Tall, Dark and Deadly Page 18

  Alex was a prisoner of the quicksand, fighting to stay upright as it crept around his waist. Dana flung herself onto the ground and grabbed his hand. She screamed at Mac. “Get the other hand, pull him out!” Hysterical with fear, she watched as Alex was pulled down, steadily, quickly, right in front of her. She couldn’t bear it. All her conflicting feelings about him surged into one overwhelming emotion—fear that she might lose him forever.

  “Help him, please help him,” she cried.

  Mac stood stoically above them, measuring Alex with his cold eyes. “Where’s the elephant?”

  “For God’s sake, Mac,” Dana cried. “He’s going under!”

  Mac didn’t move. “Tell me,” he insisted.

  “Pull me out,” Alex replied.

  “Stop it!” Dana screamed. “This isn’t the time for a battle of wills.” She held onto Alex’s hand, which was slippery in her grasp.

  “You’ll never find the elephant, Mac. I’d have to draw a map, and that would be a little difficult, considering—”

  “Tell me!” Mac insisted.

  “Dammit, man, don’t you understand? I can barely remember how to get there myself. Now pull me out of this bog, and I’ll take you to it. That’s our only chance. Otherwise I die, and you’ll never see the elephant.”

  Mac swore violently before reaching down for Alex’s free hand.

  “Dana, get out of the way,” Alex ordered. “Mac’s strong enough to pull me out of here on his own. Remember Kantana!” he cried out, as if the words were some kind of call to action.

  And they were! Dana realized it immediately. He wanted her to remember how she handled Kantana, running into the camp and taking him by surprise.

  As Mac grabbed for Alex’s hands, she saw the powerful muscles of the guide’s body tense, saw Alex reach up toward him. Just as the men’s hands touched, she flung herself at Mac, hitting him squarely in the back. At the same moment, Alex grabbed his hands and pulled.

  Mac sailed over Alex into the quicksand, hitting the surface headfirst, driven deeply into the swamp by his forward momentum.

  “Oh, God!” Dana screamed. “What can we do?”

  Her cries reverberated through the swamp as Mac struggled frantically to right himself. But his nose and mouth had filled with sand, and he never had a chance to breathe. All she could do was watch, horrified, as the greedy ooze sucked him down, squeezing the breath—and life—from him.

  “Close your eyes,” Alex shouted. “Don’t watch. There’s nothing you can do.”

  She turned away, covering her face with her hands, but she couldn’t shut out the sound of the bog claiming its victim, the slurping, gurgling sound of death.

  Finally she heard Alex’s voice. “He’s gone, Dana. It’s over, and it was quick.”

  She turned and dropped to her knees at the edge of the bog, holding out her hands to Alex again.

  “You’re not strong enough to get me out, Dana. It’s hopeless.” He clung with one hand to the root of a tree, but the bog oozed upward to his chest. “I want you to go now, take the elephant and try to make it across the border.”

  “No!” Dana cried out in frustration and rage. “Listen you fool, I don’t care about the elephant. I care about you, and I’m not letting you leave me, not when I finally know what I always believed was true—you’re not a murderer,” she cried. “I believed that all along, and now I’ll never let you go. Hold on, dammit,” she demanded, stretching out her hands toward him again.

  “This is no good, Dana,” Alex said as he slipped farther into the bog.

  “There must be something, some way,” she cried in frustration.

  “You could never pull me out of here. We need leverage.” He looked around frantically. “If only— I know! In the duffel bag, there’s rope—”

  Dana didn’t wait for him to finish. She grabbed the bag, rummaged through and found it.

  “Can you make a lasso?”

  She had already begun the knot. “I’m from Colorado, remember?” She completed the loop and stood up.

  “Toss it to me, carefully.”

  Dana had a better idea. “Hold your arms above your head,” she told him as she twirled the rope twice in the air and then sailed it toward him. The lasso settled lazily over his head.

  “I didn’t know you were a cowgirl,” Alex said as he secured it around his chest.

