WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 5:26 P.M.
OUTSIDE BOGAMA HARBOR
Natalie grasped the edge of the seat with her fingertips as the taxi driver raced down the two-lane dirt road heading away from the harbor, making her wonder if it had been worth waiting over an hour for the ride. Not like they had any options. The city’s taxis were the only transportation available between the harbor and the capital.
The driver swerved to avoid a herd of cows on the edge of the road. Natalie’s shoulder smashed against the window, shooting pain down her arm. Obviously, the brand-new cabs with their new coat of paint and drivers wearing ties and name badges didn’t guarantee safe passage. She glanced out at the shoreline, now tinged orange from the setting sun. The silhouettes of a dozen pirogues skimmed across the golden waters alongside an overcrowded barge.
The view vanished behind the crest of a hill, leaving instead the dozens of sprawling slum rows before them. Women wearing tattered dresses and carrying loads of wood on their heads lined the edge of the dusty road. Half of them had infants tied to their back. For the thousands of Dhambizans living here, none of the makeshift shacks had running water or electricity. Sanitation facilities were inadequate, and access to health care was virtually unobtainable. The goal for living here simply meant survival.
She tried turning on her cell to call Stephen, then groaned at the dead battery. Great. Finding a taxi at the busy harbor might have been difficult, but communication had become a nightmare. She dropped the phone back into her bag. Maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t reach him after all. If Stephen was involved, it was better he didn’t know where she was. Her gut feeling, though, told her he had nothing to do with the shooting on the barge. Or, for that matter, the Ghost Soldiers.
Chad snapped his phone shut, yanking her away from her thoughts.
“No luck?” she asked.
He shoved his cell into his pocket and shrugged. “Dead battery.”
“Me too. What about the driver’s phone?” Natalie asked.
“All my numbers are on my phone.”
Natalie groaned again at the realization. So were hers. And there was no calling information in Bogama.
Joseph tapped Innocent, their driver, on the shoulder and spoke a few words. Innocent pulled over, flipped on the overhead light, then picked up his cell phone as Joseph climbed out to use the restroom.
Natalie lay her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes to block out light from the bare bulb overhead. The chatter of the driver intensified her pounding head. All she wanted was a decent place to sleep for the next eight hours. Bogama boasted a couple of adequate hotels, but she’d prefer a mat on Rachel’s apartment floor. Not only was staying with someone she knew more appealing than a hotel room, but if Rachel could give them answers, they’d be that much closer to locating Joseph’s family.
The chattering in the front seat increased. Chad squeezed her hand.
“Ouch.” She pulled her hand away and opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, motioning for her to be quiet. “We’ve got a problem. Do you have a piece of paper?”
Natalie grabbed the backpack off the floor and rummaged through the front pocket where she remembered putting a pad of sticky notes and a couple of pens. She found both at the bottom. At least no one could accuse her of being unprepared.
Chad grabbed the pen from her and started scribbling on the paper.
Driver arguing over price of reward for two Americans. Taking us to a military compound.
Natalie’s mouth went dry. She blinked her eyes and looked up at him. “You’re kidding—”
Chad held his finger to his mouth. She clenched her jaw shut as slivers of panic sliced through her. She had to relax. Panicking wouldn’t help. She glanced out the open door. They could run now, but then what? They were still miles from the city. They needed a vehicle to get to safety. But where in the world could they get one?
Joseph slid back into the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Innocent flipped the light off, gunned the accelerator, and merged into the light traffic.
Natalie tried to think. She’d been certain that she’d exaggerated any ideas of a conspiracy theory. Apparently that assumption was wrong. And radioing the police, military, and taxi drivers to be on the lookout for two Americans would be fairly simple in a city where less than one percent of the population was foreigners.
Chad brushed against her arm. “How much time will it take to get there?”
The only military base she knew of lay in the northern outskirts of the city. “Fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops.”
Chad leaned over and whispered to Joseph, who hesitated, then tapped the driver’s shoulder again. This time the man was obviously irritated. He shouted something in Dha, but pulled over. Joseph scurried halfway up the short embankment that ran along the side of the road.
Moving quickly, Chad pressed against the front seat, then wrapped his right arm around the driver’s neck. Innocent flung his
arms toward Chad’s face, hollered, then stopped in mid-sentence. His cell phone clattered against the console. Three seconds later, he slumped against the back of the seat.
“Chad!” Natalie sucked in a breath.
