FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 12:26 P.M.
UNITED STATES EMBASSY, BOGAMA
Ernest Ademola was dead.
It took a few moments for the reality of what Mercy said to sink in. Chad noted the stunned expressions on the faces of the two other men. Their looks of disbelief mirrored his own feelings of shock.
“This isn’t a coincidence.” Paul spoke aloud the obvious. He smacked his fingers against the table. “If you had doubts, Frank, that this election was in trouble…Well, I don’t know what further evidence you need.”
Chad glanced down at his half-eaten lunch. Rachel and Ademola were dead—both likely murdered by the opposition. And it seemed just as certain that Natalie was being held by the same people. He closed his eyes, afraid of how hard that thought hit him. How had her brown eyes and bright smile managed to capture his heart in such a short time? He couldn’t erase her image…nor the fact that she might not even be alive—because these people had no qualms in killing those who got in the way.
The pungent scent of fried fish filled his senses and turned his stomach. He pushed his plate away. More than likely when this was over—if they both managed to make it out alive—life would go back
to normal. He’d finish out his commitment at the hospital, return to the States, and never see her again.
Except that’s not what he wanted. Maybe it was only the intensity of the situation they’d been thrust into, but he could no longer deny the feelings he felt toward her. Nor the fact that for the first time in a long time he’d found a woman worth holding onto. No. He might not know what the future held, but he didn’t want to lose her yet. Not this way, anyway.
“What are they calling his death? Murder or suicide?” Paul’s question yanked Chad from his thoughts.
Mercy clasped her hands behind her. “An official statement hasn’t been released. I…I just thought you should know.”
“Then how did you find out?” Paul’s brow rose.
Mercy cleared her throat. “My brother has connections with several of the president’s staff. I asked him to call if anything happened.”
“Then well done.”
Mercy smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
Frank stood and moved to the window. “From what I’ve heard so far, I’m guessing that calling this a suicide isn’t an option in this situation.”
“But if they are calling it a suicide—” Paul began.
“Someone wants the situation to disappear.” Chad finished for him. “Like the photos. Another loose end swept under the carpet and forgotten. At least that’s what someone wants to happen.”
“And I’m determined not to let that happen. We’ve got to do something.” Paul scratched his chin. “I’ve got a hole in the west wing of the embassy, an American being held for ransom, and now a dead head of security for a president who’s been targeted for assassination.”
Chad groaned. “It’s beginning to sound like some B-rated movie review.”
“I wish it was. Then I could simply push the Off button so all of this would disappear.” Paul glanced at his watch. “Mercy, let the staff know that I’ll be holding an emergency meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Paul leaned against the table. “Your people should be here as well, Frank. If we’re going to do something to stop this, we’re going to have to work together to come up with a strategy. We’re running out of time.”
Frank nodded and pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll get them here as fast as I can.”
“Did you mention to the president Patrick Seko’s possible involvement with the opposition?” Chad asked.
Paul took a sip of his drink. “Yes, but the problem is we still don’t have any solid evidence at this point to back up those claims.”
“What about the e-mails Mercy gave us?”
“While I think our case is strong, apparently the president doesn’t believe it. We still need something more concrete.”
“A dead president would be pretty concrete.” Chad rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you have his detailed itinerary for the rest of the day?”
Paul glanced at the notebook in front of him and flipped back a couple of pages. “He’s got a private luncheon at one, press conference at three-thirty, then a brief stop at the orphanage with the vice president before the gala at seven.”
Chad rubbed his chin and ran the scenarios. “The press conference will be his most public appearance.”
“True.”
“And all they’ll need is one sharpshooter.”
“A scenario I’d probably dismiss, except for the fact that it looks as if we’ve got more behind this plot than just a handful of rogue mercenaries.”
“What about the FBI attaché?” Chad grabbed another bottle of Coke from the table behind him and popped off the cap. While saving the life of the president was important, finding Natalie was his priority at the moment. He was tired of sitting around doing nothing.
Paul glanced at his watch. “I was told to expect them within the next two hours, but according to the latest memo I received, planes are currently being delayed both in and out of the country.”
Great. Delays in this country might be commonplace, but he was ready for a bit of efficiency.
His cell phone rang. Caller unknown.
He pressed the button to take the call. “Hello?”
Static clogged the line.
“Hello?”
“Chad?”