  “There’s a great deal you don’t know.” Dana wrapped the rope around a tree at the edge of the bog, braced her feet against solid ground and began to pull. Slowly Alex walked his hands along the rope. It was a grueling, inch-by-inch process, but they’d found the answer, and Dana knew that all she needed was enough resilience to keep pulling until he was free. She wound the rope once around her wrists and summoned up her strength for what lay ahead.

  * * *

  IT SEEMED LIKE HOURS later when a panting, exhausted Alex pulled himself onto dry land, collapsing beside Dana, who wrapped her arms around him. He was wet and filthy—but alive. She drew his face to hers and kissed him hungrily, holding on to him with all her might, as if she feared losing him again to the swamp.

  He tasted her tears as they kissed; he felt her tremble in his arms. Protectively, he gathered her closer.

  “You idiot,” she chided between kisses. “You took such a chance going into that quicksand.”

  “He was going to kill us and take off with the elephant. I had to do something to save myself—and you. I would never let anything happen to you.” He kissed her again, laughing at the picture they created, two dirty, bedraggled figures lying in each others’ arms in the depths of the sweltering swamp.

  “Well, you didn’t have to nearly die to make your point,” Dana said, still holding tightly.

  “That was a mistake,” he replied with a grin. “I meant to slip in at the edge of the bog and make it look like the quicksand had me. I went a little too far.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “But you saved me,” he told her, kissing her muddy face. “You’re quite a woman. Remind me to take you along next time I go into a swamp.”

  “I wouldn’t travel with anyone else,” she said, looking at him through tears of joy. “And I never thought you were a killer, Alex. Not deep in my heart.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Well, things looked pretty bad for you.”

  “I recall a moment there when they didn’t look so good for you,” Alex reminded her.

  “Did you really think I killed Louis?”

  “The thought crossed my mind, but you’re not a killer, either, Dana.”

  “What about Mac? I killed him, Alex.” Shivering, she hid her face against his chest.

  “We both did, Dana. We had no choice.” He held her close as she began to cry. He felt a tremendous wave of tenderness wash over him. Awkwardly, he patted her hair. “It’s all right, baby. We’re going to make it. We’re going to be okay.”

  She raised her tearstained face. “I’m so tired, Alex. I can’t keep going.”

  “Yes, you can. The old mission is on the other side of the river. Just a few more miles. We can do it, Dana.”

  “No, I can’t. I’m—”

  He kissed her gently on the lips. “Yes, you can. Together we can do anything.”

  “But we have to find the damned elephant, and—”

  Alex began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The elephant’s in the duffel bag.”

  * * *

  ALEX JOURDAN would have to die. It was the only way. He wouldn’t hand over the elephant without a fight. Even if he was subdued and the prize stolen, he’d take his revenge on the person who took it from him.

  And then there was Dana. She was the kind who’d have no hesitation about calling the authorities, alerting Interpol, insisting that the elephant end up in some damned museum. In her way, she was as dangerous as Alex.

  It would be just as easy to kill them both and leave their bodies to rot in the hot African sun.


  Chapter Eleven

  “I see the mission, Dana. Just over that rise.”

  Alex pulled her along toward their destination. Just one more obstacle, she thought, following an interminable morning when they’d crossed the final swamp bog and forded the Bonsuko River. She held on to Alex’s arm with both hands as he all but carried her over the final slope to the remains of the old Catholic mission.

  Once inside its crumbling walls, Dana collapsed on the ground, struggling to breathe evenly, trying to relax in spite of the fierce pain in her side and the cramps in her legs. “I’ll never walk normally again,” she said.

  Alex pulled her into his arms. “You can lean on me,” he said softly.

  “I’ve been leaning on you most of the day. Thanks for getting me here, Alex.”

  He smiled at her. “Thanks for saving my life.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Soon we’ll be out of here.”

  She looked around. “I suppose your pilot can find the place easy enough from the air. But is there room for a plane to land?”

  “Glenn’s an old bush pilot. He can put her down almost anywhere.”

  “You’re frowning,” Dana noted. “Does that mean you’re worried, too?”

  Alex got up after gently extricating himself from her tired arms and letting her lean back against a partial wall. He walked around the building and surveyed the surrounding area. “There’s a clearing over there. Come and see.”

