Stalking Ivory (26 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Arruda

Tags: #Mystery, #Historical

BOOK: Stalking Ivory
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“You’re going to pay for that, bitch!” he yelled as he grabbed for her.

Again Jade danced out of his reach. This time she feinted with the right hand, then cut loose with another uppercut from her left, followed immediately with a hard right in a one-two punch. Once again she let the chain fly. It slammed into his lower jaw, causing him to bite his own tongue.

This time, not only the chain made contact, but her fist did as well. The combined force sent the man reeling. Smythe stumbled backward onto the hollow tree. The sudden impact sent just enough of a tremor up the trunk to knock loose the deadfall.

The log dropped, but because Smythe had his upper back against the tree, the log missed his head and only managed to conk him hard in the gut. He fell to the ground, yelling obscenities and swearing a torturous revenge on Jade.

She didn’t wait to hear them. By that time she was halfway up the ancient elephant trail following Boguli.

CHAPTER 27

The elephant trails on Marsabit are as wide as country roads and about as disorganized, meandering every which way, created as the mood hit someone. Happily, due to the scarcity of large predators, they are generally safe to travel on foot. Even the buffalo on the mountain are shy enough to retreat back into the brush rather than challenge you, unless they are wounded. It is dangerous to try to outrun a wounded bull buffalo. The better part of valor at this point is to stand and fight. That is, assuming you still have your rifle.

—The Traveler

S
AM FELT AS IF
he’d spent the last several days on the practice field nonstop with the Purdue Boilermakers’ football squad, only he was the tackle dummy. Every one of his muscles ached as though they had been repeatedly pummeled, which, when he stopped to think about it, was about right. But what ached more than anything else was his pride. Somehow showing the woman you found most desirable in the world that parts of your body came off didn’t seem like the best way to impress her.

That hadn’t been his original plan. Ever since Avery and Beverly had sent him their carbon copy of Madeline Thompson’s manuscript detailing their last adventure, he’d been head over heels for Jade. When they told him she had a fascination for airplanes and pilots, he’d decided he would win her. But, hell, if his buddy back home couldn’t rig up a plane to operate without foot pedals, he was as good as grounded himself, and now she knew it.

Well, no one could ever say that Sam Featherstone lacked courage and fortitude. He’d stuck by her, pushed his one and a half legs to their limit, and saved both their necks out in the desert. Now that she was safely guarded by Smythe, he’d do as she’d bidden and find that blasted Hascombe and search for that pit trap. After that, he intended to return promptly to Jade’s side.

I’ll be danged if I’m following Hascombe back to his compound for her to come and compare us side by side.
He figured his best chance to win her now was to see her and her friends safely back to Nairobi. If that didn’t work, then he’d slip away quietly and not come back until he could fly in.

Where the blazes is Hascombe?
Sam picked up a stiff fallen branch and used it to hoist himself up the last of the steep slope, thinking this should be the spot where Captain Smythe said he could find Harry. What he saw first was enough to take away what breath he had left, a stunning view of a blue-green oval lake replete with water lilies, moss-festooned trees, and flocks of waterfowl. The filmmaker in him wanted to set up a camera on the spot. Even as he watched, he saw gray shapes parading down to the water’s edge.
Elephants!

Then he heard people talking. Someone was coming around the rim trail hidden in the tree line. Sam recognized one of the voices and called out, “Hascombe!”

Harry stepped around and out into the open. “Featherstone? What the bloody blazes are you doing here?” Then he stopped and looked behind Sam. “Where’s Jade? Has something happened to her?” He ran the rest of the way to Sam, leaving his small crew behind.

Sam lowered his voice so only Harry could hear him. “Nothing recently, Hascombe, though we did run into some trouble in the northern desert. We escaped and made it back. Jade’s convinced that your German customers are involved with these poachers.”

Harry scowled and rubbed a large hand over his stubbled chin. “A day ago I would have thought she was imagining things, but the von Gretchmars have disappeared along with Vogelsanger.”

Heinrich Mueller and several Africans joined Harry. “We saw your wife, Liesel, when she came back to your camp with Mercedes. They’re both safe,” Sam said to reassure the man. He counted the number of Africans with them, only six. “Is this all of you, Hascombe?”

Harry nodded. “I sent my headman, Nakuru, and the rest of the porters off to the northern craters in case the others went in that direction.” He scowled at Sam from under his hat brim. “So, what’s this all about, Featherstone? What happened to you?”

