Blood Covenant (20 page)

THIRTY-NINE

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 12:57 P.M.
U.S. EMBASSY, RD

Paul dropped his cell phone onto his desk, hoping he hadn’t just made a promise he couldn’t keep. Putting together a rescue operation wasn’t the biggest problem he faced. The greater obstacle was going to be actually getting the vaccine into the camp, and all foreigners out, before things escalated even further.

Nick’s report wasn’t all that had his head pounding like a jackhammer. He dug through his top drawer for another round of cold medicine and a couple of pain relievers before buzzing for Mercy. He’d finally talked with Maggie on the phone early this morning. She’d listened to his apologies and excuses, then told him her ultimatum still stood. He’d used every tactic in the book to try and get her to see things his way, but she was as stubborn as they came. Funny how her tenacity had been one of the things that had attracted him to her in the beginning.

But that had nothing to do with his current dilemma. Like it or not, he couldn’t just walk away from this job. Or could he? The decision burned in his gut. Walking away meant putting the lives of dozens of American citizens in further danger. And staying meant losing his kids and the one woman he’d ever loved.

“Mitch Peterson, Ashley James’ fiancé, is on the phone again.”

He glanced up at Mercy, who stood in the doorway, and groaned. Mitch Peterson was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. Ashley’s fiancé might have his sympathy because of the situation, but that was it. He had no patience for the man’s presumptuous attitude or his belief that he wasn’t doing his job. Drag him away from his plush life and plop him in the middle of nowhere, with no telephone lines, cell-phone service, or other means of communication, and see how long he survived. Maybe then he’d understand what they were up against.

Paul downed the cold medicine with a swig of lukewarm water. “Tell him I’ll call him back. Right now, I want the deputy of foreign affairs on the phone.”

“I’ll …” Mercy hesitated. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Wait.” Paul waved her back. He was going to play this game differently. “Forget the phone. Tell the deputy I want him here in my office.”

Mercy’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t see how—”

“Simply tell him I have information that we believe will lead to the whereabouts of the rebel base camp. That might get him moving.”

Mercy’s frown faded. “I’m on it, sir.”

James Ngani took the bait. Forty-five minutes later he arrived at the embassy and was immediately ushered into Paul’s office.

Paul stood by the window, arms crossed, drinking some nasty herbal tea Mercy had convinced him would relieve his cold symptoms. It might, if the taste didn’t kill him first.

Paul nodded to one of the open chairs on the other side of his desk. “Thanks for coming. Have a seat.”

While waiting for the deputy’s arrival, he’d had time to put in a dozen calls to organize the delivery of the vaccines. He’d done his part. Now he just had to convince Ngani that his government needed to do theirs.

Ngani remained in the doorway, suspicion clear in his expression. “The only reason I’m here is because I was told you have information about the location of the rebel base camp. If this is another attempt on your part to accuse my government of not doing their job …”

“I know why you’re here. Have a seat.”

Ngani hesitated. “Where’s the camp?”

Paul motioned again to the open chair, then sat down behind his desk. “Here’s the deal. I’ve got a situation that has just come up, and we’re going to play this my way. We all know that despite the gallant efforts of your government to make it look as if you’re in control, that’s far from the reality of the situation.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand what? The fact that your government is hiding behind a bunch of lies and people are dying because of it?”

He knew all too well the complications of the situation and the probable consequences of his lack of diplomacy, but he was done playing games. The situation in the refugee camp was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. As food became scarcer and nerves began to fray, violence would grow. It had to be stopped now.

“I just received a phone call from an American humanitarian worker still in the Kingani region,” he continued. “Apparently, despite your government’s reassurances, the refugee camp is now in control of the rebels, and has been for the last forty-eight hours or so. We already know that the convoy full of supplies was hijacked by the rebels, which means that food and medicine will be running out soon. I need to organize an air transport of supplies, including a measles vaccine, to the camp.”

“Measles?”

Paul clinched, then released his fists. He wasn’t going to listen to a bunch of excuses. “On top of the cholera crisis, there’s been an outbreak of measles in the camp that will become an epidemic if we don’t do something about it.”

Ngani’s tone changed. “What else do you need from me?”

“I’ve already contacted Volunteers for Hope International here in the capital and they are working on getting the vaccine ready for transport, but it has to arrive at the camp quickly in order for it to be effective.”

“I’ll work on the transport.”

“And I’ll send four of my marines with your pilots and crew. I want two helicopters and your best men.” Paul folded his hands in front of him. “And I want them in the air, along with sufficient ground cover, in the next twenty-four hours.”

“That’s not possible — ”

“Why? Because sending in the army would be admitting that the government isn’t in control? I want you to make this possible. While your government is worried about the UN discovering the situation has soured, your people are dying. In exchange, I’ll provide you with our intel on the rebel base location.”

“Do you even have the exact location of the camp?”

“I’ll have the exact location by the time those helos are ready to take off.”

Ngami stood, looking as if he was still debating on his answer. Finally he tugged on the bottom of his suit coat and nodded. “I’ll call you as soon as I can arrange something.”

As soon as Ngani had left, Paul closed his eyes, grateful the conversation was over. Somehow, he was going to find a way to save these people — and his marriage — at the same time.