  Dana moaned. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I can’t move.”

  “Two clearings, actually, this lower one and a plateau on the other side, with a deep gorge in between.”

  “Oh, great. The plane can fall in!”

  Alex laughed. “It was on the map. And a swinging bridge connects the flatlands and the plateau, just as the Pygmies told you. That gives us a natural landing strip on either side with plenty of room to put the plane down. We’ve got it made, Dana.”

  “Just so he lands on this side. I’m not much in the mood to cross the Pygmy bridge!”

  “Don’t worry. The mission is our landmark.” Alex came back and sat down beside her. “Glenn will be here. Next stop, civilization and the city of Nairobi.”

  Dana sighed and leaned against him, so happy to feel comfortable again at his side, wondering what was in store for them in Nairobi. “What will you do then?” she asked, not including herself.

  “Bathe. Shave. Eat. Sleep. And after that—” He gave her a sly look. “I expect to go out on the town with my partner.”

  “If I can walk.”

  “We’ll take a cab. To the best restaurant in town where we’ll eat rich food, drink mellow wines, dance exotic dances—”

  “My legs—”

  “I’ll hold you up. And we’ll kiss right on the dance floor and not care who sees—” A distant whirring noise interrupted him. “What’s that?”

  “The plane?” she asked.

  Alex shook his head. “Sounds more like a helicopter.” He stood up, and she struggled to her feet beside him, shielding her eyes against the sun.

  “It could still be him—couldn’t it?”

  “Glenn’s a bush pilot. He doesn’t fly helicopters.” Alex watched it approach. “Could be the police.”

  The noise got louder and louder, ear shattering when it hovered overhead.

  “He’s landing,” Alex said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadow of the crumbling walls.

  “Even if it’s the police, let’s go with them, Alex. We’re in Zaire. Kantana can’t get us here.”

  But Alex wasn’t listening; he was watching the chopper as it came down in a swirl of sand and dust. Dana huddled beside him, hands over her ears, eyes closed. The rapid whirring noise turned into a slow whoosh as Dana crouched behind the wall, watching for a sign of life.

  “Congo Waterways,” Alex read the name on the chopper. “It’s the touring company’s chopper. What the hell are they—”

  “They’ve come to rescue us, to get us out of here,” Dana cried, without stopping to think. “Look!” A large, middle-aged woman dressed in khaki emerged from the hatch. With a glad cry, Dana scrambled over the wall and toward her. “Millie! Millie, am I glad to see you!”

  Midway in her wild run, she caught sight of someone else getting out of the chopper behind Millie. It was Yassif! Dana stopped in midstride, and at that moment Alex hit her from behind and fell on top of her.

  They rolled over together in the dust, and then, half-crawling, Alex pulled Dana behind a section of wall, his hand on the back of her head, pushing it down. “Don’t look up,” he told her. “Yassif has a gun. Some kind of semiautomatic. He can blast us to mincemeat.”

  Dana struggled to get her breath. “Why would he shoot at us?” she cried.

  The answer was a barrage of bullets over their heads.

  Dana covered her ears and screamed. When the noise abated, she raised her head no more than an inch and shouted at Millie. “What the hell is going on? Are you insane? You should be helping us, not trying to kill us. What do you want?” Dana cried out in desperation.

  “The elephant,” Alex said. “She wants the damned elephant.”

  “Right, dear boy. Now hand it over.”

  Yassif punctuated the demand with another strafing from his gun.

  Alex pushed Dana down flat into the dirt, cursed profanely under his breath and pulled his gun out.

  “What good is that going to do against his weapon?” Dana asked. “All they have to do is kill us and take the elephant. We have nothing to negotiate with.”

  “But if you can keep her talking, maybe I can get around behind him.”

  “Alex—”

  “It’s our only chance.”

  Dana’s head was swimming. She couldn’t believe anything that had happened. “But Millie is my friend. She’s—”

  “A nut case who’s joined forces with a madman,” Alex told her. “Take my word for it. She’ll probably tell you herself if you can get her talking. I’m depending on you—again,” he whispered as he began to inch along the wall.