Chad released pressure, but kept his arm around the man’s neck. “I promise you, this is the safest way to take someone out if it’s done right, and considering our circumstances, I think we’re pretty much out of options.”
Her mind spun with the implications of what he’d just done. They already had the entire RD army after them. Now if he’d killed the man…
“And you know how to do it safely?”
“It’s a martial-arts move.” Chad rushed around to the driver’s door and swung it open.
Natalie leaned across the seat to check the driver’s pulse. At least he was still alive. “You told me you dabbled in martial arts.”
“I guess I forgot to mention that I have a black belt in karate.” Chad undid the man’s seat belt.
“You said ‘dabbled.’ I dabble with painting and playing the piano in my spare time, and you…you just knocked a man out.”
She needed to stop babbling, but all she could see at the moment was an unconscious man. She swallowed hard. “How much time till he wakes up?”
“Anywhere from a few seconds to a couple minutes. There’s no way to know, but we’ve got to get him out of here.” Chad hollered at Joseph to help him.
Natalie jumped out of the cab. “We can’t just leave him—”
“He’ll be fine, Natalie.” They dragged him from the front seat and laid him on the side of the road. “This road has people walking on it all night. Someone will find him.”
She glanced at the shadowy image of the unconscious man, then squeezed her eyes shut.
Chad slid into the driver’s seat. “Can you get us to Rachel’s with the address you have?”
“In the taxi?”
“Have you got a better idea?”
She shook her head. We can call her on a public phone to get directions. The photo of Joseph’s sister emerged in her mind. It was enough to make her scramble around the car into the passenger seat. Joseph jumped into the back.
Chad slammed his foot against the accelerator. “Then let’s get out of here.”
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 5:46 P.M.
DOWNTOWN BOGAMA
Chad breathed in the smell of exhaust and grilled meat through the open window of the taxi. A car sped past them, its headlights briefly illuminating the cab. His stomach soured as he drove down one of the main streets of the capital. A pair of soldiers patrolling the streets walked in front of a colorful barbershop sign, their guns held high across their shoulders. He sucked in a lungful of air, then glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as they drove past a row of shops made from wood slats and sheets of tin. The soldiers seemed unaware that two Americans had just driven by in a stolen taxi.
He blew out a sharp breath of relief. Perhaps in the darkness that now settled over the city their chances were better. Tomorrow the street corners would be filled with the noisy clamor of vendors and pedestrians. Staying undetected would be impossible.
Natalie turned on the radio, scanning for stations until she found one broadcasting the news. Tonight’s report was no different from most nights. Political, educational, health, and tribal issues ruled the headlines, with the added assurances of a peaceful election on Friday despite some random outbursts of violence in the city. And there was, to quote the president, nothing to fear.
Nothing to fear.
Chad frowned. If that were true, then why had the RD army been sent after him and the photos? If nothing else, today’s events proved that Joseph’s photos threatened someone’s rise to power. But whose?
A broken streetlight dangled above a group of street children huddled on the sidewalk. Their haunted expressions reminded him how fragile life was. Earning a few cents every day by sweeping stalls in the market, shining shoes, or selling fruit on street corners gave them barely enough to survive on. Going a day without food wasn’t uncommon. Education was a luxury not even dreamed about by most. Joseph had been one of the lucky ones.
He turned and looked at the young man. “Where does your uncle live, Joseph? It’s too dangerous for you to be traveling with us.”
Joseph shook his head. “I must find my family…How can I do that at my uncle’s house.”
Chad stopped at a signal light, then glanced at Joseph in the rearview mirror. “If you’re not with us you’ll be safer. And we promise to do everything we can to find your family.”
Joseph’s jaw clenched. “I know this city…the streets…the people…and the language. You need me.”
Natalie’s frown deepened. “Maybe that’s true, but if anything happened to you, I could never forgive myself—”
“Don’t worry.” Joseph shook his head. “This is my choice.”
Chad caught the reflection of a pair of lanterns alongside the road ahead and let out a low whistle. “Maybe not. There’s a police roadblock ahead, which means that none of us may have a choice as to where we’re going tonight.” He eased off the accelerator. “We’ve got less than thirty seconds to decide whether or not we storm through the roadblock.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Natalie flipped shut the map she’d been looking at. “We can’t just drive through.”
“If we stop, they’ll arrest us,” Chad countered. “And I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard the RD prisons don’t exactly compare to Holiday Inn.”
Natalie shook her head. “In other words, doomed if we do, doomed if we don’t.”
