Savage Son (James Reece #3) - Jack Carr Page 0,15

they ran into the wrong militia or were targeted by spetsnaz for asking too many questions about the mines. No matter. What did they expect, poking around in what amounted to a war zone in Central Africa?

A large white man who Aleksandr deduced to be from the Ural Mountains greeted them at the vehicles, shaking hands and introducing himself as Krysov Petrovich.

“Comrade Petrovich runs the mining operation. In the past seven months he has turned this into the most efficient and profitable diamond mining operation in the country,” Dobrynin declared.

Petrovich wiped his sweaty forehead with a dirty rag and stuffed it back in his pocket. Aleksandr noticed Dobrynin fish a bottle of hand sanitizer out of his suit pocked and squeeze a liberal amount into his palm.

“The workers are paid a generous sum for their labor, generous for this part of the world, anyway,” he continued.

“And theft? Is that a problem or are the wages enough to counter the temptation?” Aleksandr asked.

“Theft will always be a problem, Mister Zharkov,” Petrovich said. “We have the unfortunate task of using unorthodox methods to deal with thieves. Come.”

Petrovich led the way to what Aleksandr assumed to be roughly the center of the aboveground operation.

“These ungrateful savages still swallow raw diamonds to smuggle them out to sell on the black market. Every few months we need to remind the rest what happens to those who steal.”

Aleksandr watched as thirty workers exited the mine, filthy and thin, their eyes darting about like cornered animals. Desperate. Russian troops lined them up and shackled them to a rail obviously put there for this very reason. Each of the chained men was given a liter of a magnesium sulfate solution to drink, the equivalent of a medical bowel prep. Within twenty minutes, violent cramps preceded an eruption of watery human excrement. Three were found to have expelled the raw stones after the local guards sifted through the malodorous mess.

“What will happen to them?” Aleksandr asked as the three offenders were led away.

“It’s best if we show you,” Petrovich replied. “In the meantime, follow me.”

Aleksandr took the guided tour. Though he listened respectfully to the briefing on diamond mine production and expected output for the coming year, his mind was on the three men who had been removed for stealing; they looked fit enough, and living in this area meant they should have tracking and hunting skills.

Ideal candidates.

At the end of the shift, the entire workforce was assembled a few hundred yards away from the mine entrance, at the edge of a pit. They were addressed in their native dialect by the local militia leader under direct supervision of a Russian advisor. Aleksandr noted the quiet gloom that fell over the crowd. Death was in the air.

“What did he say?” Aleksandr asked.

“He said, ‘This is what happens to thieves.’ ”

“Who are they?” Aleksandr asked, pointing to three people lined up across the pit from the gathered crowd: a woman who appeared to be in her thirties, an old man, and a boy who could not have been much more than ten. Their hands and feet were bound, and one leg was secured via chain to rusting chunks of metal. They were naked.

“Those are relatives of the three pilferers. The militia pulled them from the villages. This is the only language these barbarians understand.”

The crowd started to protest and were silenced by a burst of automatic fire from a Russian advisor’s AK fired skyward.

Aleksandr watched as a beat-up pickup truck was backed through the crowd, the three diamond thieves shackled naked to its bed. When they saw their relatives at the edge of the pit their primal screams pierced the air, arms tugging in a futile attempt to break free.

“Quite the deterrent,” Dobrynin stated.

“Da, unpleasant but necessary,” responded Petrovich.

Aleksandr remained unfazed, even as three guards climbed into the truck, grabbing the heads of the shackled prisoners and forcing them to watch their relatives across the pit be beaten with clubs until they could no longer resist. The woman was the strongest; it took several clubs to the head before her will to fight subsided enough for the men to pick up the heavy metal objects to which they were shacked and throw them into the pit.

The Dorylus, better known as safari ants, are found primarily in Central and East Africa. Living in twenty-million-strong colonies they typically move from food source to food source throughout the year. These particular ants were fed well by design. They had no need to move. Their

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