Deadly Safari

by Lisa Harris

  “Thanks. My wife took most of them.”

  “She’s definitely talented.”

  “She’s won a few awards over the years, but I think she just likes being out there in the bush. She’s visiting her sister in Cape Town with our kids at the moment, but she grew up on this reserve and spends a lot of time outdoors. She’s been gone less than a week, and I’m sure she misses the bush more than she misses me.”

  Alex chuckled. “I don’t blame her. It’s beautiful here.”

  “She was the third generation to be born and raised here. We took over the day-to-day running of the reserve when my in-laws retired five years ago.”

  Alex’s gaze shifted to a large family photo with the familiar thatched lodge in the background.

  “Looks like a family affair.”

  Ian laughed. “It is. My brother-in-law lives in Johannesburg, working in accounting. He does all the books for the reserve. Here, with the help of a handful of cousins and second cousins, we deal with everything—food, employees, maintenance, marketing and the conservation project, not to mention the animals, employees and volunteers. The to-do list never ends when it comes to running a business like this.”

  “But you enjoy it?”

  Ian sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Despite the challenges, yes. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Meghan’s told me a little about the issues you and the other game reserves across the country have been facing with poachers.”

  “Men have been injured and even killed trying to stop them, not to mention the hundreds of rhinos they continue to slaughter.” Ian shook his head. “It’s a different world from what it was when my in-laws ran the reserve. Before 2008, there were on average a dozen rhinos poached every year. That number alone was tragic, but recently, those numbers have skyrocketed into the hundreds every year.”

  Alex sat down in the chair across the desk from Ian. “Who’s behind the attacks?”

  “Wildlife trafficking has become big money.” Ian picked up a pen from his desk and started clicking the end. “With rhino horns worth more than heroin ounce for ounce, organized-crime syndicates have gotten involved. Police have arrested everyone from local game farmers to mercenaries to veterinarians, government officials and kingpins. It’s all a game of profit.”

  “What kind of profit are we talking about?”

  “Somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen billion American dollars a year. Right behind drugs, guns and human trafficking.”

  Alex let out a low whistle. “And this is all to keep up the demand for some Asian medicinal practices?”

  Ian dropped the pen back onto his desk and nodded. “Powdered rhino horn has become a status symbol for the rich. It’s touted as a cure for cancer and a treatment for high fever—neither of which has been scientifically proven, despite many, many tests. They spice their drinks with rhino-horn powder believing it will make them more virile. Mixed with water or alcohol, it’s used as a health boost or a cure for a hangover. I’ve even heard of it being given as an expensive gift or used as informal currency.”

  Alex shook his head. The whole idea seemed crazy.

  “Little do they know,” Ian continued, “that the rhino who produced the horn has typically been shot dead with an assault rifle by corrupt game-industry professionals and processed into powder by a crime syndicate. It’s become an entire system of middlemen buyers, exporters and couriers that can get the horns from South Africa to Vietnam in less than twenty-four hours, and the demand just keeps rising, leading to more poaching. In another five years, if it isn’t stopped, the rhino population will start shrinking until they are gone.”

  Alex leaned forward. He might not be here to deal with this issue, but the more he understood about the situation, the more he would know what he was up against when it came to keeping Meghan safe. “Is it just the rhinos they’re after?”

  “Lions are another hot commodity, as a collector’s item rather than as a health aid. A complete skeleton can fetch up to ten thousand dollars.”

  “Wow. And what about your reserve? What kind of security have you implemented?”

  “Everything I can manage financially. We’ve hired extra guards, bought GPS trackers for the rhinos, along with hidden cameras. We also try to stay under the radar and not broadcast how many rhinos we have. We check on them every day, tracking them by GPS. On top of that, we’re in the process of ensuring all of our lodge staff receives antipoaching training. But there is only so much we can do. The crime syndicates supporting the poachers have deep pockets and can afford better resources than I can. So far we’ve lost two rhinos, and with the way things are going, they probably won’t be the last.”

  “Meghan told me about the man who was killed on a nearby reserve.”

  “Did she tell you how?” Ian leaned forward. “The rhino carcass was booby-trapped with a hand grenade to scare off the response team. He died instantly. It was a wonder more weren’t killed in the blast.”

  The entire issue seemed daunting. “My family owns a ranch back in Texas, but I have to say that our poaching problems aren’t nearly as serious as the ones you’re facing right now.”

  “I guess you documentary people are always full of questions. Looking at doing a documentary on the rhino crisis after this project?”

  “No.” Alex weighed his options. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone who he was, but he needed inside information, which meant he was going to have to trust Ian. “There’s something you need to know about me.”

  Ian’s brow rose in question.

  “The real reason I’m here,” Alex continued, “has nothing to do with Meghan’s documentary—or rhino poaching, for that matter. In fact, to be honest, I’ve never had experience with filming wildlife. I’m a Texas Ranger from the United States.”

  “A Texas Ranger?”

  “I’m here unofficially as a favor to Meghan’s father.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Meghan’s father is the U.S. Ambassador to Equatorial Guinea. There have been a number of threats made against his life and against his daughter in connection to the upcoming election.”