Sam briefly related Jelani’s capture and their own escape, avoiding only the fact that he and Jade had initially doubled back to spy on Harry.
After all,
he thought,
Mueller might be a part of this yet.
“We followed your trail this way. Jade told me there’s an old pit trap exposed around the southern side of the crater. She thought it would be a place to look.”

“But you’re here alone,” Harry said. “Just where is our little Simba Jike now?”

“Where she can’t get into too much mischief. She’s with Captain Smythe. We ran into him over an hour ago. Smythe sent one of his native soldiers to guard the women at your camp, but he told me to find you and send you back to relieve his man so he and the rest would look for Mercedes’ parents.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “The hell you say!” he roared. “I ran into him first thing today. He’s the one who told us he’d seen von Gretchmar and his wife up on top here scouting elephants, but we can’t find any trace of them, or tracks that they’ve ever been here.”

“And you’ve been all over the crater?”

Harry nodded. “All I can figure is that he saw them head this way, but they changed course before they got there. We’d better get to that pit. They could be in there.”

“The question is,” said Sam, “did Vogelsanger toss them in alive?”

They hastened towards the place where Jade had said she’d found the pit, and kept a sharp eye out for Vogelsanger or any of the poachers. “There it is,” said Sam as the edge of the exposed trap first appeared.

Harry ran close and peered in. “Bloody hell,” he swore. “It’s Vogelsanger.”

Sam joined him. “He’s bound and unconscious, but still alive. Von Gretchmar must have gained the upper hand.”

“Yes,” said Harry, “but where’s von Gretchmar now?”

Two of the porters jumped into the pit and hoisted up the injured Prussian, then clambered out with the aid of their comrades. “Looks like he’s been hit over the head,” said Sam.

Harry untied Vogelsanger’s hands while Sam undid the man’s shirt and searched for wounds. “Probably some cracked ribs as well, judging by these bruises.” He splashed water from his canteen on the man’s face, then poured a bit into his mouth.

The Prussian sputtered, groaned, and opened his eyes. “
Mein Gott!
Thank heavens you found me,” he said with a moan.

“Where’s von Gretchmar and his wife?” said Harry. “Tell me what you did with them or you’re going to find yourself with something worse than a headache.”

Eric struggled to sit up, screamed in pain, groaned, and plopped onto his back again, his hand held at his chest. “I never found them. Some Englander hit me.”

Sam and Harry stared at each other. “An Englander?” repeated Harry.

“But the only other Englander left around here is Smythe,” said Sam. Suddenly his brows contracted in a scowl. “Then he’s…,” Sam mumbled as he comprehended the situation.

“That’s right,” growled Harry, “and our Jade is alone with him.”

Harry turned and barked a few orders to his gun bearer and Mueller. “You take Vogelsanger back to camp. If someone tries to shoot you, shoot ’em first.” He turned back to Sam and nodded at the Enfield in his hand. “You any good with that?” Sam nodded. Harry pulled his hat down firmly on his brow. “Then come on, Featherstone. There’s no time to waste.”

Sam followed as rapidly as he could, sliding back down the trail more than walking it. In his mind he kept replaying the look of intense hatred and rage in Jade’s eyes when she had brought Jelani back to him and her vow to kill whoever’d hurt the boy. As soon as Jade uncovered the truth, she’d stop at nothing to avenge Jelani. Sam only hoped he could reach her in time to stop her from crossing the line from self-defense into murder.

“Don’t worry about Jade. She can handle herself,” said Harry as if he read part of Sam’s thoughts.

“It’s not Jade I’m actually worried about,” said Sam. “It’s what she’ll do to Smythe that’s got me concerned.”

“What she doesn’t do, I intend to finish,” added Harry. “That man shot my cheetah.”

 

T
HE DEADFALL
had worked but in a limited way. It would be only a matter of seconds before Smythe was on his feet again and in pursuit. Jade regretted that his revolver had landed on the other side of her escape route; she’d have liked to have something more than her confiscated bow for a weapon. Thank the Lord and pompous officers that Smythe hadn’t had the foresight to take it away from her. If she could just get somewhere safe enough to lie in wait and get off a good shot. She’d have to rely on Boguli for that.