“Natalie?” His voice caught at the relief that flooded through him at the sound of her voice. She was alive. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I…I managed to escape.”
Chad gave Paul a thumbs-up, then said a prayer of thanksgiving. “Tell me where you are, and we’ll come pick you up.”
He jotted down the address she gave him. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine. Really.”
She sounded shaken, but who wouldn’t be, given what she’d gone through the past few days? “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Her answer relieved him, but he wouldn’t totally relax until he could see her for himself. He glanced at the address. “Where are you, exactly?”
“I’m with a friend of Stephen’s. At her sewing shop on the south side of the city.” There was a pause on the line. “But, Chad…there’s something else you need to know.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a plan to assassinate the president tonight. I talked to Stephen, and while I don’t understand how he’s involved, I believe he’s telling the truth.”
Chad frowned. At this point he trusted Stephen as much as he trusted Patrick. If this was another trap…He swallowed hard. “You really think you can trust him?”
“Yes. I do.”
“How does Stephen know about the plan if he isn’t involved?”
“I don’t know, but he told me it’s going to happen tonight.”
“Where?”
“At the president’s gala.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make sure that this information is passed on to the right people, but for now, all I am concerned about is getting you here.”
“Thank you.” There was a pause on the line. “And, Chad…”
“Yeah?”
“Please hurry.”
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1:15 P.M.
MALIK’S NUMBER ONE DRESS SHOP, BOGAMA
Natalie sat in the early-afternoon shadows of the dress shop and watched the passing cars for Chad. She knew that the last few days had set her nerves on edge, but even with that knowledge it was becoming more and more difficult to suppress the nagging fear that Patrick would find her here.
Lord
,
I sure could use an extra dose of peace right now.
She peered toward the busy street, past the colorful row of embroidered shirts hanging in the warm afternoon sun, but there was still no sign of Chad. Like every other day, the road was congested with dozens of taxis, cars, and motorcycles filling the air with their thick exhaust. Side streets were busy with the commotion of sellers and buyers, and while there had been no signs of any political rallies or demonstrations on her taxi ride to the dress shop, that hadn’t alleviated her concerns.
The hum of the sewing machines buzzed around her as the young women worked. Malik had excused herself to speak to a client, leaving Natalie to watch for Chad—and to ponder another growing concern. How well did she really know Stephen?
While she’d worked closely with Stephen for eighteen months, the events of this past week had brought into question who he really
was. She’d described him to Chad as organized, educated, and well respected. Malik, on the other hand, spoke of him like the prodigal son who’d yet to return home. A man haunted with demons, he’d never come to terms with his past.
While Stephen had never mentioned Camille to her, Natalie couldn’t help but wonder if these ghosts from the past civil unrest had in turn affected his own marriage. Stephen had only hinted of problems between him and his wife, but Natalie hadn’t seen Anna or his girls for weeks. The last she’d heard they’d come to Bogama for a visit with her parents…and had yet to return.
But from what Stephen had told her in their brief exchange, she believed his inner turmoil went far beyond his family. Today Stephen had hinted at compromises he’d made, decisions he’d regretted making, and how he’d lost everything. Was it guilt that had made him willing to risk his life to save her? And if so, what else was he willing to risk?
Caution continued to prevail against logic. While she longed to trust Stephen, deep wounds from Patrick’s betrayal still stung.
She unzipped the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out a piece of gum. Her conversation with Rachel on forgiveness replayed in her mind. It was easy to talk about, but granting forgiveness was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. And if Patrick had killed Rachel, it would be even harder.
Five minutes later, a vehicle pulled up to the curb in front of the shop. Chad jumped out with a uniformed marine right behind him.
“Chad!” Relief flooding though her, Natalie rushed out of the shop and into the sunlight.
Chad caught her gaze and his lips curled into a smile. She stepped into his arms, and for the first time in twenty-four hours she felt safe. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Memories of the last time she’d seen him overwhelmed her. Part of her wanted to explore the feelings that had intensified while they’d been apart, but for the moment the fact that he’d found her was all that mattered.
He pulled back slightly without letting go of her waist and reached up with one hand to cup her cheek. “Are you really okay?”
“I am now.”
“I’ve been so worried.” He pushed back a wisp of her hair from her forehead, then wiped her tear away. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this.”
She shook her head. “None of this was your fault.”
“Maybe not, but wish I could have been there with you.”
She buried her head into his shoulder again. “It’s over now.”
