‘Holy f**k, what a circus,’ Kevin said from the back seat.
It was a protest. Men, women and children of all ages emerged from the car park and picnic area at the sight of a four-wheel drive full of men in uniform.
‘Stop the cull! Stop the cull! Stop the cull!’ they chanted, their voices growing stronger by the second as more and more of the demonstrators found a target for their frustrations.
It was the first glitch in the plan. Alex had intended on dropping Henri, Heinrich, Kevin and Kobus at the camp while he went to the operational control post for the cull, which was located nearby at Satara’s dirt airstrip. He’d figured that if he showed up in a rental vehicle with the correct number of people for the public relations team – himself, Kufa and Novak – he would have an easier time ge
