Prologue  

Serengeti National Park, Tanzania

Beginning of Masika, the long rains

As a maelstrom of storm clouds approached the single-engine Cessna, Ben Matthews shot a quick glance toward Ewan McAvoy then braced himself for the next body slam. Suddenly caught in a downdraft the plane pitched violently, slamming Ben against the passenger door.

Feeling claustrophobic in the tight quarters of the plane’s cabin Ben could feel a cold sweat beading down his back while Ewan white-knuckled the steering column and fought to coax the plane into a tight turn.

            “We’ve got to get back to base,” Ewan shouted as another crash of thunder rolled across the sky, ever nearer.

            “You can do it,” said Ben, his voice rising above the din.

            Suddenly a loud bang jolted both men.

            Ben was convinced they’d hit something, a bird perhaps.

            Or they’d been hit.

            Ever since coming to Africa, Ben sensed he was finding himself in increasingly dangerous situations.

            Or being placed in them purposely, the earlier warnings from Kate now ringing in his ears.

            Ben had taken heed of the warnings but rather than turn and run, giving up on this opportunity to experience Africa, he’d decided to ride it out. He’d wanted to get here for so long he didn’t want to leave now. To ease Kate’s concern, he swore he’d keep his head on a swivel and watch for anything suspicious or untoward that might give him reason to worry about his personal safety.

            But he was staying.

            “Fine,” she’d cautioned. “But please be careful.”

            “I will,” he’d promised.

            Thankfully, considering their current predicament, Ben had full confidence in Ewan, a wiry, sandy blond-haired South-African ex-pat who had flown almost every type of fixed-wing military aircraft for that country’s Air Force. Once finished his military service Ewan had turned his attention back to his second love, protecting Africa’s wildlife. Offering his skills to the Tanzanians he was able to return to flying the smaller Cessna, the aircraft that first inspired his interest in flight.

            Ewan had expressed to Ben that he felt as one with the smaller planes, their wings merely an extension of his own body that he was able to manipulate and maneuver at will, overriding the forces of gravity and the vagaries of African weather.

            But even Ewan had his limits, as any pilot would under these turbulent circumstances.

            Wide-eyed, Ewan now wrestled with the controls, trying to strong-arm the aircraft back toward the heavens while gravity fought to counteract his effort. Nothing he tried seemed to be working then suddenly, without warning, the single-engine Cessna lost power and stalled.

            “Damn,” Ewan shouted as he tried desperately to restart the engine, dropping the plane’s nose to regain momentum, then flipping switches, adjusting knobs, and checking gauges, all to no avail.

            “Christ, we’re going in,” Ben yelled as they started to nose-dive.

            “Hold on,” Ewan grimaced as he pulled back on the steering column with all his strength. “We’re going to hit hard.”

            “Can’t you slow us down?” Ben yelled, bracing himself against the console and seat back with a death grip as the plane dropped like a stone.

            “I’m trying,” Ewan shouted, desperate to level out the plane’s descent.

            The next thing Ben knew, they were hurtling toward the ground as Ewan struggled to guide the Cessna away from the trees and granite outcrops. Aiming for an open grassy patch of savannah, they barely missed a large acacia, its spiked branches brushing their wingtips. Finally slamming into the wooded hillside, they careened to a stop at the base of a large kopje, luckily avoiding hitting the massive boulders.

            When the ear-jarring screech of ripping metal finally stopped, an eerie silence ensued, briefly punctuated by the hissing of steam and gases. 

            Seriously injured and barely conscious, Ben eased his head upright and looked over at Ewan, slumped across the steering column.

            “Ewan,” he whispered.

            Struggling, he reached across and grasped the pilot’s shoulder, trying to shake out a response.

            “Ewan, c’mon wake up.”

            Summonsing all his strength Ben pushed open his door then unbuckled Ewan’s seatbelt. Grimacing with pain, he managed to extricate himself and Ewan from the wreckage, struggling to put some distance between them and the crumpled remains of the Cessna.

            Suddenly a loud explosion shattered the silence, engulfing the aircraft in flames and tossing pieces of the plane’s fuselage high into the air, scattering them on the ground, barely missing Ben and Ewan.

            Just then the sky opened up.