“Miss Sinclair?”
She turned to the officer standing beside them. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Corporal Wingate from the United States Embassy. Are you sure you’re all right, ma’am?”
“Yes. I’m tired, but fine.”
“Then I suggest we get out of here. It’s not safe for either of you.”
“Just one more minute, please.” Natalie turned to Malik, who stood in the doorway, and hugged the older woman. “Thank you. For everything.”
Malik reached out and grasped her hand. “Promise me that you’ll tell Stephen I forgive him. I don’t want pain haunting him for the rest of his life. And if he ever decides to stop by and see me…I just want him to know that I don’t hold anything against him.”
Natalie nodded. “I’ll tell him. I promise.”
Corporal Wingate opened the back door of the car and waved them both inside. “Let’s get out of here.”
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2:06 P.M.
UNITED STATES EMBASSY, BOGAMA
Natalie munched on a fry, then added some salt. Fatigue had masked her appetite—until the secretary set the hamburger and fries in front of her.
“Hungry?” Chad sat beside her, his blue eyes teasing.
“Starving.” She picked up another fry. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Malik gave me tea and fried biscuits, but this is fantastic.”
“They’re going to want to ask you some questions. Are you up to it?”
She nodded. “I think I’ve got enough energy left to push me through another few hours as long as I can crash afterward for the next month.”
Chad shot her a wide grin. “I’d say you deserve a vacation after all this.”
Natalie turned as a fortysomething-year-old man stepped into the room and shook her hand. “Miss Sinclair. Welcome to the United States Embassy.”
“Thank you. And please, you can call me Natalie.”
“All right, Natalie. My name is Paul Hayes. I’m the consul here at the embassy. I understand you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
Natalie chuckled at the understatement. “You could say that.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re all right.”
“And I’m very glad to be here.”
Paul dropped into the chair across from her and set his notebook and water bottle on the table in front of him. “I’m sure you’re tired, but I need to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I understand.”
“From what you told Chad on the phone, we have very little time to stop a possible assassination. Chad has been helping put some sense of order to the facts we do have, but anything you can add could potentially help.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know very much.”
Paul unscrewed the lid of his water bottle and took a long drink. “Why don’t you start by telling us what happened while you were in captivity? The more we know about who we’re up against, the better.”
Natalie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then started describing the kidnapping, the place she was held, and the guard. When she mentioned Patrick, she caught the startled reaction on Chad’s face.
“You saw Patrick?”
“Yes.”
“There…there’s something you need to know before we go any further.” Chad reached out and took her hand.
Natalie bit her lip, afraid she knew what he was about to say. “What is it?”
“I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but Rachel’s dead.”
Natalie pressed her free hand against her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. “He told me that he loved her, but that everything had gone wrong. He didn’t admit to killing her, but he didn’t deny it either. I’ve been so afraid that’s what happened.”
“I’m so sorry. I know you were friends.”
“And you’re sure it was Patrick?”
“No,” Chad continued, “but at the moment, he seems to be the most likely choice. Officially her death is being called a suicide, but we’re pretty sure she was murdered. Nick found her.”
“Is he okay?”
Chad nodded. “He went ahead and flew back to Kasili.”
Natalie pushed her hair from her eyes and tried to slow her ragged breathing. The white walls of the room pressed in around her. Nothing seemed real. Not the fact that she’d just escaped her captors, or that Rachel was dead…“What about Joseph?”
“He’s at his uncle’s. We figured for now he’d be safer there than here.” Paul took another sip of his water. “Listen. I’m sorry to have to keep on with this, but I need any information you might have on plans to assassinate the president.”
“Stephen told me that they were planning it tonight at the gala.”
“You’re certain about that?”
Natalie nodded.
“Why believe him?” Chad asked.
“Because he could have killed me, but instead he let me go. Which is why I’m worried about him now. I have no doubt that if they find out he let me go, they’ll kill him.”
“So you think he’s working as some sort of mole in Patrick’s entourage?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “That’s something I’ve been trying to figure out. The problem is that it all happened so fast, I didn’t have time to ask him anything else.”
Paul tapped a pen against his notebook. “Have you considered the possibility that the man fed you false information and then let you go on purpose?”
Natalie’s head began to pound. Why did the questions always outweigh the answers? “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, but it’s an angle we have to consider,” Paul said. “He knows enough about you to be able to play off your emotions.”
