Pride of the Veld

of here.” He paused, giving the other man a chance to relax, thinking that Danie had fallen for his bullshit. “Where did you say you left it?”
    The man instantly whipped his head around, looking slightly south of the camp. He turned sheepishly back, “Um… it’s… I’m…” It was enough. If they were there, Danie would find them, but first things first.
    The man was still blustering when the rifle butt struck him on the chin, leaving him out cold, lying across the bank. Danie paused long enough to strip him of anything useful or dangerous.
    “Hope you’re awake before the dinner rush… friend .”
    ****
    Geo’s heart skittered. He’d worked his way to the top of the outcropping above their camp, the one that Danie had waved from. He had a perfect view of the action below and what he was seeing turned his stomach and made his skin crawl. There were two men in the middle of their camp. Geo didn’t recognize either one, but it hardly mattered since their intentions were obvious.
    Andrea was lying face down on the packed earth next to the Range Rover. One of the men knelt on his back keeping his arms twisted behind his back. Even from this distance Geo could make out Andrea’s cursing and struggling to get free.
    Geo considered his options. He had the range with his rifle. He could take out the man waving his own weapon at Andrea’s head, though there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t get off a round of his own, and Andrea was much closer to the end of that barrel than Geo could risk. It was bad enough that a bright red bloom was soaking the white bandage around the man’s arm; Geo couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him more.
    The man with the rifle was tall. He towered over the scene in faded safari gear, the khaki cotton almost bone white. He had a bush hat pulled low over his sunglasses and sprouted a sparse beard, like he hadn’t shaved in a week. His high-powered rifle was pointed at Andrea’s head.
    Whatever he wanted, Andrea wasn’t giving it up. In apparent frustration, the man stalked over and kicked Andrea in his injured arm. The howl that rose up as blood gushed through the saturated bandage and pooled in the dust made Geo sick. He couldn’t bear to leave him like this. With the other man distracted, it was his best chance. He’d have cover if he came up from behind the Rover.
    It looked like they’d pulled Andrea off the truck and onto the ground. Geo looked at the satellite phones mournfully. They should have kept them on them. Both he and Danie knew better. When Oupa found out, they’d never hear the end of it.
    If he snuck up behind the vehicle, he’d have half a chance to slip one of the phones off the roof before retreating back in to the bush to call Oupa. They needed help. God only knew what Danie was up to, but he probably wouldn’t come after him for another half-hour or forty-five minutes.
    He probably thinks we’re enjoying a nooner without him. Geo sighed and made his way backwards until he was under cover and moving silently into position.
    Pressed belly flat against the ground, he was blind. He could hear Andrea cursing in Italian and the other man yelling at him in English to shut up and lay still, but with such a thick accent that Geo wasn’t sure what else he wanted. The man pinning Andrea was communicating in staccato bursts of grunts and curses, as the photographer hadn’t stopped struggling.
    The only chance they had was to call for help and for him to make it back to Danie in once piece. His one shot to save Andrea from a violent beating or worse was to create a distraction in the hope that the Italian could break free. He held his breath and waited for another burst of vitriol from the African before launching himself upright, grabbing the phone, and taking off into the bush like a shot.
    Geo could hear the snapping of dried branches and shouting coming from behind him as he tore through the underbrush. Rifle fire cracked, sending a flock of birds exploding from the trees and breaching the noise of blood pounding in his ears.
    Drawing danger away from Andrea seemed to be working, but the stranger in pursuit wasn’t a novice when it came to shooting animals in the wild. He’d felt the heat of that bullet sing past his ear before embedding to the soft bark of a thorn tree. He dropped down and scrambled under the branches of a bush, thorns tearing furrows into his tan skin. Crap .
    He hadn’t had a moment to make the call, and time was running out.