Pushing Up Daisies (15 page)

The endless bouncing and jostling over rough terrain stopped and the voices of the men announced they were taking a break. She tried to figure how long it would take them to drive to the coast. They'd escaped in a helicopter and covered a lot of ground fast. These pirates must really want her to follow her into Kenya.

A rough hand grabbed her and yanked her out of the back of the vehicle. Her legs were like rubber and wouldn't hold her up. She collapsed in a heap. The bag was stripped off her head along with the veil and the bonds on her hands removed. Two girls sat hollow-eyed across from her. They looked thirteen or fourteen. Their youth made them valuable commodities because they were probably virgins.

One of the captors thrust bottles of water at them. Sarah took a bottle, uncapped it and drank, relishing the tepid wetness. She'd lost a lot of moisture sweating in the back of the vehicle. “Drink,” she said to the two girls in Arabic.

Sarah inhaled deeply of the hot, dry air of the desert. It felt great to be rid of the bag and the veil. She looked west and saw the sun sinking behind the mountains of Ethiopia. It was almost dark. House had gone to schedule a pickup. She knew House. He would come for her and to exact revenge for Daisy's killing. He wouldn't rest until he killed all of them.

She grabbed the robe of one of her captors and said in perfect Somali. “We need to go to the bathroom.”

He used an old AK-47 to indicate a rock. “Go there,” he told her.

“Come girls, we may not get another opportunity for a long time. We are far from anywhere.”

As she walked toward the clump of rust-colored rocks, she glanced behind her. The pirates weren't even worried they would run. There was nowhere to run to. She turned to walk to the rock pile as they removed jerry cans from the backs of the Rovers and filled the gas tanks.

Once behind the rocks, she told the girls to pee and turned to keep watch. She didn't trust the pirates not to try to catch a glimpse of the girls. When they were done, she squatted without pulling up her burqa and peed while the girls watched for her.

After checking to make sure they were alone, she drew them close. “House will come for us. You must be brave and not anger these men in any way. They are killers and you're only value is your looks and your virginity. You don't want them to beat you. If you lose too much value, they will use you for themselves. Do you understand what I mean?”

Both girls were trembling with fear, their dark eyes huge in frightened faces. They nodded and clutched each other.

“What's your name?” She asked the tallest and prettiest girl.

“Dimah.”

“And you,” Sarah asked the other girl.

“Fayruz.”

Sarah nodded. “Come on. If we take too long they will beat us or worse.”

Back at the two vehicles, the pirates handed her a protein bar and gave one to each of the girls. He lifted Dimah's chin. “You will make me rich.” He laughed and let her go.

Tears filled Dimah's eyes. But she brushed them away and straightened her back, glancing at Sarah. Sarah nodded. The girls understood.

Sarah munched on a protein bar she recognized as part of aid packages passed out by the U.N. The pirates were famous for stealing aid packages and food meant for the starving people of Somalia.

When they were loaded into the back seat of the Rover, the same pirate who removed her bonds replaced them but allowed the girls to get into the vehicle without tying their hands behind their backs. The man used stiff wire. He wrapped her wrists and then twisted it until it was tight. The wire had already cut into her skin and now it was even tighter. The pain was terrible, but she did not cry or complain. She kept seeing the blood leaking from Daisy's mouth. She wanted the man who had killed Daisy to die.

Daisy's killer was driving. He was a tall black man. He'd removed his robe and now wore a red T-shirt and khaki shorts. His skin was very black and his head shaved. He laughed often and talked about the huge sum of money the U.N. had offered for her return and of the plans he had to sell Dimah. Apparently he had to give Fayruz to another pirate for allowing him to use the extra Rover. When he smiled, she saw he had a gold-capped eye tooth. He never mentioned Coop or Freidrick. Maybe they'd already been ransomed.

As the sun set and the land turned dark, the pirates switched on their headlights. The barren landscape became illuminated by two beams of yellow light. The one thought in Sarah's head was the lights would give their location away, especially if House used a bird to search for them.

She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to rest. She felt the lump of gold in her dress pocket and reached under her burqa to pull it out. Did it help her see ghosts? She squeezed the gold until it was warm and silky-smooth in her hands. “Daisy,” she whispered. “Did you die? Are you close?”

