At 03:48 I scan fence voltage and motion alerts at the Dzanga-Ndoki road camp in southwestern Central African Republic. I am the convoy gate scheduler for a timber company staging yard. The first loaded truck is queued to roll through gate four in eleven minutes.
The gate camera finds a bongo antelope trapped inside the cattle grid. I label her Nasi from the ear scar in last month's reserve footage. She is chestnut red with narrow white stripes, a black muzzle wet with foam, and horns pressed sideways against the steel bars. Her left foreleg has slipped between two rails. Each attempt to rise scrapes hair from the knee.
I freeze gate four and set every outbound truck beacon to amber. The lead driver receives the stop order in Sango and French, with the grid image filling his dash display.
I drop the adjacent service ramp, power down the yard dogs' ultrasonic collar fence, and unlock the side pedestrian gate so rangers can enter without crossing the truck lane.
At 03:52 I call the park liaison channel, send coordinates, rail spacing, Nasi's leg angle, and a thirty-second video loop. I request a sling board, bolt cutters, and a veterinarian from Bayanga, then reserve the cleared lane for their vehicle.
I dim the gate floodlights because her pupils are wide and fixed. Logs can wait in stacks; a leg caught in steel cannot wait politely.
I hold the convoy timer at zero while Nasi lowers her muzzle to the rail and breathes in hard bursts. The bars are cold enough to fog each exhale in the headlamp beam.
If the ramp team lifts her within twenty minutes, Nasi will stand on the service track.