Chapter 17

Skukuza. Ranger station. Gustav’s office

There was something about Gustav’s office that always made me feel as though I’d stepped into the war room of a campaign rather than a ranger station in the middle of the bush.

The room smelled faintly of old paper, coffee that had been left standing too long, and the dry, sun-baked dust that seemed to cling to everything in Skukuza. Maps covered almost every inch of the walls—Kruger spread out in green and ochre veins, dotted with coloured pins, scribbled notes, and circles drawn in thick red marker around the problem areas. Through the open window, the distant thrum of cicadas and the occasional cry of a hornbill drifted in, mixing strangely with the hum of the ceiling fan that rotated with lazy indifference overhead.

We were all gathered around Gustav’s scarred conference table.

Gustav sat at the head, broad shoulders squared, reading glasses halfway down his nose like some battlefield general reviewing troop movements. Wolfie sat to his right, arms folded and face unreadable as ever. Steve leaned back in his chair with the kind of ease that suggested he either had supreme confidence or absolutely no concern for consequences.

Kait sat opposite me.

And me?

I was trying very hard to focus on the meeting and not on the way the morning light caught the copper strands in her hair.

Trying. Not always succeeding.

“My teams are already at the different sites of concern. Three camps needed to be drained, and they had started this morning at 07:00 to drain the camps,” Steve reported, his deep voice filling the room. He tapped a finger on one of the maps for emphasis. “Only Sirheni still needs to be breached. The holes for the cracking agent have been drilled, and the delivery of the bags is expected today.”

“Good!” Gustav said with a decisive nod, though it was clear he was replying more to his own assessment than to anyone else.

Then he turned his attention to Kait.

“Are you done with your survey, Miss Fourie, or is there something else to take care of?”

Kait straightened slightly in her chair. Calm. Professional. Completely composed.

“No, I’m done.”

Done.

The word landed in my head with far more weight than it should have.

Done meant she’d be leaving.

Gustav steepled his fingers and regarded her over the top of his glasses.

“But you will be staying on, I suppose...”

There was just enough of a pause to make me suspicious that the old fox knew exactly what he was doing.

Kait shook her head lightly.

“I need to bum a lift over to Sabi Sabi to get my personal bakkie from there.”

I should have known what was coming next.

Gustav slowly turned his head toward me.

The man didn’t even need to speak at first. That raised eyebrow of his had become legendary around the station.

“I think Adrian can assist you there...”

Every eye in the room shifted to me.

Perfect.

“Yeah ... sure,” I said, trying for casual and probably landing somewhere closer to resigned. “The one Squirrel is scheduled for a five-hundred-hour inspection, and the other one will be deployed to Punda Maria to assist in the game darting mission there.”

Gustav nodded. “So that leaves only your bird available for rapid deployment?”

“Yes.”

He leaned back in his chair and gave one of those infuriatingly calm shrugs.

“I don’t foresee any emergency arising in the next two hours, so give Miss Fourie a hitch-ride over to Sabi Sabi and report back here.”

Now, any sensible person would have simply said, Yes, sir.

Unfortunately, I have never had the good fortune of being a sensible person.

“Only if she stands on the apron and lifts her thumb—”

I never got to finish.

The slap to the back of my head arrived with enough force to make my teeth click together.

“Ow!”

“Doofus!”

Kait’s voice was sharp, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.

The room erupted.

Wolfie actually laughed. Steve nearly choked. Even Gustav’s stern façade cracked into a grin.

I rubbed the back of my head dramatically. “Brutality. I’m being assaulted in the workplace.”

“Miss Fourie...” Gustav said, fighting a smile. “I will take back that R1 rifle now, if you please. Mister Grobler is a very prized and important gear in this operation.”

Kait smirked and leaned back, crossing her arms.

“Oh, apart from the occasional slap on the head, I mean him no permanent harm.”

Her eyes flicked to mine.

And then she delivered the line that made my brain forget how to function for half a second.

“You know he is a very highly prized and important gear in my world too...”

For a moment, the room went quiet.

