Blood Covenant (12 page)

TWENTY-THREE

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 7:25 A.M.
AMERICAN EMBASSY, RD

Paul pulled open the top drawer of his desk and dug for one of the Snicker bars he’d brought back with him from his last trip to DC six months ago. It was probably the last thing he needed, what with the persistent cough he’d developed overnight, but healthy or not, he was running on empty. He glanced at his phone and mentally calculated the time in Colorado. It was almost eleven-thirty. He should call Maggie. The kids would have gone to bed hours ago, but she was probably either watching a movie or reading one of her cheap romance novels. So much for the fatherly advice he’d given Isaac about family and priorities. So much for his own marriage.

His phone rang, and he answered it on the second ring. “Deputy Chief of Mission Paul Hayes, speaking.”

“Paul? Is that you? You sound horrid.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice as well, sis.” While Sarah was good at sending occasional e-mails, his middle sister rarely used the phone. Which had him worried.

“Are you sick?”

“Just some nasty cold I picked up.” Paul shoved the drawer shut, ripped open the wrapper, and took a bite of his breakfast. “You’re up late. Is anything wrong?”

“The twins went to bed early, so Maggie and I decided to watch a chick flick.”

He smiled at the image of Maggie in her slippers and her red, satiny pajamas watching movies with his sister. Give her a happily-ever-after fairytale and she was content. Which had to make their life together look like some cheesy B-rated horror movie. “How are the kids?”

“The twins are fine.”

“And Maggie?”

“She misses you. We all miss you.”

Having three younger sisters had always complicated life. “That’s not what Maggie said on the message she left me yesterday.”

He stood to look out the open window overlooking the embassy lawns, lined by a row of mango trees. Even at this early hour of the morning it was already hot. Man, he wished he were in Colorado with Maggie right now. “E-mail me some more photos of the kids, will you? I know they’re growing up too fast.”

“That’s because Maggie doesn’t let them live on Snickers and Dr. Pepper.”

He dropped what was left of his candy bar onto the desk and eyed his drink. Maggie would have his hide if she saw him. “How’d you know?”

“For one, I’m your sister and know you pretty well. And that telltale ripping of a candy-bar wrapper was a pretty good giveaway.” Her voice caught. “You’re going to have a heart attack if you don’t take better care of yourself.”

He scowled at the reprimand, but his sister was always right. And if Maggie was here, she’d tell him the same thing. Even his secretary complained about his eating habits. But none of them understood the stress he was under. Or the twinges of guilt that kept surfacing, reminding him of everything he should be doing. Like making up with Maggie, seeing his daughters, finding time for a proper meal —

“Paul?”

“Yeah, I … I’m sorry.” He sat back down in his chair. “I’ve been a bit distracted lately. There are some things we’re dealing with right now at the office.”

“I watched CNN tonight. They mentioned outbreaks of fighting in the north.”

“Nothing for you to worry about.” He glanced at his watch. He’d called a short meeting with his team, and now he was the one who was going to be late. “I really need to go — ”

“And your family really needs you. What happened between you and Maggie?”

Her question took him off guard. It wasn’t the subject he wanted to be discussing with his sister right now.

“She told me she’s here because the two of you decided that I needed some extra help with Tucker and the new baby, but I don’t believe her.”

He wanted to sound as if it really wasn’t a big deal. That Maggie really had left because his sister needed someone to help her out around the house, but that excuse wasn’t true and they both knew it.

Paul took another bite of his candy bar. He’d picked up the phone to call Maggie a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours, and each time he’d hung up before dialing. He knew she was hurt, but when this was all over and he was able to return to the States, he’d find a way to make it up to her. Dinner, tickets to the opera, or maybe a weekend at the bed and breakfast in Breckenridge where they’d spent their honeymoon. Except he was afraid that this time, any attempts to make things right would end up being too little too late.

“Don’t try to pretend that this has something to do with me,” Sarah said. “You need to ask her to come home.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s not my choice to make.”

“So that’s it, then? You just let your wife walk away after twenty- five years of marriage without a second glance at all you’ve gone through together?”

“Sarah.” His jaw tensed. She had no right to accuse him. “Now’s really not the time.”

