Blood Ransom (14 page)

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 11:51 A.M.

BOGAMA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

Nick lined up the nose of the airplane with the narrow runway on the outskirts of Bogama, then let out an audible sigh of relief as the plane touched down onto the tarmac. His unexpected trip to the capital had taken him almost eighteen hours since leaving Kasili
and
had left his plane looking like a wedge of Swiss cheese. He knew his boss wasn’t going to be happy, but at least he’d made it here alive. Now he just needed to pray that Chad and Natalie had made it as well.

He wiped off the beads of sweat on his neck. If they’d found a boat quickly and hadn’t run into any problems, there was a good chance they were already sitting in the air-conditioned lobby of the embassy. Which wasn’t a bad place to be at the moment.

If nothing else, his recent brush with death had convinced him of two things. One, he was going to take out a bigger life-insurance policy. Second, he was going to call home as soon as he could find a comfortable bed for the night and a decent phone connection.

He parked the plane, finished up the final landing checklist, then climbed down onto the steamy tarmac. Strange. The entire airport seemed to have been taken over by the military. Instead of the typical workers scattered across the runway in their bright orange jackets, uniformed military personal, tanks, and jeeps were everywhere.

Two soldiers in full uniform hollered at him as he moved to assess the damage from the bullets that riddled the belly of the plane. The men approached the plane, stopping a couple of yards in front of him. Nick rubbed his jaw, which was still sore from his last encounter with the military. He wasn’t looking forward to another unscheduled meeting.

Nick forced a smile. “I wasn’t expecting a welcome party, gentlemen.”

“Captain Gilbert?”

“Yes.”

“We’re looking for two Americans we believe were on this flight.”

Nick pulled a piece of gum from his pocket, took off the wrapper, and shoved the cinnamon stick into his mouth. What was it with these military-type guys? Apparently none of them were up for chitchat. “Which two Americans are you looking for?”

The tallest eyed the interior of the plane. “According to the flight plan, Chad Talcott and Natalie Sinclair were due late yesterday afternoon. Where are they now?”

Nick hesitated, unsure if it was even possible to get around the request. With one man holding a machine gun in his hands and the other with his fingers resting on the trigger of his holstered handgun, it wasn’t likely. “As you can see, I didn’t have any passengers on this flight. I’m here to pick up some relief workers from Australia later.”

From their grim expressions, neither seemed impressed with his answer. “Where are Talcott and Sinclair?”

“I had to make an emergency landing in the jungle last night. Ended up being a blockage in the filter.” Nick thrust his logbook, with all his notes, into the man’s hands. “It’s all right there. We spent the night at a nearby village.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Where are your passengers?”

Nick bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he’d regret. “As I already told your pals who paid me a visit in the jungle,
they needed to get to the capital in a hurry. And since I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take me to get the plane ready to fly, they decided to take a boat.”

“So they left on their own?”

“Yes.”

“How many hours ago?”

A knot formed in Nick’s stomach as he glanced at his watch. “About four, I guess.”

“And do you know where they are now?”

“No, I don’t.” Nick frowned at a second pair of uniformed men approaching. “What’s with all the extra security?”

The man handed him back the logbook. “The army has mobilized for the upcoming election.”

Mobilized? They’d all but taken over.

“We need to search the plane.”

Nick waved at the open door. “Then it’s all yours, boys.”

They hesitated for a moment. He knew the way things worked here. They wanted him to be the one who sorted through the luggage holds, seat pockets, storage areas. Well, tough. He had nothing to hide. He’d be respectful, but they could do their own dirty work.

Ten minutes later, they exited the plane. Nick folded his arms across his chest, irritated. Time was passing. If something had happened, and Chad and Natalie were still out there on the river somewhere, he couldn’t even call to let them know to be careful.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Not that he knew for sure what they’d hoped to find. It wasn’t as if he could have stashed two Americans beneath the floorboards.

“We’re going to need you to come with us.”

The knot in Nick’s stomach tightened. “I’m not sure that’s possible—”

“Oh, it’s very possible. A reward has been issued to bring them in, and you’re going to help us.”

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 3:06 P.M.