  They had nothing to lose now. She was as willing as Alex to gamble on Lady Luck one more time. Somehow, she wasn’t even afraid.

  “All right, Millie,” she called out in her loudest voice. “You can have the elephant. I hate it anyway. It’s brought me nothing but bad luck, and it’ll bring you the same.”

  “Never! It will buy me everything I need,” Millie shouted. “I had as much right to it as Louis!”

  “Millie, you didn’t kill him!”

  “Why not? I saw him steal the elephant. He had what I wanted, and I knew how to use a blowgun!”

  “And you let me take the blame?” Dana crouched behind the wall, anger replacing her earlier confidence.

  “You were a stranger and everyone wanted to believe you were guilty. That part was easy.”

  Dana remained hunched up, trying not to believe what she was hearing, while Alex crept with unbearable slowness along the wall.

  “What about Yassif?” she managed to ask.

  “He might not know much English, but he knows a great deal about choppers and guns. And the dear boy can read a map. He figured out you’d head here. It’s a known meeting place for smugglers and criminals.”

  “But Betty—”

  Millie’s laugh was shrill. “The golden elephant was much more interesting to him than Betty, believe me,” she said, snickering.

  Yassif let go with another round of bullets that scarred the earth in front of Dana.

  “He’s getting trigger-happy, darling. You better give us the elephant.”

  “Millie, wait—”

  Dana couldn’t stall much longer, and she sensed that Millie knew it.

  “Yassif’s had enough, dearie. And frankly, so have I. Give me the elephant and he’ll put away the gun.”

  Dana knew better. Yassif wouldn’t put down his gun until she and Alex lay bleeding to death under the hot African sun. As for Millie, she’d killed Louis in cold blood—and he was her fr
iend! Dana shuddered to think how easily she would kill a mere acquaintance—or direct Yassif to do it for her.

  She looked frantically toward Alex, her heart in her throat. At that moment he reached the end of the wall where he stood up, threw a rock into the dirt behind the helicopter and ducked down so quickly she hardly saw it happen.

  As Yassif turned toward the sound, his gun blazing, Alex began to shoot from behind the rock.

  Dana huddled against the wall, waiting for the end of the battle, waiting for the silence that never came. Instead, the earth began to rumble and vibrate.

  Forgetting the danger, she opened her eyes and looked over the rim of the wall as a shrill, maddened trumpeting filled the jungle.

  She saw the elephants coming. So did Millie and Yassif, who raced for their chopper. For one horrifying instant, Dana watched their hopeless race against thousands of tons of enraged and frightened animals.

  Alex was beside her instantly. “It’s the elephant hunt! The Pygmies are driving the whole herd this way,” Alex shouted.

  Dana knew that the elephants would crush the helicopter—and its passengers—like popcorn.

  Alex grabbed her hand. “We’re taking the bridge. The last I heard, elephants can’t fly.”

  Dana stumbled beside him, across the rocky soil toward the trees that edged the ravine. Behind them, she heard a hideous crunching as the elephants plowed into the chopper. Even above the trumpeting and pounding, she could hear the last dreadful screams of Millie and Yassif. And then silence. She didn’t look back.

  The rampaging elephants stopped for a moment, as if regrouping, and then turned and headed toward Alex and Dana, trampling everything in their path, filling the air with dust and shaking the earth with their deadly power.

  “Get on the bridge, Dana,” Alex yelled.

  She took one look at the flimsy and insubstantial vine bridge stretched across the chasm. Maybe it could hold a Pygmy, but their combined weight was too much.

  She balked.

  Alex shoved her hard. “Get going. Now!”

  Dana took her first shaky step, urged on by his command and the maddened trumpeting of the elephants.

  * * *

  ALEX KNEW as well as Dana that the vine bridge wasn’t made for people their size. It was little more than a swing, constructed from twisted vines and grasses into rope and strung from one side of the ravine to the other. The Pygmies—moving rapidly, one at a time—could cross it easily. Two normal-size people—trudging carefully, holding onto the handrails that were much too low for them—were another matter.