“That’s the problem. It’s never the right time, is it? Your work has always come first, and Paul — ”

“What I do is important. You know that.”

“Paul.” There was a pause on the line. “Maggie’s older sister went to the doctor yesterday. They’ve diagnosed her with breast cancer.”

“She … what? I don’t understand. She never mentioned a problem.”

“She had a mammogram two weeks ago, and they found a lump.”

Why hadn’t Maggie told him? “It’s cancer?”

“They caught it early, so her prognosis is good. But she’ll still have to go through treatment.”

“Meaning?”

“They’ve scheduled surgery for next week. Then she’s looking at radiation.”

The walls pressed in around him. “I still don’t understand — why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because you weren’t here.”

Paul slumped in his chair and tried to digest the news. How had he spent his entire life playing the role of the good guy for his country, but when it came to his own family he’d become the villain?

You should have been there.

“Call her. Twenty-five years is too much time to simply throw away. And she needs you now.”

He wasn’t sure it would make a difference.

“Promise me, Paul. Just call her.”

The white-tiled floor blurred beneath him. “I’ll call her.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” He glanced down at the open door of the conference room, feeling torn.

“Don’t lose her.”

He hung up the phone, then held his head in his hands. How had he ever let things get this far out of control? This never should have happened.

Isaac stood in the doorway. “You ready to start?”

Paul waved his hand. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

For now, he was going to have to go in there and do what he’d always done. Shove aside any family issues and focus on the problem at hand. Years of experience should make it easy.

The team he’d called in, both Dhambizao nationals and U.S. government employees posted at the embassy, was already set up around the oval table in the conference room when he arrived a minute-and-a-half later. He dumped what was left of his breakfast on the table and sat down. “Who’s got an update of the situations with the rebels?”

Carl Williams, one of the consular officers, originally from Virginia, stiffened in his chair. “We’re still getting mixed reports from our government sources. They claim the army has everything under control, while the rebels are reporting that they are now in control of the whole Mponi region.”

“What else?”

Isaac leaned forward. “The rebels also have threatened that if amnesty is not granted they will advance to the capital. But Carl’s correct — the government continues to maintain that there is no substance to their threats.”

“Carl, what’s the death toll in that region?”

“It depends on who you are talking to. The government is still reporting the toll at less than thirty, but there are rumors circulating that make it closer to four, maybe five, hundred.”

Paul whistled under his breath. “That’s a significant difference. What about the airport? Any delays reported?”

“Commercial flights continue to operate from the capital’s international airport.” His assistant, Mercy, spoke up for the first time. “But that is subject to change depending on the rebel activity.”

“And the evacuation process?” Paul asked.

Mercy tapped her pen against the table. “All Americans registered with the embassy and living in the Mponi region have been informed of the order to evacuate. We also have ensured that all humanitarian groups and U.S. citizens outside that region have an evacuation plan ready to implement in case a countrywide warning is issued for them to leave.”

Paul frowned. He needed something new. How hard could it be to get cold, hard facts? “We’ve got rebels on the loose, which puts American lives at stake, and yet everything you’ve just given me I could have read — and did read, by the way — in this morning’s paper. I need to know why I’m receiving information — and unconfirmed information at that — from the newspaper and not the local authorities.”

Isaac cleared his throat. “I’ve … I’ve had some issues in getting detailed information from my contacts.”

“Which brings up several problems.” Paul folded his arms across his chest. “One, I’ve got dozens of family members of expats living in this country and they are looking to us for answers. So what do you propose I tell them? That everything’s fine and there’s nothing to worry about despite the fact that CNN just reported that people are being slaughtered in their beds?”

“I — ”

“I’m not finished.” Paul cut Isaac off. “Second, you were hired for this position because as a former senior law enforcement officer of the RD, you are supposed to have contacts in this government. Which means you should be able to drag the chief of police, or the deputy of foreign affairs, or anyone else out of bed in the middle of the night and get the information out of them that I want.”

“Yes, sir.”

Paul caught the irritation in Isaac’s voice and briefly regretted his sharp response, but the weight of the situation hung heavy in the air. If the man couldn’t do his job, he didn’t belong on his team. Because if they couldn’t all do their jobs, more lives were going to be lost.

