide.”
The hunters all smiled ferally at the judgement, closing in on the intruders to haul them to their feet before undoing the restraints.
“Strip,” the huntress ordered, “or we can strip you,” she continued, examining the tip of her blade.
The captured men leapt to the task with vigor, leaving their clothes in a pile before cupping their privates, shivering slightly as the temperature dropped with night’s approach. Only one made no effort to hide himself; looking the huntress and the others in the eye.
“This one has a trace of rebellious lion in him,” Zuzu murmured as he came to stand next to her, “shall I stamp it out?”
Shaking her head, she stepped forth to address the gathered men, “Walk!”
The group of men looked over their shoulder in the direction she pointed to whip their heads back in her direction in disbelief.
“Walk or die!” she repeated, folding her arms in a gesture that left no room for argument.
This time they moved, huddling together in a mass of cream-colored buttocks as they attempted to make their best speed in the direction of the setting sun. The huntress almost smiled at the sight, giving the signal to her two fastest scouts – Amari and Kamal to escort the intruders only up to the unseen border of their lands before returning to the village.
Nodding, the two warriors crouched low to the ground, seeming to melt into the waist height grass that covered the expanse of the field.
Unfolding her arms, the huntress returned her blade to the leather sheath that ran down the outside of her left thigh before addressing the remainder of her clan members, “Let us return,” she commanded; the warm glow of the setting sun reflected in the light brown of her eyes, “Mother Africa has them now.”
One by one, the hunters melted away, each of them taking an article of an intruder until all that moved were the strands of grass beneath the evening breeze.
In the distance… a clan of hyenas laughed.
END OF EPISODE
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Army of Sin - Season 3 - Africa and Her Secrets
FantasíaHenrí Donoma is an immortal with renewed purpose. With his reunion with his brother; the King of Hell, his exile has been annulled and he has been given new information that may well help turn the tide of the coming war that he can sense. However, h...
