by Elle James
“I’m with you.” Pitbull took her hand and headed for the plane.
Marly had the airport operator top off her fuel tanks. Once that was complete, they boarded the plane, closed the door and took off for Kenya and the All Things Wild Resort.
“How long is the flight?”
“Two hours, give or take.”
He sat back, his mind off the aircraft operations and already thinking about what he’d do to her body when they got to his bungalow.
He couldn’t get enough of Marly Simpson, and he planned on making the most of what little time they had left together. At the end of their week, he’d say his goodbyes. He didn’t look forward to that part of this vacation. Well, he’d just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
The two hours passed quickly. Marly made a radio call to the resort frequency, letting them know she was on her way in. When they arrived back at the resort, they were met by Talia’s guards and Talia.
Marly powered down the plane while Pitbull unbuckled his seat belt and stepped past her to open the door.
Talia was first up the stairs. “I’m glad you two made it back safely. How was the flight?”
“Smooth,” Marly answered. “No problems.”
“I’m glad. I almost wish you had stayed a night or two in Kinshasa,” Talia said, her mouth turning downward at the corners.
Pitbull frowned, sensing the tension behind Talia’s words.
Talia led the way down the steps to the ground. “We had more trouble today.”
His gut knotting, Pitbull followed. “Anyone hurt?”
“Buck got nicked on the temple. Our local doctor checked him out. Luckily it was only a flesh wound.”
Flesh wound. Another inch in the wrong direction would have killed his friend and teammate.
Pitbull’s hands balled into fists. Once again, he hadn’t been with his teammates when they’d needed him. Lusting after a woman had sucked every last brain cell out of his head. He couldn’t do it again. At the end of the week, he had to let go of Marly or his team would suffer. He had to remain focused on missions.
Marly descended the steps and closed the airplane door. “You couldn’t have known it would happen again.”
“Yeah, but I could have been with them,” he said through gritted teeth.
“After chasing off the poachers yesterday, we thought for sure they wouldn’t be brazen enough to come back for more.” Talia laughed. “That’s what we get for being cocky.”
“But you had armed guards and SEALs,” Marly pointed out. “Surely that scared them off.”
“They were waiting for us in a dry creek bed near the road our safari tours travel on a regular basis. If not for your trained SEAL team, we’d be dead. The two guards wouldn’t have stood a chance. And if we had been with regular safari guests, they would all be dead.” Talia shoved a hand through her windblown hair. “The point is, don’t wander off. They’re out there. Waiting for God knows what. I’m putting my guards on a twenty-four-hour watch to protect your plane.”
“Thank you.” Marly was amazed at the lengths Talia would go to to protect her clients.
The resort owner turned toward the compound. “Come on, let’s get out of the sun. It’s too blazing hot to be out without a hat.”
The path from the runway to the house wound through a stand of trees, providing cooling shade from the heat of the late afternoon.
“This isn’t right,” Marly mused. “What do they want?”
“I don’t know.” Talia glanced through the trees as though she could see out to the rolling plains of the savanna. “Maybe they’re mad we got in the way of their plans.”
“Revenge?” Marly shook her head. “You’d think poachers are always on the run.”
“Retribution against a threat they weren’t expecting?” Pitbull suggested. “You would have turned around and gone back to the resort to report their activities if you’d had your normal clients on the safari.”
“But your team isn’t anything like our normal clients.” Talia shrugged. “They could have been after your team today.”
“Then we could have put your operation at risk by attacking theirs,” Pitbull concluded.
“Didn’t Diesel say he’d run into poachers in the jungle along the Congo?” Marly asked.
“Yes, and he managed to run them off.”
Talia’s eyebrows met in a V. “You don’t suppose they were the same poachers, do you?”
“What are the odds that the same group of poachers would be in the DRC and Kenya?”
“From what my guys said, the poachers were trying to take a baby elephant when my team stopped them. They had a truck with a trailer big enough for a baby, not a full-grown elephant.”
“They could have been after baby gorillas in the jungle,” Marly said.
“A ring of thieving baby snatchers?” Talia’s lips thinned into a straight line. “Bastards! These animals have enough of a hard time surviving their harsh environment without humans preying on them and their young.”
“No kidding,” Marly said.
Talia stopped before the gate to the resort compound. “The chef will have dinner ready in just a few minutes. You two look like you could use some time to freshen up. We won’t do formal wear tonight. We’re having a barbecue, so jeans are fine.”
“Great. I’d like to check in with my team first.” Pitbull took Marly’s hand and followed Talia to the gate.
As they entered the walled compound, Marly pulled her hand free. “I left my logbook in the plane. I’m way behind on tracking and would like to catch up this evening. I’ll only be a few minutes. Don’t wait on me.”
Talia frowned. “I need to get back to the kitchen. I promised to help set up the outdoor tables.”
Pitbull stopped and turned. “Go on, Talia. I’ll backtrack with Marly.”