“Wait.” Joseph leaned forward and rested his arms on the back of the front seat. “Slow down, then at the last minute, speed up.”
“And break through their barrier?” Natalie asked.
Joseph nodded.
“You sound like you’ve done this before,” Chad said.
“They won’t expect it, and because they are on foot, they won’t come after us.” He pointed up ahead to the left. “There is a road ahead where you can turn.”
“Everyone get down.” Chad gripped the steering wheel. “And start praying.”
Chad continued slowing as if he were preparing to stop. One of the guards searched the back of another taxi. A second one waved them down. Two large barrels were the only things blocking the road. Chad waited until the last minute, then jammed on the gas. A sick feeling washed over him as the taxi clipped the edge of one of the barrels. The front of the car shimmied as gunfire erupted behind them.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 12:02 P.M. EST
WASHINGTON DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
Gabby stepped off the Boeing 767 onto the people mover and felt a cold gush of air fill her lungs. The pungent smell of diesel fuel mingled with the musty scent of travelers who’d flown from Paris to DC the past eight hours with little more space than a sardine can. Readjusting the strap of her backpack, she grabbed onto the nearest metal pole while trying to fight the fatigue.
She took a swig of water from her plastic bottle and forced it down as the mobile lounge crossed the tarmac toward the terminal. All she needed now was enough oomph to make it through Immigration and Customs. She turned her mind to plans she had to make for her upcoming trip to Aspen with her family over Christmas. A far cry from the blistering heat and mining camps she’d just spent the past couple of weeks investigating. And the horrors of her last night in the RD.
A man wearing a green baseball cap with a red dragon glanced back through the crowded people mover and caught her gaze. European, mid-forties, balding…and vaguely familiar. Her stomach roiled, but she shoved aside the wave of panic Tuesday night’s attack had spawned. She’d found out that their driver had survived the attack, but they’d all been lucky.
The man stared out the window. More than likely he was simply
another businessman who made his living traveling seventy-five percent of the year to make money for a family he rarely saw.
She’d known the risks of her investigation when she’d agreed to the assignment, and that just because she was on American soil again didn’t guarantee she was safe. She tightened her grip as the mobile lounge docked at the terminal, believing the risk had been worth it. Once published, she hoped the information would explode across the front pages of dozens of newspapers around the world.
Forty-five minutes later, she breathed in a sigh of relief as she hurried toward the Arrival escalators in the main terminal, thankful she’d opted out of checking any bags—a choice that could easily have added another hour to her wait.
Sabrina, her best friend and roommate, stood at the front of the crowd wearing blue jeans and a Washington Redskins sweatshirt. “Hey! You made it back.”
“Finally. It’s good to see you.” Gabby forced as smile, then looked past her friend, searching the sea of faces, not sure what she was looking for. “I had my doubts once or twice.”
Someone collided into her, knocking her bag from her shoulders.
“Sorry about that.” An older man nodded his apologies and walked away.
Gabby stiffened at the innocent assault.
Sabrina handed her the bag. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Gabby automatically felt for her neck pouch with its wire-reinforced strap. Adam might have tried to assure her that Tuesday night’s attack involved nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances—even this far away from the Dark Continent.
“I’m fine, really.” She followed Sabrina outside the main terminal. “Just tired. You know how grueling a couple of days on a plane is, then add someone who can’t stop talking beside you.”
“Yes, actually, I do. Remember that flight I took last year from Singapore. That woman talked all the way to LA nonstop.”
A message came through on her cell phone. She sneezed, then clicked it open to check. She’d already checked them upon arrival, but if Adam had found Yasin, there was a chance she might still be able to add a quote before today’s deadline.
Sabrina was still talking. “Michael took me to this fantastic little Indian restaurant while you were gone that you’re going to love. If you’re hungry, they make the most incredible spring rolls, and you wouldn’t believe their…Gabby?”
Gabby stopped at the edge of the curb. “I’m sorry, Sabrina…I…”
She replayed the message. Surely she hadn’t heard it right:
“Last night wasn’t a mistake.”
“Gabby?” Sabrina grabbed her arm as a car zipped around them.
“Last night wasn’t a mistake.”
A chill swept through her. She took a deep breath, exhaling on the overwhelming odor of exhaust from a passing car, and shoved her phone back into her front pocket. She might have been targeted last night, but what about the hundreds who couldn’t simply walk away from the terror like she could. How could she let a threat stop her from doing what she knew she had to do?