Even though she’d considered the same thing, she didn’t buy the reasoning. “What would be his motivation? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t know, but I’ve been doing some research of my own the past few hours.” Paul flipped open his notebook. “Seven months ago, Stephen purchased an apartment in Switzerland and paid cash.”
“Cash?” Natalie blinked. “I don’t understand. Stephen was paid well, but not enough to invest in overseas property.”
“That’s what I thought.”
The secretary tapped on the door, then walked in. “You asked for updates, sir.”
“Please. Come in.”
“It’s not good news, I’m afraid.” Mercy laced her hands in front of her. “The president has just named his new head of security.”
Natalie felt her pulse quicken. It couldn’t be—
“Patrick Seko has just taken over for Ernest Ademola.”
The room fell silent. All Natalie could hear was the pounding of her heart and the rain splattering against the window. Paul shoved back his chair and marched over to look out at the soggy embassy grounds.
After a moment he turned back toward them. “I specifically told the president we suspect that Seko’s involved in a plot against the president’s life. What are they doing?”
Mercy fingered the hem of her shirt. “I don’t know, sir. Apparently they don’t agree with our evidence. Patrick Seko has worked as one of the president’s trusted employees for years.”
Natalie drew in a deep breath as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She needed to talk to Stephen. He was the one person she knew who had answers and would talk to her. The problem was she had no idea where he was.
She bit her lip and mulled over the only option she could come up with. “I need to go to the gala tonight.”
Chad’s brow narrowed at her announcement. “You’ve got to be kidding. Patrick will be there with plans to take out the president. For all we know it could be a bomb that wipes out the entire palace.”
“I don’t think so.” Natalie shook her head. “He’s no martyr. It will be something small and precise that takes out the president. Just think about it. I’m the only one here who knows both Patrick and Stephen. If Stephen is in on what’s happening, I can get him to talk.”
“You don’t know that,” Chad countered.
“Maybe not, but do you have any other ideas for finding out what’s happening?”
“Showing up at the gala would be a huge risk.” Paul sat back down across from them.
Natalie pushed her plate away and leaned forward. “Not going is just as big a risk. I’ve tried calling Stephen and his phone is off, which means I have no way of finding him. Both of you know that we can’t wait until some sharpshooter takes out the president and throws this country into another civil war.”
Natalie looked to Chad. He sat beside her, his brow furrowed. She knew he was only trying to protect her, but the last five days had taught her that nothing in life was certain. She had no desire to head off on some suicide mission, but if she could do something to make a difference she was ready to do it.
“What happens tonight is going to affect more than this country,” she continued. “Malik told me this afternoon that unofficial reports were stating that the president has a strong lead. If the opposition is determined to win this, they’ll do whatever it takes. Especially if they have the backing of some international cartel.”
“So you believe Stephen’s trying to play Patrick?” Chad asked.
“Stephen said he wanted to do something right, but going up against Patrick is more than he can handle. Which means while we might need him to get information, he needs us as well.”
Chad fiddled with the saltshaker. “What if you’re wrong?”
“What if I’m right?”
“You heard what Paul said. Stephen’s got his hand on a small fortune, so as far as we know, he could be on someone’s payroll.”
While Chad obviously wasn’t convinced, neither was she ready to back down. “When I talked to Malik this afternoon, I learned about another side of Stephen. He’s living with guilt over something that happened during the coup seventeen years ago. I think he wants to make things right this time. That’s why he let me go. And why he’s
managed to prove to Patrick that he’s playing on his side now. If we can find out from Stephen exactly what’s going to happen tonight, we can stop this.”
Paul came back to the table and leaned against it. “As much as I don’t like to admit it, she makes sense, Chad.”
“I know. That’s what I hate.” Chad rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “What kind of resources do you have here?”
“Six marines. If we get lucky, we might have access to some of the UN soldiers overseeing the election, but not much else,” Paul said. “At this point, I don’t think even the FBI attaché is going to make it on time.”
“We’ve got five hours to find Stephen,” Chad said. “If we find him first, there’s no reason for you to go.”
“True, but if we don’t find him by then, the gala is the one place I’m certain I’ll be able to find him.”
“There’s one other problem,” Chad continued. “What about invitations? Rachel told us it’s going to be impossible to get in without an invitation.”
Paul leaned back and folded his hands across his chest. “Give me a little bit of time, and I can get you both in.”