  “So he hired you to protect her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does Meghan think about this?”

  “That’s part of my issue.” Alex hesitated. “Their relationship is a bit shaky, so her father doesn’t want her to know.”

  “You haven’t told her?”

  “Until I know if the threats against her are viable, I’m respecting her father’s wishes. But as you know, there have been a number of incidents surrounding Meghan lately.”

  Ian nodded. “Like the brakes going out on the Jeep.”

  “Exactly. Meghan insists that she’s accident-prone, and maybe she’s right that I’m a bit of a worrywart, but I need to see if we are looking at a specific threat against her that is tied to her father, a connection to the poachers who want her and her cameras out of their way, or if she really is just accident-prone and all of this is nothing more than a coincidence.”

  Ian let out a low laugh and folded his arms across his chest. “I realize that this is a serious issue, but if you ask me, I know Meghan, and you’ve got your hands full protecting her, whether she knows why you’re doing it or not. She’s spirited, independent and a real go-getter.”

  “Tell me about it.” Alex felt some of the tension in his shoulders release. He’d done the right thing in talking with Ian. “I know her father has his reasons, but if I find her life is in danger, I will need to tell her. Which is why I felt I needed to talk to you.”

  “So you believe that the fallen hide and the brakes, for example, could be sabotage?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Let’s say they are some kind of threat against her. What would the point be?”

  “That’s what I need to find out, but a lot depends on who is responsible. It could simply be motivated by a determination to show her father that they are here and can get
to her. He’s being pressed to back the opposition in an upcoming election.”

  Maybe he was reading too much into this, but experience had told him to never to dismiss coincidences. More than likely, he was looking at two very separate situations. One, poachers doing what man had done for thousands of years. Two, viable threats against a man’s daughter to manipulate the ambassador’s actions.

  But he also couldn’t ignore the possible connection between the poaching and the upcoming election in Equatorial Guinea. If crime syndicates had started working with game-farm owners and vets, as Ian had implied, countries like Equatorial Guinea with lax policies on trafficking became a safe haven for those involved. He’d spent time reading up on the new regime trying to come to power—a regime with known ties to an international crime syndicate.

  With the election looming, he needed to figure out how all of this fit together before danger struck again.

  EIGHT

  Six days later, Meghan leaned back against the raised seat of the open Jeep behind their driver while the crisp night air whipped through her fleece jacket. Above them hung the African sky, thousands of dots of light illuminating the familiar southern hemisphere with its arced Milky Way, famed Southern Cross and dozens of silvery nebulae and star clusters. With Kate battling a cold and needing to take some time off, tonight was the first time Meghan had gone out into the bush alone with Alex since his arrival—a situation that had her feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

  Samuel drove them down the narrow trail, heading northwest toward where the transmitter had picked up Kibibi and her cubs. In the past week, they’d captured several more hours of footage of the family as they waited for Kibibi to introduce her babies to the pride. And while the week had thankfully passed with no more “coincidental” disasters or even any signs of poachers, she’d found herself continually struggling with the draw she felt toward the man now sitting beside her.

  Which meant Kate hadn’t stopped teasing Meghan, insisting she had a crush on Mr. Cowboy. But she’d yet to define her feelings. It wasn’t just the fact that he was handsome, smart and had a Southern drawl that had her mesmerized. Instead it was his seeking faith, love of family and even his ridiculously overprotective stance toward her that had her wanting to take the time to delve deeper into what was behind that cowboy exterior. So far, she’d barely scratched the surface.

  She snuck a glance at his profile. He still looked like a transplant from Texas with his denim jacket and cowboy hat, but after a week of shooting footage in the bush, he’d disproved her fears and proved to be both capable and hardworking. And while she might not be desperate for romance or even looking for a relationship, Alex had managed to awaken a piece of her heart she’d thought impossible to revive. He’d made her want to stop running. Made her feel safe.

  A monkey hollered in the distance, in sync with the rest of the night’s symphony pulsing around them with constant roars, chirps and whistles.

  “So what do you think so far about your first night drive?” she asked.

  The moonlight caught his smile. “It’s incredible. I’ve seen animals on my father’s ranch—wolves, deer, wild hogs—and of course I’ve watched the occasional African documentary on Animal Planet, but seeing the animals up close is different. And at night…this is like another world. A wild combination of fierce beauty and a rivaled fight for survival.”

  Samuel’s spotlight caught a termite-eating aardvark—rarely seen in the daylight—skittering across the trail in front of them before vanishing into the thick bush. Alex’s description was right. During the day, the animals tended to sleep. Night was completely different as the nocturnal animals took on the role of hunters in the cooler temperatures. Even the background music had changed from the constant chirping of birds to the haunting roars of the cats, whistling of insects and the occasional growl.

  Samuel slowed down as the red-filtered headlights caught a rhino wallowing in the mud, casting a hint of color to the night’s gray shadows.

  “Why the red light?” Alex asked.

