eBook5 -African Waters: A Rick Waters Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series) Book 5

CHAPTER ONE

“Jules, I guess we’re going to Zambia.”
Rick and Jules had just solved the murder of Ava, the

daughter of a wealthy businessman in South Africa. The case had been covered by mainstream media all over Africa and was one of the most publicized cases the country had ever seen. In the hotel, they and Gary had been ready to take a breather and then get out of Africa and out of the spotlight—until a young black man by the name of Junior Dlamini knocked on the door and offered Rick another case. His father, Bandile Dlamini, had been killed in what was officially ruled a “hunting accident.” But Junior was certain he had been murdered.

“My father spent most of his life protecting animals from poachers,” he’d explained. “He made many enemies.” Shortly before his death, his dad had become aware of a large stash of illegal elephant ivory. “The biggest collec- tion in all of Africa. There is a seventeen-million-kwacha reward for finding the ivory and delivering it to the gov- ernment to get it off of the black market. That’s the equivalent to a million US dollars. My father found the stash and stole it. He hid it somewhere near the Zambezi River near the Kafue National Park. He told me if anything ever hap- pened to him, that the proof of his death would be found with the ivory. He gave me a map to it, but it was destroyed when my dad’s Toyota Land Cruiser was fire-bombed. He had just given it to me when his new Land Rover Defender arrived. I think the men who blew up my Toyota thought my dad was driving. I was lucky to get out alive. I have ter- rible burns on my arms.” He lifted his arms, which were both covered in bandages. “When the truck blew up, I had just opened the top and I was able to climb out before it burnt to the ground. The map was in the console. It was completely destroyed. Two days later, my father was shot in the back and died alone beside his new overland truck. There’s no way it was an accident. No one would shoot that close to a vehicle accidentally.”

Junior had told Rick that because the local police were corrupt and had failed to solve his dad’s murder, the case had gone cold. “Please, Mr. Waters, you must help me.” He’d stared at Rick plaintively, his dark eyes behind his glasses begging for help.

After careful deliberation, Rick had decided to take on the case. Even if there wasn’t compensation for returning the ivory to the government, he would’ve taken the case anyway. It was the right thing to do. For now, Florida would have to wait. He just didn’t know how to break the news to his crew, Johnie and Possum, back in Key West. He’d figure it out. This was too important.

“Junior, I’ll help you. By the way, this is Jules, and over there is my partner, Gary. We’ll need to fly to Zambia. What is the closest airport to your area?”

Junior nodded and smiled at the other two before answer- ing. “That would be Lusaka. It’s about a six-and-a-half-hour drive to my camp near Kafue National Park. I have plenty of room for you and your friends.”

“You can fly with us. Gary has his jet here at the airport.”

“Heck yeah,” chimed in Gary. “You are totally welcome to fly on my jet. I’ve never been to Zambia, but I’ve heard the wildlife is extraordinary.”

“Thank you, Mr. Waters. I just need to return my rental car. I can give your crew a ride to the airport when you’re ready.”

“Sounds good, Junior. We can be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

Jules began to pack the luggage, and Gary returned to his room to pack his own things. Rick made a call to his first mate Johnie in Key West. Before Rick, Jules, and Gary had traveled to South Africa to try and solve the murder of Ava Giovanni, they had thrown a substantial amount of Mayan gold overboard after their boat was attacked by Venezuelan pirates. They hadn’t had any choice because it wasn’t exactly legal to have it in their possession. Posses- sion was nine-tenths of the law. They had sunk it not too far from Key West and saved the GPS location just before the US Coast Guard escorted them back to dock, because of the damage done to the boat by the pirates. Johnie and Possum had stayed behind in Key West to oversee the repairs to Rick’s boat, Nine-Tenths. Possum was Rick’s old high school friend, now a part of his crew.

“This is Johnie. Thanks for calling Nine-Tenths. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Johnie, Rick here. How’s the repair going? Are we on schedule?”

“It’s going good, Rick. I was just about to call you. They have repaired the bow. I had them strengthen it more than it was when new. They’re not sure if they can match the paint exactly. Do you want to just repaint the entire boat or try and match it? If you wanna repaint it, what color?”

“Can we do a wrap instead of paint?”

“Great idea. We can use it like a floating billboard. Let me check with them. May have to take it somewhere else for that.”

“Okay, we have to leave for Zambia. It’s a long story. I’ll catch up with you later. Hopefully we won’t be here for more than a couple of weeks. I wanna get out there and recover that gold.”

“I did some research on where to buy an R.O.V., and you can’t just go pick them up at Costco. There is a research/ treasure-hunting ship for sale in The Mariner magazine. Let Gary know I emailed him the link. It has everything we’d ever need. An R.O.V. and a suction dredge. I called them to see if we could rent it.”

“I’ll let Gary know. You know how he feels about renting. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, Rick, y’all be careful out there. Let us know if you need anything. Possum went into town. I’ll let him know you called.”

Gary walked into the adjoining room, as if he were a psychic, as soon as Rick hung up.

“Hey, Rick, you wanna buy a ship?”

“How much? I assume you’re referring to the one Johnie emailed you?”

“Yep. That one was listed for $2.3 million, but it’s already off the market.”

“Oh, it’s sold, huh?”
“Yep, I bought it.”
“You what?! Oh my God. I haven’t even seen it.”
“You will. It’s up near Annapolis. I’m gonna have it delivered to Key West. We may need to hire a captain with a larger tonnage license,” said Gary.

“I know a guy named Larry Lane. I met him when I was working as a Tankerman on the Houston Ship Channel. He was first officer on one the Norwegian ships I was dis- charging. He’s from Tennessee and a super funny guy. He invited me up to the captain’s dining room for coffee one day after I’d been working on the barge for three straight days. I’ve stayed in touch with him for years. Last time I talked to him, he was close to retiring. He also has the treasure-hunting bug! I’ll text him.”

Rick texted Larry as they got in the car with Junior. He got no response, but it wasn’t unusual for Larry to take time to get back to him. Rick figured he was either in a honky-tonk in Nashville or underwater somewhere with his metal detector.

Junior let them off at the executive side of the airport and then went to return his rental car. Gary’s pilot Clay had already fueled up the jet and it was ready to go. Junior arrived about fifteen minutes later, and they were wheels up shortly after.

As the jet made the approach to Lusaka, everyone including Rick was plastered to the windows looking out at the vast African lands. Junior had gotten his SUV replaced by the insurance company, and it was waiting at an office for him to sign the papers.