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE CONGO RIVER

Chad looked at his watch, surprised at how much time had passed. While Joseph dozed behind them in the afternoon sun, he had tried not to stare at Natalie as she answered his questions about her life in Africa and shared snippets about nights preparing dinner by candlelight and listening to the BBC over a shortwave radio.

Water lapped against the sides of the boat, rocking it gently. The sky had cleared, alleviating any chances of a storm. The last thing he’d expected during his six-month stint in the RD—besides his current position of floating down the Congo River—was meeting someone who made him want to stick around and find out more about her.

Chad cocked his head and caught her gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never had a day quite so…I don’t know.” Natalie took off her sandals and stretched out her toes. “
Scary
doesn’t seem quite strong enough an adjective.”

“
Terrifying
?”

“You’re getting closer.”

“At least you’re smiling.” Now it was his turn to chuckle. “Plus, we’re alive, and we have the photos.”

“So far, though I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever make it to the capital at this pace.” She looked up at him again. “What if we were wrong, Chad? What if the incident on the boat was some isolated attack that doesn’t have anything to do with the photos? You know the statistics as well as I do. Terrorist attacks against foreigners are rising. There are dozens of unidentified militants and rebels on the loose, magnified even greater by the upcoming election.”

Part of him longed to believe her theory that they had simply blown the entire situation out of proportion. She was searching for the same alternate answers he was. Trying to find that one inkling of truth in a situation that didn’t make sense. One excuse to abandon the precarious quest they’d begun was all he needed.

“I suppose there is that off chance that all this is nothing more than a coincidence. A couple of misdirected thugs who happen to have a deep-seated vendetta against foreigners.”

He wanted to accept her reasoning, but from the look on her face, they both knew it wasn’t true. Someone was determined to make sure no one else saw those photos.

“I knew there were risks to living here, but I guess I thought I was immune.” She pulled her legs up against her chest, facing him. “These past couple days have changed everything. It didn’t even matter that I’m here to try to help.”

He read the fear and vulnerability in her expression. It hadn’t taken much to shatter any remaining traces of safety. “It’s easy to think that because we’re trying to do this noble act for mankind, we have some sort of shield surrounding us.”

“Which means there is no assurance that something like that won’t happen again.” She pressed her lips together and blinked back tears.

“Chances are it won’t.”

“Maybe not, but what about Joseph’s family? When is someone going to put a stop to their horror?” This time she didn’t try to stop the flow of tears from streaming down her face as her voice continued
to rise. “After hundreds of more villagers are ripped from their homes, their women raped, children left starving, and their dead rotting beneath the African sun? Or maybe when another civil war erupts and thousands are butchered in the bloody coup? Do you think the rest of the world will take notice then?”

“I don’t know, Natalie.”

She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and stared out across the churning river. A crocodile splashed into the water, its head bobbing along the surface as it swam away from them. “I don’t know either.” She followed the crocodile’s trail through the water, then turned back to Chad. “We talked yesterday about coming here to make a difference, but I’m starting to wonder if I can do this anymore. It’s like when you hear about some horrid tragedy and you can’t fully grasp the reality of what has happened. This time, though, I saw the results with my own eyes, and I still can’t comprehend what happened.”

“I’m struggling with the same questions.”

She glanced up at him and caught his gaze. “Then tell me, where is God now?”

Chad struggled for answers—answers to the very same questions he was grappling with. “All I know is that man’s greed and wickedness can’t diminish God’s goodness or His plan for us. His death ransomed us along with every tribe and people group. That’s the reality I have to hold on to right now.”

She grabbed a handful of tissues from her bag and blew her nose. “I know my faith falls short in all of this, but then I think about how one of us—or maybe all three of us—might not make it out of here alive. Joseph’s family is suffering right now; his father might be dead…”

“It’s not a lack of faith, Natalie. And it’s okay to be scared.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Try and find some answers.” He knew from experience that action was one of the best strategies against fear. And at the moment, besides some fervent praying, it was the only answer he had.

“How?”

“Tell me about Patrick.”

Natalie wadded her tissues in her hand and took in a deep breath. “I think I told you that he used to be the former head of security to the president. He now leads a specialized task force that is apparently involved in investigating rumors of the Ghost Soldiers.”

“Could he be involved with the opposition?”

Her eyes widened. “I suppose. If Okella or someone in his party were willing to pay more, I’d say Patrick could be a willing candidate.”