TWENTY-FOUR

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 7:47 A.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP

Nick jumped from the plane and automatically began barking orders. It was a miracle they were all alive. He’d managed to come in for the landing at a fairly level position at the edge of the camp, which had lessened the impact, but he still shouldered the responsibility of getting his passengers to safety. Something he’d been unable to do in Iraq. He glanced at the bottom of the plane that lay against the red dirt. It was a miracle there wasn’t more damage, but the threat hadn’t passed. A leak in the fuselage could mean the chance of an explosion. Added to that, the rebels were out there. They needed to get to safety as quickly as possible.

Nick jimmied opened the passenger door and helped Paige step down from the plane. The apprehension she had struggled with the night before had been replaced by a clear streak of determination. Whatever the inner turmoil she was coping with, she was in her element and it showed.

With the last of the group wrestled out of the plane, Nick took up the rear as the guards helped to carry Jodi and the body of Ashley’s father to the camp. In the distance, the group of rebels stood along the ridge, too far away to cause any more damage, but they’d made their position clear: the refugee camp had just become a key player in the rebel’s game to win amnesty for their colleagues. Which put at even greater risk the ten thousand plus people spread out before them across the flat terrain.

“Nick.” Paige turned to face him. She blocked the sun with her hand while the breeze teased the back of her hair. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I need to see what kind of damage we’re looking at.”

“Looks pretty final to me.” Her gaze shifted from the plane to the rise behind him. “And the rebels …”

“I’ll be okay. If they wanted to take live hostages, they’d be here by now.”

She shot him a look of disapproval and for a moment he reconsidered going back to the camp with her, but he needed to know if there was any way this plane could fly them out of there.

“I won’t stay long. I promise.”

He watched her hurry toward the clinic, then turned back to the plane. If he could find a way to get it back in the air, it might be their only way out of the camp.

Twenty minutes later, Nick admitted defeat by kicking the tire, wincing at the pain that shot up his leg. There was no way this plane was flying again any time soon. He pulled out his logbook, the first-aid kit, and a couple of personal items he didn’t want the rebels getting their hands on, then headed to the clinic.

You’re going to have to show us another way out, God.

Inside the clinic, Paige stood beside one of the metal beds, adjusting Jodi Collin’s IV while her husband, Brandon, sat beside her. At least the woman seemed to be sleeping comfortably for the time being.

Nick bridged the gap between them. “How is she?”

Paige dropped her hands to her side, fatigue clearly mixed with the determination he’d seen earlier. “Stable for now. I was able to remove the bullet, but her fever’s increased, and I’m not sure what the source of the infection is. I’ve started her on a broad-spectrum antibiotic, but I don’t know that it will be enough. Now I’m wondering if we should have risked going straight to the hospital in Kingani …”

Nick shook his head. He’d learned firsthand that when you started playing the what-if game, you always lost. “You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. You made the best judgment you could considering the circumstances. Don’t second-guess your decision.”

“What I’m concerned about is that she also has some strange symptoms that don’t seem to be connected with the gunshot wound. You would think altitude sickness, perhaps, but instead her chest is congested.”

“I don’t see how we’ve got a choice. We’ve got to get her to a proper hospital.” Brandon turned to Nick. “What about the plane? Is there any way it will fly?”

Nick shook his head. “It’s not going anywhere. And with those rebels out there, neither are we.”

Brandon held his wife’s hand. “I need you both to tell me what’s going on here. I just managed to survive a horrific experience on that mountain and now you say we’re trapped here?”

“Unless something changes out there, that’s a pretty good conclusion.” As much as he hated to admit it, Brandon’s assessment was on target. But that didn’t mean he was ready to give in to the rebels. “We need to sit down and discuss our options.”

“I agree.” Paige turned to one of her nurses. “I need you to go find Taz. Tell him we need to speak to him immediately. Brandon, why don’t you join us.”

Five minutes later, the four of them sat in the back of the clinic while Samson stood guard outside, carrying one of the confiscated rebel weapons. But even though Samson was armed, if the rebels decided to attack, there was little anyone would be able to do about it.

Brandon stood and started pacing. “I still don’t understand. We were told that the conflict was miles away from Mt. Maja and the camps.”