  She searched the tree line for movement. “A bright, white light would startle them, but they don’t react to the red.”

  A full moon hung above the conglomeration of stars, a subtle reminder of the afternoon he’d arrived when he’d tried to save her from the charging rhino. That night she’d introduced him to Becky, the warthog, and they’d ended up laughing in the rain. Had it only been a week ago that they’d first met?

  “What made you decide to come to Africa?” he asked.

  She turned back to him. His question surprised her. Except for that first night, most of their conversations had tended to edge away from the personal. “Not only did my father grow up in Africa, his work often brought him here, as well. But while he traveled extensively, most of the time I was stuck in some boarding school or living with my aunt in Southern California.”

  “So you never traveled with him?”

  Meghan ignored the pang of regret wanting to surface. “He knew I loved traveling, so he did take me with him a couple times. Paris…Venice…Cairo. Each city completely captivated me. I knew that I wanted to do something one day that would allow me to see the world. Africa was always on the top of that list.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve been doing just that.”

  “When I graduated from college, my father connected me with a film company in the States and helped me get my first job as a production assistant.”

  “Which is short for gofer, I understand. Go for this—”

  “Very funny.” She laughed and felt her heart take a nosedive. “My first assignment didn’t have the stunning backdrop of the bush. Instead, we were filming in Africa’s largest urban slum in Nairobi. What about you? Your skill set seems petty diverse. Photography, ranching and my all-time favorite, paperwork. You’ve never really told me what you do for a living.”

  *

  Alex hesitated with his response. It was the question he’d been expecting. For the past week, he’d managed to keep their conversations on the surface, enough to begin getting to know her without going too deep. Because as much as he wanted to learn everything there was about her, if he started asking personal questions, she’d do the same thing. It had been easy to keep things light with Kate in the vehicle with them. But something about tonight made him want to take a chance and delve deeper.

  He stared out into the darkness, trying to form the answer he’d rehearsed a hundred times. He’d spoken to her father again last night. The wave of worry after the first couple days had subsided, making him wonder if the threats he’d received on her life had been nothing more than idle words meant to scare.

  He still hadn’t dismissed the connection between the poachers and the election, or the possibility that her string of bad luck was connected to those threats. But so far—including the crashed Jeep—he’d been unable to discover any tangible evidence of sabotage. And there was another issue behind the threats he had to consider. Kill Meghan and there would be no leverage. Abduct her and the captors would face unwanted scrutiny. He assumed they’d want to avoid both.

  He shifted his thoughts back to her question.

  “Believe it or not,” he began, “I graduated with a degree in finance. Had my sights on Wall Street.”

  “Wall Street?” He caught the surprise in her voice. “I’m not sure I can see you sitting in an office all day long.”

  “Turns out I couldn’t. I spent three months in New York then headed back to Texas. Couldn’t handle the pace.”

  Wind whipped through her hair and the moonlight caught her smile. “So what did you do from there?”

  “Went back to work for my father on the family ranch.”

  He wanted to tell her he’d spent that first six months reevaluating his life. That eventually he’d decided to follow his uncle’s footsteps and join the police force, a move that had ultimately changed his life. He’d discovered a deep-seated need to ensure justice prevailed, taking pride in ridding the world of those w
ho preyed on the weak.

  But he couldn’t tell her any of that.

  “Up ahead.” Samuel pointed the spotlight into an opening in the bush. “To your right.”

  “Is it your lions?” Alex sucked in a breath, thankful for the distraction.

  “Leopard.” Meghan jutted her chin toward the animal, her video camera already going.

  Alex caught the glint of the cat’s eyes and started taking photos, hoping he could remember how to incorporate the tips she’d given him on shooting photos at night. His pulse raced. He hadn’t expected the adrenaline rush the encounter produced. He hadn’t expected that being here—with her—would affect him the way it was. Which was why, over the past week, he’d had to continually remind himself of the reason he was here. All he had to do was his job. Keep her safe until the election was over. Nothing more.

  As moved as he was by the night air, the lure of his mother’s homeland seeping through his veins, or simply the woman sitting beside him, this would be over soon. Elections would be held in another week. She’d be done filming a couple weeks after that. There was no reason for him to stay once his obligations had been fulfilled. And there would be no reason to ever see Meghan again.

  The Jeep’s headlights caught the muscular body of the leopard. Bulky, sleek, it walked within six feet of the Jeep, crossed in front of them with barely a glance in their direction.

  A second later, it was gone.

  Alex let the air out of his lungs. “I would have said it was a cheetah.”

  “Samuel’s a better guide than I am, but the first difference is the spots, right, Samuel?”

  Samuel nodded. “Leopards’ spots are rosette-shaped, while cheetahs’ markings are more round or oval. They also have tear lines that run from their eyes to their mouths. If you look at them side by side, you’ll also see the leopards are bulkier, while cheetahs are lighter and taller.”

  “And the differences don’t end with the physical characteristics,” Meghan added. “Leopards hunt at night, while cheetahs hunt primarily during the day. Leopards are more solitary, climb trees and run a lot slower than cheetahs.”