“What about his fiancée?”

“Rachel and I used to work together in Kasili, where we became good friends. About six months ago, Patrick helped her get a job with the minister of health in the capital, which is why I want to talk to her first. She has access to information, including a compilation of demographic research for the country that might help us narrow down where Joseph’s family is.”

“And you trust her not to tell Patrick?”

“I think any information she might have is worth any risk.”

Chad paused, wondering if they were even on the right track. Without telephone access, finding out who was behind this wasn’t going to be easy. “Okay, what about Stephen?”

“For starters, he’s not nearly as compulsive as Patrick. He’s organized, educated, of course, and seems to be well respected in the community.”

“What about his weaknesses?”

“Weaknesses.” Natalie shook her head. “It’s hard to say. Stephen tends to try to pacify everyone. Even with the photos, he acted as if he didn’t want to get involved.”

Chad clasped his hands together, mulling over her answers. “I don’t know. Maybe that figures in somehow. Let’s look at another angle, then, not related to the election. Have you ever noticed any irregularities in the books, or skimming of funds?”

“Stephen runs a very tight ship and has always struck me as
honest, though indecisive.” She shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I’m sorry I don’t have more answers.”

He eyed her dressed wound. “Has the pain eased any?”

“For the most part, and I think the bleeding’s stopped.”

He leaned forward to push back a strand of her hair that had fallen out of its clip. “You’re getting a sunburn.”

Her smile, reflecting across her brown eyes, caused his heart to lurch. She was close enough that he could see the dark color that encircled her irises. He brushed his thumb across a sprinkling of freckles on her cheek and wiped away a stray tear. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d first realized it, but Natalie was exactly the kind of woman he’d spent his life looking for. And all he could manage to think about at the moment was how badly he wanted to kiss her.

“Natalie, I…” He stopped midsentence and leaned back. What was he supposed to tell her? That he wanted to kiss her? That he’d like to be sitting together with her at his favorite restaurant back in Portland right now discussing their dreams for the future and not racing toward the capital on some sort of James Bond-like mission?

“You okay?” she asked.

He dropped his gaze to the frothy water lapping against the side of the pirogue and nodded. Maybe when all of this was over…

He looked up at her again, wishing she wasn’t quite so beautiful and her lips not quite so kissable. “Do you happen to have any sunscreen in that bag of yours?”

“I think so.” Her brow lowered. “I should have thought about it hours ago.”

She dug around for a minute, then pulled out a small tube. Before he could stop her, she’d dabbed some on his nose.

“Hey!” He caught her wrist and laughed.

“I’m not the only one turning into a lobster.” She continued spreading it across his nose and cheeks while he tried to keep his thoughts in line. “Now could you get the back of my neck?”

He complied and spread the sunscreen across her neck and shoulders. Sometimes life could be so unfair.

She dug in her bag again and pulled out a package of licorice.

“Hey, forget the sunscreen.” He snatched the candy from her hand and held it up above his head.

“Now you wait just a minute. I told you I have a sweet tooth.”

He quirked a brow. “And I thought your stash was for emergencies only?”

She shot him an exasperated look. “This is an emergency. And any woman who’s been chased then left to fend for her life on a perilous escape down the Congo River at the very least deserves a gallon or two of double-fudge ice cream.”

“Possibly.”

She grasped for the candy and missed. “Unfortunately, in this situation, one small package of licorice will have to do.”

“Touché.” He tossed the candy her direction, but he wasn’t through yet. “Will half a package do?”

She glanced behind her at Joseph, who was still sleeping, then ripped open the package. “How about a third?”

Chad took his share with a grin before gazing across the churning waters of the river. The thick tangle of jungle had faded into green, rolling hills as they approached the chaotic harbor now framing the bottom of the capital’s skyline. In the distance, blocks of apartment buildings rose alongside governmental buildings and a couple of hotels built for the occasional tourists and businessmen.

Ahead of them, a ferry lowered its plank along the shore, allowing laborers to drop heavy bags of rice onto the dock below. Hordes of passengers charged up the loading dock past several wheelchair-bound polio victims struggling to make a living selling goods along the river.

Chad turned away from the confusion and looked further abroad. All they needed now was a taxi into the city…and a miracle.