“Pitbull!” Buck rose from a chair on the back patio and started toward them, a white gauze bandage wrapped around his head. “You missed all the fun.”
Marly touched Pitbull’s arm. “I can get the logbook myself.”
He grabbed her arm to keep her from going. “It’s not safe for you to be wandering around on your own.”
She shook loose of his grip and smiled. “I won’t be alone. The guards are out there, and I have my gun.” She patted the bulge beneath her arm. “I’ll be back in just a second.”
Marly took off at a jog back toward the plane. Before Pitbull could take off after her, Buck reached him and slung an arm over his shoulders. Buck faced the direction Pitbull was staring. “Where’s Marly going?”
“Back to her plane for her logbook.” He glanced at his friend. “Took one for the team, did you?”
Buck shrugged. “Just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”
“I hear it was an ambush.”
“Yeah. We didn’t see it coming. Being on vacation is making us lazy or something.”
“We’re not so much lazy as not expecting anything like that to happen,” Pitbull commented.
“Yeah, but we are in Africa. And we’ve seen how it’s not such a stable environment, given our run-in with the poachers yesterday. We should have been on our toes.” Buck grinned. “But we were hurrying toward a herd of giraffes. We were all staring at the giraffes, not our surroundings.”
Pitbull grinned. “A herd of giraffes?”
Buck’s lips formed a wry grin. “Yeah. They were amazing. I wish we could have seen more of them.”
“Maybe tomorrow?” Pitbull suggested. “Surely Talia can locate the herd again.”
Buck shook his head. “The gang decided they want to see Victoria Falls. You don’t suppose Marly would fly us down there? I mean, how often are we in Africa?” He paused and added, “On vacation.”
“Some vacation.” Pitbull laughed. “But it’s true. We don’t usually have free time w
hen we’re on the African continent. I’m sure Marly would take us. All we have to do is ask—”
The crack of gunfire sounded nearby, cutting off Pitbull’s last word.
“What the hell?” Pitbull spun toward the landing strip, just out of sight of the house, the trees and all their shade blocking his view. He didn’t wait for another shot to be fired. He ran back out of the gate and cut through the trees in a more direct path to the landing strip and Marly.
The sound of an engine firing up made his blood run icy cold. When he burst out onto the dirt landing strip, the plane was halfway down the runway, building up speed as it drew away from him.
Lying on the ground where the plane had been parked were the two guards, unmoving, their arms and legs at odd angles.
Dead.
Chapter Eleven
Marly had run all the way back to the plane, anxious to grab the logbook and get back to Pitbull. With time running short, she had only a few days with the man. She wanted to spend every second of it with him.
The guards stood near the plane, their weapons pointing at the ground. They appeared bored and hot. The afternoon sun beat down on them, making them sweat. Marly would ask Talia for bottled water for them. But first, she wanted her logbook.
She lowered the steps and climbed up into the plane. The logbook was in the pouch attached to the wall on the pilot’s side of the airplane. She settled into the cockpit and retrieved her logbook, checking over the instruments one more time just to be sure all was well.
Just when she leaned forward to stand, she heard the sharp report of gunfire.
She gasped and fell back into her seat, her heart racing so fast it made her dizzy. Marly forced herself to be calm and think. Two shots. She’d heard two shots. What did that mean?
Two guards stood outside.
She glanced through the windows toward the spot where the guards had been standing. They weren’t there. When she craned her neck, she could see lumps of khaki-colored uniforms on the ground.
Holy hell! The guards had been shot. Marly leaped out of her seat and ran down the aisle toward the door. She had to either get out and run for help, or close and lock the aircraft door to protect herself until someone came to her rescue.
She made it into the plane and was just about to pull up the steps into the craft, when seven men rushed the plane, stopping her before she could lock herself in.
The first one ran up the steps.
Marly planted a foot in his chest and kicked hard.
The man fell backward into his cohorts. The one behind him toppled into the one behind him, but the rest of them steadied the lead men and pushed them up and into the plane.
Marly had nowhere to go. She couldn’t duck past them and escape. She had a gun under her flight suit, but one gun against seven armed men would be setting herself up to be killed.
The man in the lead grabbed her arm and spun her around.
She fought against him, but he was much stronger. In the struggle, he discovered her weapon. While he held her arms behind her back, another man yanked down her zipper, removed the gun and pointed it at her head.
“Fly this plane,” he demanded, his voice heavy with a native accent.
“No,” she said.
“If you don’t,” the man with the gun said, “he will.” He nodded to the man holding her. “And it will mean certain death for all of us.”
“I’m not flying this plane,” she insisted.
“If you refuse to fly, we will wait for your friends to come, and then we’ll blow up this plane and all of them with this.” The gunman pulled a grenade from his pocket and held it up.
She said the first thing that came into her head. “You’re out of your mind.”
“We are very serious. Fly now, or you and your friends will all die.”
“As will you,” she pointed out.
“Do it now, before they come.” He poked her with her handgun. “We are not afraid to die.”