FORTY

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 4:12 P.M.
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN DZANDONI AND KINGANI

Nick’s head smacked against the back of the seat, jarring him from a restless sleep. He fought to remember where he was. The smell of perspiration and diesel filled the humid air. A chicken squawked, a baby cried … His eyes focused on the battered leather suitcase halfway across his lap and the plump woman beside him as his memory began to clear.

Samson leading them through the forest, Philip lying in the ravine, Nigel’s confession, talking to Paul at the embassy …

It had taken forty-five minutes to fill the derelict taxi that ran from Dzandoni to Kingani, and according to the heap-of-junk’s driver, it would take another hour-plus to reach their destination. If they managed to make it there without breaking down.

The taxi hit a pothole, smacking his knees against a metal bar in the seat in front of him. He glanced around the crowded van. Seventeen people were crammed into the twelve-passenger vehicle and with the way his luck was running, they’d stop and pick up more in the next town.

Brandon sat next to him, looking far more alert than Nick felt. “You’ve been sleeping.”

Nick glanced at his watch. “How long?”

“Not long, but I don’t know how you can sleep at all. When you mentioned hitching a ride, I wasn’t counting on putting my life into the hands of some maniac driver.”

Nick slowly rolled his neck and shoulders to work out the kinks, then jumped to his feet while the van rumbled beneath him. “You should have waked me up.”

“Why? There’s nothing you need to do — Samson’s got it under control.”

“I suppose you’re right. Nigel’s not going anywhere.”

Nigel sat against the window next to Samson in the seat in front of them. Bringing him with them had seemed like the safest thing to do at the moment.

Nick took off his cap and wiped the sweat off his forehead as they passed a scattering of compounds with mud-brick dwellings and thatched roofs. Little changed in the scenery beyond trees, compounds, and the occasional town.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Nick glanced at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. Three bars meant they were near a town, but there were no missed calls, no messages. Which hopefully meant that the plan was still on track. But that didn’t take away the gnawing feeling in his gut. “I just can’t shake this bad feeling.”

“What are you worried about?”

“Nigel might not have been able to let the rebel leaders in on the plan, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know exactly where we are.”

Brandon unzipped his backpack and started digging for something. “Stop being paranoid. You’ve been watching too many movies.”

Nick laughed. “I wish. The last time I saw a decent movie was … I don’t even remember.”

“It’s just as well.” Brandon pulled out a couple of power bars and tossed one to Nick. “Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Just remember that this is the RD.” Brandon handed another one of the bars to Samson, who nodded his thanks. “And from what I’ve gathered in my short time here, no one has the resources of a specialized ops team, including the rebels.”

“Maybe, but the rebels are not only organized and well armed, but they’ve got a collection of satellite and VHF radio equipment they’ve managed to get a hold of.”

Which meant they were probably at least as well equipped or better equipped than the army. And Nick had left the camp, and everyone in it, as vulnerable as a battalion in the middle of a war zone with no means for cover. Things never should have gotten this far out of hand.

Nick’s phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket and took the call. It was Paul. “I’m hoping this means you have some good news?”

“It’s progress. I spoke with one of the administrators with Volunteers for Hope, and not only do they have the vaccine, they are able to help.”

Nick pressed his fingers against his other ear so he could hear better. Procuring Volunteers for Hope’s help was the easy part. “And the help we’ll need from the local army?”

“I also had a conversation with the deputy of foreign affairs. I think we’ll get what we want.”

Nick breathed out a sigh of relief and gave Brandon a thumbs-up. “So I guess we got our miracle.”

“Your info on the camp ended up being the trump card, but while we might have narrowed it down, we’re going to need an exact location in the next few hours.”

“What kind of time frame are we looking at?”

“Another twenty-four hours.”

Nick weighed the situation. At least with the vaccine and other needed supplies on their way, they’d have a chance to get the situation at the camp under control. Now they’d just have to hold off the rebels as well.

The line crackled. They were almost out of the cell tower’s range.

“Listen, the line’s breaking up. I’ll call you as soon as we get to Kingani.”

“I’ll wait for your call, and Nick—”

The phone went dead, cutting off Paul’s response. Nick flipped his phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket. At least they were making some progress.

The van hit another pothole, then started slowing down.

“Flat tire?”

“I don’t think so.” Nick strained his neck and looked out the window. The van was pulling off to the side of the road. “Police stop. It shouldn’t take long.”

Nick’s attention shifted to the four armed policemen approaching the van. Their driver rolled down his window and started speaking rapidly in Dha. A twinge of concern twisted in his gut. This wasn’t a typical license check. Something was wrong.

One of the policemen pulled open the side door of the van and cocked his weapon. “Everyone out of the van now.”

Nick filed out behind the others, climbing over empty bottles of beer and luggage in the process. “And you thought I’d been watching too many movies.”

“Rebels?”

“That’s my guess. The police don’t typically force passengers to unload.”

“Unless they’re looking for rebels.”

One of the men cocked his gun and pointed it at Nick’s face. “Or unless they’re looking for us.”

“On your knees.”

Nick dropped to his knees beside Brandon.

“How’d they know we were here?”

“I don’t know.”

Nick searched for a way out, but a half dozen machine guns pointed in his direction didn’t leave him with many options.

One of the rebels stopped in front of him. “Nick Gilbert?”

Now how in the world did he know that? “Yeah.”

He shoved the nozzle of the gun beneath Nick’s chin. “You and your buddies here are coming with me. But please don’t try anything heroic. Or you will not wake up to see another day.”