Not silent.

That dangerous kind of quiet where everyone was trying not to react.

Then all heads turned to me.

“Hey! You guys! I’m right here, you know. Stop talking about me,” I said, spreading my hands in mock protest. “But it’s good to know that I mean that much to you—so, how about a raise in salary?”

That got Gustav. He let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

“You already get the medium bucks and get to play with that high-tech monstrosity you call a helicopter. So keep quiet in the peanut gallery and just do your job.”

I sighed with theatrical defeat. “Oh, nothing ventured, nothing gained...”

Kait opened her mouth, and I caught the faintest hint of pink creeping into her cheeks.

“I’ll reward you later for good behaviour and...” She froze. The blush deepened.

A silence fell over the room like a curtain.

Then she recovered with admirable speed.

“I mean ... I’ll buy you dinner.”

Oh, everyone got it. Every single person around that table.

The grins spreading across their faces said as much.

Wolfie looked as though he was storing this moment away for future blackmail.

Steve was openly delighted.

Gustav simply smiled into his coffee mug like a man witnessing exactly the outcome he’d been engineering from the start.

Good recovery, I thought.

I wisely said nothing. Because for once, silence felt like the smarter option.

The meeting was officially over. Chairs scraped back. Maps were rolled up. People began filtering out.

I pushed back from the table and rose, trying very hard to ignore the amused looks still being thrown my way.

“Let me go prime the bird...” I muttered under my breath.

Truth be told, I needed the cockpit. The clean metallic smell of avionics. The familiar weight of the controls beneath my hands. Something steady. Something predictable.

Because somehow, facing down an angry buffalo at twenty feet felt easier than navigating whatever was happening between Kait and me.

And if dinner was really just dinner ... Well. I had a feeling the flight to Sabi Sabi was about to be a whole lot more interesting than Gustav realised.

I dropped Kait on the small apron of the Sabi Sabi airstrip just as the morning sun began to climb above the trees. The Lowveld was already alive with light, the air crisp but promising heat later in the day. A faint haze still clung to the bush beyond the runway, softening the thorn trees and giving the landscape that dreamlike quality unique to early mornings in the Kruger.

A small reception committee was already waiting for her beside one of the lodge’s open safari vehicles—two staff members in neat khaki uniforms and a ranger with binoculars slung around his neck.

As the rotors wound down to ground idle, one of them hurried forward to open her door.

Kait turned before stepping out. “See you back at Skuza...”

For a moment she paused, one hand holding her hat in place against the rotor wash, sunlight catching the soft highlights in her hair. She looked back at me, and there was something warm and searching in her eyes that made it difficult to look away.

Then she smiled, got out and the ranger shut the door and gave me a thumbs-up.

Kait gave me a small wave and, with a playful little grin, blew me a kiss before climbing into the waiting vehicle.

I watched as they drove her away toward the main complex of Sabi Sabi, the Land Cruiser disappearing between the trees.

There was a Cessna landing and already on the runway. I held short into the wind, watching the progress of the Cessna.

And also I was keeping an eye on the pack five wild dogs lazing in the shade of the trees on the other side of the runway. Three of the five were watching the Cessna rumble past wile two were snoozing, spread out flat in the grass under the trees.

“Helicopter Zulu Sierra Romeo Romeo Charley, we will vacate runway in about one minute... ” Came the courtesy call from the Cessna pilot.

“Roger! Romeo Romeo Charley holding short. When you’re hundred metres pass, I’ll go.” I transmitted.

“Good day to you, Romeo Romeo Charley and thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good day and enjoy your stay...” I replied.

I watched the Cessna roll past, giving it space. The rotor wash of Jessie could blow a Cessna over.

Only then did I lift off. Climbing to 500 feet above ground level and turning north as not to startle the wild dogs in their rest.

As Jessie rose above the airstrip, the morning bush unfolded beneath me in shades of green and gold. Long shadows stretched across the veld, cast by marula and knob-thorn trees. From above, the landscape looked deceptively peaceful, untouched by the things men carried into it.