Would she be able to handle it? She’d pulled this bow only once before and that was to gently fire an arrow into Harry’s tent. It had at least a fifty-pound draw weight, and she was running low on energy now. If she tired too much, she’d never get the string back far enough to shoot with any decent force. She’d come close to breaking a cardinal rule of hunters everywhere: never go out with an untried weapon. In addition, her hands stung from the fisticuffs and her knuckles were swelling. She ripped a strip of fabric from her shirt and wrapped it three times around her right hand’s knuckles.

Ahead of her, Boguli darted along the ancient trail, his head turning from side to side as though he was searching for something. Behind her, she heard Smythe curse as he scrambled for his revolver. They needed to get out of his line of fire and soon. Almost as if he read her mind, the old man pointed to the right and waved his arm for her to hurry. They slipped into the darkness of the forest just as Jade heard a crack and a high, singing hum as a bullet flew past. It struck a tree with a dull thud.

She grabbed an arrow from her makeshift quiver and held it aloft for Boguli to see. He nodded and began a tortuous route winding back and forth among the trees, keeping the larger ones between them and the enraged captain. Jade, exhausted from her ordeals as well as lack of food and rest, relied on the sheer obedience of her leg muscles to propel her forward. But more than putting distance between her and Smythe, she longed to double back and catch him from behind. She unslung her bow as another bullet whizzed a few feet to her right. At least when she finally got a chance to shoot an arrow, there would be little sound to give her away.

Boguli led her up the hill, all the while avoiding the more well-traveled trails. He seemed to know exactly where the more secretive paths lay and led her into them by obscure routes that were harder for Smythe to spot than an obvious trail juncture. After nearly a quarter of an hour, Boguli suddenly crouched down behind a bush and motioned for Jade to do the same.

Relieved at the chance to catch her breath, Jade took advantage of the respite to nock her arrow. Boguli pointed to her right and slipped into the shadows, walking in a low crouch. Jade followed suit, making certain to keep her body well below the line of bushes. To her left came the sound of heavy footfalls and rapid breathing as Smythe came closer.

The bushes in this spot offered few gaps, and Jade had no intention of stepping in front of Smythe to try for a chest shot. She waited patiently until she heard him pass, counted silently to ten, then slipped out of the brush forty feet behind him. Using every ounce of strength, she drew the bow back to her cheek, sighted, and let fly.

That’s for Jelani!

Either the feathers in the fletching were twisted and worn from previous use, or the bowstring was not centered. Instead of flying true, the arrow dipped a bit to the left and struck Smythe in his left buttock rather than in his back as Jade had intended. She heard him scream in pain and rage as he grabbed for the arrow behind him. He turned and fired wildly into the brush, but by that time both Jade and Boguli had disappeared into the forest.

 

“K
EEP UP, MAN,”
Harry hollered over his shoulder to Sam.

The twisting nature of the game trail and the danger of racing headlong into a prowling leopard, a drowsy buffalo, or an ill-tempered cobra kept Hascombe to a brisk walk punctuated by brief jogs along the straighter patches. Sam, unable to run hard for any distance, and hampered by his growing exhaustion, lagged behind, relying more and more on the stout walking stick for support in order to keep up his speed.

“Dammit, Hascombe,” Sam panted, “you’re making enough noise to alert Smythe and his entire crew. Besides which, you’re running off blindly. You have no idea where to look for them now.”

The last part of Sam’s statement slowed Harry more than the first. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to wait for Sam. “Then tell me, Featherstone, and I’ll run ahead and intercept them.”

Sam caught up and took a moment to regain his breath. “The hell you will. You’re not charging in there without me.”

Harry’s smile was a devious sneer. “Afraid I’ll save her by myself and win her over, eh, Featherstone?”

Sam scowled. He really wanted to punch this man square in the jaw, but unfortunately, he needed him right now to save Jade. “No. I just don’t want your suicidal charge on my hands.”

Harry snorted. “To be sure.” He shot a look at Sam’s leg. “Seriously, man, are you going to make it? Did you sprain your ankle?”

Sam massaged his knee and upper thigh, checking that all the buckles and attachments that held his prosthetic limb were still in place. “Trust me when I say that I feel absolutely no pain in my ankle.”

“Well, I don’t intend to carry you,” said Harry as he turned aside and looked down the game trail. “And we can’t dawdle too much, noise or not. So just where are we going?”

Sam took another deep breath, straightened, and briefly studied the terrain. He recognized an offshoot trail as a path that led in one direction to his hidden Dodge, and in the other to the poachers’ cache. “To the villain’s lair,” said Sam. “This time, you follow me.”

 

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