The man holding her lifted her off her feet and carried her to the pilot’s seat, where he shoved her down and braced his hands on her shoulders.
Marly didn’t have a choice. If she refused to fly, they’d kill themselves, her and the team when they attempted to storm the plane. If she flew away before the team reached them, she would be the only one in danger.
Marly started the engine, eased off the brake and taxied onto the dirt landing strip.
“Go!” The man with her gun bumped her temple with the barrel of the weapon.
“Knock me out and we’ll crash into the trees. Now back off,” she said, sounding a lot more confident and brazen than she felt. Inside, her stomach churned so badly she feared she’d throw up all over the instrument panel. Swallowing hard on the bile rising up her throat, she concentrated on getting the plane into the air and away from Pitbull and his friends. The farther away she got, the less chance of her captors detonating the grenade and killing the navy SEALs.
The plane picked up speed, racing toward the end of the runway. When she was going fast enough, she eased back on the yoke and the plane left the ground, soaring up into the air.
Marly dared to glance down at the ground in time to see Pitbull run out onto the landing strip.
He’d come after her. Marly’s heart swelled.
Not that it had done any good. But it made Marly feel a little better that he would have come to her rescue if he’d been given a chance.
The man holding the gun said something in Swahili and laughed. The others laughed with him. Still holding her pistol, he tossed the grenade to a man behind him.
Marly flinched, waiting for the explosion.
The men laughed again.
“Won’t that explode if you drop it?” she asked.
The man laughed again and held up his hand.
The grenade flew through the fuselage and landed in his grasp. He immediately dropped it into Marly’s lap.
She yelped and tried to jump up from her seat. The grenade slipped out of her lap, dropped to the floor beside her and bounced like a ball. The damned thing was made of rubber. They’d tricked her into taking off by threatening her with the explosion of a rubber ball.
She glared, making the men laugh harder.
“Fine. I’ll just land the plane.” She gripped the yoke and sent the plane into a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn.
The barrel of her handgun tapped her temple. “You will fly this plane to these coordinates.” He handed her a piece of torn paper.
She didn’t even bother to look at it. “Why should I? You can only kill me now that we’re away from the resort.”
“We have more men ready to attack your boyfriend and his American SEAL team. They do not belong in Africa.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” Marly asked. “You’ve lied before. And how do I know you won’t do it anyway? If I crash the plane, I take out the seven of you. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.” She pushed the yoke forward, sending the aircraft plummeting toward the ground.
While the men in the rear scrambled to hold on, Marly surreptitiously adjusted the transponder code to 7500, sending out a silent plea, indicating she’d been hijacked.
The man with the gun held on to the seat he stood behind and said something sharply in Swahili.
The big guy who’d originally lifted her off her feet and sat her in the pilot’s seat staggered to an upright position, grabbed her beneath her armpits and yanked her out of her seat.
The plane wobbled, but continued to dive toward the ground. The gunman dove into her seat and brought the aircraft under control. Again, he spoke in angry Swahili.
Her captor took off his T-shirt, ripped it into strips and tied her wrists.
Marly tried hard to leave a gap, but the man pulled tightly, the fabric seeming to cut into her skin. “You don’t know how to fly this plane,
” she said to the man in the pilot’s seat. “You might keep it level in the sky, but it’s a hell of a lot harder to land than it is to fly.”
He spoke again in Swahili. The man who’d torn his shirt tied one of the strips around her head and over her mouth.
It tasted of stale sweat and body odor.
Marly gagged, but couldn’t remove it. With her hands tied behind her back, she was limited in what she could do. But her feet were still free.
The big guy had shoved her into one of the seats behind the pilot’s seat. She couldn’t get away from these men, but she sure as hell could make sure they didn’t kidnap anyone else or any other baby animals. After hijacking a plane, they wouldn’t want to take the time to release her. Hell, they probably would have killed her already, but they had to get rid of the body. By keeping her alive, they were keeping her body fresh.
All these random thoughts raced through Marly’s head while she worked to get the nasty T-shirt material out of her mouth. If she was destined to die anyway, she might as well take them out with her and go down in a fiery crash. Besides, once they did get to where they were going, their plans for her couldn’t be good.
Scooting lower in the seat, she drew back her legs and threw a kick at the pilot’s head.
Contact!
The man’s head slammed forward, bounced against the yoke and back against the seat. The plane shimmied and dipped.
No sooner had she kicked the guy than the big man who’d tied her up with his smelly T-shirt backhanded her with a heavy fist. He hit her so hard, her head snapped back and her vision dimmed.
Still sitting in the chair, she tried to stay awake to keep track of what was going on with her plane.
The man hit her again. Pain shot through her right cheek and she fell back in the seat, slumped against the side of the plane and fought back the gray haze engulfing her.
But she couldn’t win the battle, and she slipped into empty, pain-free silence.
* * *
PITBULL RAN AFTER the plane, praying it would stop before it reached the end of the runway. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t catch up. Marly’s plane lifted up into the sky.
