Hugh exchanged a look with Josslyn. He indicated the replay monitor on the camera. She watched the video as one of the tribesmen seemed to be speaking into a walkie-talkie just before the gunman fired at Trevor.
Damn it. Josslyn looked over her shoulder, but the road was blessedly empty.
For now.
After gathering her long hair into a ponytail, she crouched down beside Alyssa, mostly to distract the young woman from the fact that Hugh was pulling a long gun from beneath the bench seat and moving to the back of the Land Rover, but also to help Trevor however she could. As a doctor of zoology, she didn’t quite have the extensive medical training the rest of her family possessed, but at least she wasn’t squeamish around blood.
“What can I do?”
“Move the sweatshirt from beneath his head to his feet,” Alyssa commanded. “I think there’s a Mylar blanket in the first aid kit. We’ll need it to cover him to keep the shock at bay.” The younger woman’s hands were now soaked with blood from where she was applying pressure to Trevor’s wound. “And I’m going to need your T-shirt.”
Doing as she was told, Josslyn stripped off her shirt, exposing her skin to the harsh African sun. Hugh tossed his T-shirt to Alyssa as well. Between the two of them, they did their best to keep Trevor comfortable while the Land Rover barreled ahead, seeming to find every rut in the road as they sped toward help.
“We’ve got company,” Hugh announced forty minutes into their mad dash.
A small dust cloud rose up along the horizon behind them. It was difficult to judge their distance, but whoever they were sharing the road with was coming at a fast clip. Josslyn glanced down at Trevor. A sheen of sweat covered his face despite the fact he was shivering beneath the blanket. Except to change out the T-shirts, Alyssa’s hands never let up their compression on the wound. Her expression was fierce.
Josslyn checked the GPS screen on the dashboard. They were still some twenty miles from the capital. But twenty miles could take another hour on these roads. It was a crapshoot whether their guide could outrun whoever was chasing them. Hugh hefted the long gun into his lap.
Pulling her cell phone from her shorts, Josslyn fingered the app her brother-in-law insisted she install on her phone. There would be hell to pay, but she couldn’t justify putting the others at risk. The one time in her twenty-eight years Josslyn was actually doing something worthwhile with her career, yet she still managed to potentially touch off an international incident. Her older sister’s lecture was already playing out in Josslyn’s head when she tapped the button.
Fifteen minutes later, the dust cloud was closing the distance on them. Josslyn could make out two Jeeps filled with military-looking personnel likely belonging to the tribal militia. Hugh turned to say something when the sound of a propeller roared overhead. She let out a sigh of relief at the sight of two Blackhawk helicopters coming their way.
“Slow down,” she called to the guide as one of the choppers went on to circle the group following them.
The other helicopter landed on the roadway a half mile ahead of the Land Rover. Four United States Marines, dressed in full-battle dress uniforms leaped from the cabin before it hit the ground. Guns at the ready, they surrounded the Jeep.
Hugh and the driver quickly lifted their hands into the air. Alyssa’s mouth dropped open in what was either awe or hysteria, Josslyn wasn’t exactly sure.
“We need a stretcher,” Josslyn shouted over the noise of the helicopter rotor. “We have an injured man here.”
In a matter of minutes, the marines expertly loaded Trevor and the rest of her team onto the helicopter. The militia following them was reduced to specs on the sand as the chopper took to the air.
“Dr. Doolittle has been retrieved,” the mission commander relayed to whoever was listening. “ETA five minutes.”
Josslyn flinched slightly at the ridiculous code name she was assigned. Alyssa shot her a bewildered glance before leaning down to help the medic attending to Trevor.
“We were set up,” Hugh muttered from where he sat on the bench beside her. “Ngoni had no intention of bringing the supplier to meet us.”
“Or someone got to him,” she whispered back, hoping they were both wrong.
Ngoni was eleven, a young African tribesman doing whatever he could to survive in a hierarchal economy stacked against him. Even if it meant selling exotic, endangered animals, dead or alive. Josslyn hoped he hadn’t become a tragedy in her quest to get justice for the animals by exposing the international ring.
“All the same,” Hugh replied. “We need to lay low for the time being.”
“Nonsense. We have the perfect cover studying the African elephants’ diminishing habitat,” Josslyn reassured the cameraman. “Anyone could have stumbled over poachers. As far as anyone knows, today was a horrible accident. We can’t stop now that we are so close.”
“Don’t be daft, lass,” he whispered. “These thugs are nasty individuals. Animal trafficking is big business right behind trafficking illegal drugs and guns. They don’t want anyone poking their noses in their lucrative operation. Especially someone with your family’s connections.”
Your family’s connections. Those “connections” loomed over every aspect of Josslyn’s life. It didn’t matter that she was a top-notch zoologist. She was forever defined by the people who shared her DNA. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“No,” Hugh continued, his tone adamant. “It’s getting too dangerous to have you helping us any longer. You best go home and attack this from the other direction. Chase the clues leading to those people funding this organization.”
Josslyn squared her shoulders. Saving animals was her passion, her cause, her reason for getting up in the morning. This syndicate only cared about making money. And lots of it. Whether or not an animal suffered or a species became extinct had no bearing on their illegal enterprise. The animals needed someone to stand up for them. And Josslyn never backed down from a fight—no matter her family connections.
“Our first priority is to make sure Trevor gets medical attention,” she answered. “That will give us time to regroup and ‘lay low’ as you suggest. But I’m not going anywhere. I answer to no one but my own conscience. And my conscience won’t rest until these criminals are revealed. My family thinks I’m here with the Smithsonian filming a documentary.” She patted Hugh’s thigh. “Everything will be fine.”
Hugh gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her. Not that she blamed him. This wasn’t the first time Josslyn found herself at the mercy of the US military and, based on past experience, there would be a long mea culpa period before her family let her forget it.
But at least this time, she was in no danger of getting her heart broken by her rescuer.
She glanced around at the men and women aboard the helicopter. Despite feeling decidedly vulnerable dressed only in khaki shorts and a black lace bra, she was relieved the crew remained stoic and professional. There would be no earth-shattering kisses this time around. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or dismayed. Josslyn stifled the urge to wave at the commander’s body camera which was likely broadcasting her scantily clad image back to the States. But only because she meant what she said to Hugh about staying to see this thing through. Aggravating her family further wouldn’t get her a longer hall pass.