A man in a dark blue and purple uniform stepped out, peering down at Clay and Caesare. The man then descended the stairs, crossing the asphalt.
“John Clay?” he asked aloud, over the whining engines.
“Right here.” Clay walked forward slowly and reached up to shake hands. “This is Steve Caesare.”
“Gentlemen,” the man nodded, speaking in a distinctly South African accent. “I’m James Murphy. I understand we’re here to give you a lift.”
“Much obliged,” Caesare said, shaking hands. “How long will it take you to unload?”
Murphy smiled. “We’ve got nothing to unload here. We’ve been diverted for you and your cargo only.”
Caesare grinned at Clay. “I feel important.”
“I’d say so,” Murphy nodded. “First time I’ve seen that. I’m guessing someone called in one hell of a favor.” He paused, looking around. “Where is your cargo?”
After being waved through a security gate, Bruna handed the papers back to DeeAnn, who was sitting behind her on the first bench seat. A sudden bounce sent her higher in the rearview mirror along with Dulce and Dexter, both of whom were sitting awkwardly next to her. Neither one looked comfortable on the vinyl surface. Behind them, the rest of the van was filled with supplies, including two large boxes of food.
Bruna navigated slowly behind two rows of tall hangars before reaching the end of the row, easing to a stop. She studied the area briefly before turning the wheel and continuing forward. Darkness was descending as they reached the end of the terminal and spotted the giant plane with three figures standing below it.
Two of the figures walked briskly toward the van as Bruna came to a gradual stop. She unfastened her seatbelt and turned over her shoulder to DeeAnn.
“You are okay, missus?”
DeeAnn stared silently out through the front window at the terminal’s lights around them and inhaled. “I’m fine.” She looked down at Dulce and winked. The gorilla smiled back.
Seconds later, the side door of the van was opened from the outside and pulled back, revealing the figures of Caesare and Clay.
Caesare’s grin found DeeAnn, pausing for a moment before smiling at Dulce. “There’s my girl!”
With no hesitation, Dulce’s giant smile returned and she immediately jumped from the seat into Caesare’s muscular arms — an exchange that Dexter watched with interest.
Caesare winked. “Nice to see you, Dee.”
She frowned at him sarcastically. She hated being called Dee, much to Caesare’s enjoyment.
Caesare extended his hand, which she ignored as she grasped the handle above the door, lowering herself onto the ground.
“Was it something I said?” he grinned.
She smirked at him, humorously. “It’s always something you said.”
“Aw, come on, Dee. That’s just my Texas charm.”
Caesare was still wearing his grin when he turned back to the van and noticed Dexter carefully observing them. He reached out his free hand and watched the monkey take a tiny step back.
The monkey studied him cautiously then looked to Dulce, who was hanging on the large human’s left shoulder. Dexter remained still for a long time before finally taking a step forward. His small, dark eyes glanced at the others before returning to Dulce.
Patiently, Caesare waited, his hand still out. When Dexter finally moved forward again, the primate reached out and sniffed Caesare’s hand before climbing onto his forearm. He paused again… and nervously crawled higher onto the other shoulder.
When Caesare turned back, DeeAnn was surprised. And more than a little relieved.
Clay chuckled. “Okay, Doctor Doolittle.”
Caesare winked at DeeAnn. “See, Dee? Charm.”
Her expression softened. Their playfulness remained the cornerstone of their love-hate relationship. But it was the trust that Caesare seemed to instill in both the animals that she was absolutely counting on.
With her own grin, she shook her head jokingly. “Maybe you could put that charm to more constructive use.”
“If I had a nickel…” Caesare replied.
With that, DeeAnn turned to Bruna, who had joined them and was now standing next to Clay. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. “Thank you, Bruna.”
“You are welcome, missus.”
DeeAnn straightened. “I’ll call you when we’re getting ready to come back.”
Bruna nodded warmly, her eyes reassuring DeeAnn. They both knew it was a call that would likely never come.
Murphy approached from behind, now with another man dressed in the same uniform. DeeAnn thanked them and motioned to the back of the van. From there, the men quickly unloaded the boxes and began carrying them back to the plane.
After waiting until they were out of earshot, Caesare glanced briefly at Clay again and spoke for the two of them. “So, DeeAnn. Care to fill us in here?”
Her face grew serious. She watched as Bruna instinctively turned around, stepping back toward the van and giving them privacy.
DeeAnn cleared her throat. “I think it’s in Rwanda.”
“That’s not what we mean.”
When she didn’t answer, Caesare continued, “Borger thinks he found fragments of the markers we were looking for pretty close to where you had him scanning. How did you know where to look?”
“I wasn’t sure. Exactly.”
“Well, then that was one hell of a guess.”
DeeAnn finally took a deep breath and reached down to turn off her vest, causing Dulce to twist her head curiously from Caesare’s shoulder.
“It was a hunch,” she sighed. “One that I actually hoped would be wrong.”
“And why is that?” Clay asked.
“Because it was not a place I wanted to go. Any of us.”
“Rwanda?”
She nodded. “It’s a bad place — a country run by thugs and warlords, claiming to be militia. Ruthless men that have no compassion for anyone or anything. Where people are kidnapped or killed on a regular basis.”
Both men’s expressions grew serious.
“There are a lot of places like that in Africa.”
DeeAnn shook her head. “Rwanda is worse. Years ago, a colleague of mine was murdered, and I swore I’d never set foot in that place.”
“What happened?”
“She was a well-known researcher, world-renowned actually, studying gorillas in their natural environment. She was one of the Trimates.”
“What’s a Trimate?”
“It’s a term for the three researchers originally sent by Louis Leakey to Africa, to expand upon his original work into primates and their biological history. DeeAnn paused, grimly. “My friend was one of them, and she was killed as a result.”
Clay’s brows furrowed. “What was her name?”
“Someone you’ve probably heard of. Dian Fossey.”
Clay recognized the name. “I remember reading about her.”
“You should. They made a movie based on her work.”
“Dian Fossey, the anthropologist.”
“And primatologist. Dian studied gorillas, Jane Goodall studied chimpanzees, and Birute Galdikas researched orangutans. All three of whom continued the work originally started by Leakey and his wife in Olduvai, where they uncovered the first true origins of human evolution.”
“You mean the actual place from where we all originated?”
She nodded. “Evolved. Yes.”
“And she was murdered?”
DeeAnn continued. “Some of us at the Gorilla Foundation had followed Dian and her work for years. It all started when Leakey helped secure the funding for a long-term study of gorillas in the Congo and hired Dian. She traveled to meet Jane Goodall and observe her work before heading to the Congo. But not before she was caught in a country-wide revolution, causing her to move to the other side of the Virungas Mountains. That was where she spent the next twenty years doing research in the rain forests of Rwanda. Studying gorillas, who until then, knew humans only as predators.”