Nick shrugged. “Rebels don’t exactly play by the rules. From what I’ve seen, they are facing little resistance from President Tau’s army, which means they’re gaining ground quickly.”

“Can’t we fight them off?”

Taz tapped his safari hat against his knee. “We might outnumber them, but we’ve got a couple guns and a camp full of displaced people who are mainly women and children. We can’t exactly raise up an army with our resources.”

Brandon didn’t look convinced. “So what happens in the meantime? I’m not willing to sit here and watch my wife’s health deteriorate.”

“I’m not sure we have any options until the rebels are neutralized. Flying’s obviously out of the picture, and they’ve blocked the main roads.”

“And sabotaged the cell-phone towers,” Paige added.

Brandon smacked his hands against the table. “Surely someone will notice we’re missing and call in the military before this goes any further.”

“That’s what I’m hoping happens, but it could still be several days before they realize something is wrong. Power outages are common and even with the satellite phones, they expect there to be times that we can’t get through.” Nick processed the situation like a military strategist, but with hundreds of civilians involved, their options were limited unless they could get past the rebels. “The bottom line is that with issues of logistics it could take several days before help arrives, and that’s assuming they can get past the rebels.”

“What if Jodi doesn’t have days?” Brandon turned to Paige. “I appreciate your attempts to take care of my wife, but she needs to be in a hospital with proper medical care.”

Nick watched the pain reflected in Paige’s expression. And it wasn’t just Jodi that they were all concerned about. No road access meant no fuel for boreholes and no more supplies. Samson’s quick thinking had meant that while the rebels got away with their satellite phones and radios, they hadn’t been able to touch their food supply. Of course, there were no guarantees that they wouldn’t return with a larger group.

“Let’s look at what we do have. What about the medical supplies?”

Paige thumbed the corner of the current inventory list. “We have basic supplies that should last another week if we’re lucky. And we should have enough to keep the cholera treatment center running if the number of cases starts to drop, as it should within the next forty-eight hours or so. We need that convoy that’s on its way, not with just medical supplies and food, but personnel as well. But with the rebels standing guard, I’m not sure we can count on them.”

Taz shook his head. “Maybe not, but I saw how rapidly you were able to organize the isolation tent for the cholera victims. We can find a way to deal with this.”

Paige didn’t look convinced. “How? Round up volunteers who are willing to guard the perimeter of the camp?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Nick said, “but if the rebels return, there is little we can do to stop them. They’re armed, trained men who have a lot at stake.”

“We have a lot at stake as well.” The determination was back in Paige’s eyes. “The lives of these refugees. Each one of them is here out of desperation, most of them with nothing more than the shirt on their back. They have little food, and their living conditions are anything but adequate. Which means if we’re not careful we’re going to have a whole different type of emergency.”

“We’re going to need to focus on one problem at a time and find a way to run the camp with what we have.” Taz placed his hat back onto his head. “Thankfully, this standoff can’t last forever. Give the army a day or two to organize themselves and get here. The rebels might have weapons, but there can’t be that many of them.”

“Dr. Ryan?” One of the nurses set a battery-operated radio on the table. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you mentioned you wanted to hear the news updates.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Paige turned up the volume.

… these same rebels, who were involved in the attempted assassination of President Tau in November, insist that their reign of terror will continue until their commanders are not only let go, but are granted amnesty from any charges related to the slave trade they ran deep inside the Dzambizan mountains.

But while rumors continue to spread regarding the burning of villages in the north and the slaughtering of innocent people, the government continues to maintain its position that while there has been isolated instances of the rebel’s attempted uprising, the president’s army is still in control of the situation and the country is under no threat from advancing rebel forces. In an interview with one of President Tau’s spokesmen …

“Isolated instances?” Paige clicked off the radio. Surely there was someone out there who knew the truth about what was going on. “Are you telling me that they don’t have a clue about what is happening here?”

Nick let out the breath he’d been holding. “More than likely they know exactly what’s going on, but admitting the truth shows weakness in the government. And threatens things like humanitarian aid and tourism that bring in millions.”

Paige stood and moved to the end of the row of beds. “So they keep up this crazy farce that everything’s okay while people are either dying from cholera or being murdered?”

Nick shoved aside the wave of despair that threatened to overwhelm him. “Then it’s up to us to stop them.”