She felt warm breath on her left ear. The voice she heard was soft and felt like it was in her head. “I'm with you.”

Sarah felt a flood of warmth rush through her body. Tears flooded her eyes and she fought to keep from sobbing. She touched her heart. “Love you,” she whispered so the men couldn't hear.

“I love you, too,” she heard. When she turned her head to look, she got a quick glimpse of Daisy's face, her hair a dark cloud around her head, her eyes red. Sarah had never seen Daisy's hair loose. She'd always kept it braided. As she stared at her friend, Daisy blew her a kiss and morphed into a huge black wolf with the signature red streak running across its head and into its ruff. She howled once and was gone.

When Daisy howled, Dimah opened her eyes. “What was that?”

Sarah wished she could reach out and comfort the girl. She had the blood of shifters in her veins and she'd heard Daisy's voice from the grave.

Sarah fell back against the seat and closed her eyes. What could Daisy possibly do to help as a ghost? Still, being able to see her and feel her love, gave Sarah strength. She squeezed the golden snake hard and thought of Gopher. No matter how hard she squeezed and concentrated, Gopher did not appear.

* * * *

House and Nasr knew where the pirates had gone. They were following their own trail back to the coast. The long wait for the helicopter to come was almost more than House could handle. He paced, cleaned his weapons, and paced some more as the tribe prepared Hanifa's body for a funeral.

All the dry wood for miles was collected and placed in a huge pile. Abdalla was unable to talk to him. His grief had him incapacitated. He sat with his back to a tent and stared at the preparations for his wife's cremation. Nasr found House. He brought an AK-47 and several hand guns, sat next to House and began cleaning them.

House had Daisy's two handguns, her forty-five and her thirty-eight. He took the big Glock and handed it to Nasr. “Here, Daisy would want you to use it to revenge her death and for Sarah.”

“Thank you for this incredible gift.” Nasr took the gun but his eyes were for Daisy's M-4.

“I'm gonna hang onto this,” House said. “If we need it, it will be there for us to use.”

House just couldn't give Daisy's rifle away. It had been part of her and along with her coins had a lot of meaning for him.

They spotted the helicopter approaching just after ten. House was overjoyed to see they'd sent a Jolly Green Giant, the Sikorsky MH-3E. It had a range of eight-hundred miles and held twenty-eight men. The Company must have been worried about the range and now House prayed they had enough fuel to make the coast. “We're on,” House said to Nasr. “You coming?”

The young man leaped to his feet. “I will regain my aunt's daughters and do honor to my name.”

“Good man.” House clapped him on the back and they ran for the descending helicopter. A three-man team hopped out and stood with their guns trained on the landscape, night-vision goggle harnesses fitted to their heads. House stepped out of the shadows with his arms raised. They recognized him by signaling with their rifles. When Nasr stepped out beside him, they pointed the rifles at his chest.

House ran to the bird. “He's with me. I lost the package. The pirates attacked and we need to reacquire,” he said tersely to the team leader.

He knew these guys. The team leader was in his forties, call sign Rabbit. The shooter was a woman. She held her M-203 with authority. Her call sign was Bombshell. She was blond and hot and a very bad chick. The other member of the team was a medic, call sign Freakshow. He'd been retired from the military when his face was badly burned in a Humvie accident.

The Company didn't care if you were scarred. As long as your skills remained intact, you were good. The Company was an equal-opportunity employer. Race, color, gender, looks, none of that meant anything to the Company. It was all about your skills and Freakshow was a hell of a medic and scary-good with a knife.

Rabbit held out his hand to help House into the bird. “What's her twenty? We going after her? Where's Daisy?”

“We lost Daisy. The pirates who snatched the U.N. chick have the package. I need some payback and we need to recover Sarah.”

Rabbit nodded. “Give us some coordinates.”

“Can't,” House said as Nasr loaded into the bird and the pilot lifted off. “There's a clear trail leading back to the coast. We can follow it. Give me a set of NVG.”

Rabbit handed him night vision goggles and House took the front seat next to the pilot. He had the pilot circle, picked up the trail and pointed. The pilot aimed the bird along the ridge and they took off after Sarah.

The pirates had a six-hour lead and could probably max out over this terrain at thirty or forty miles per hour. The helicopter could go over a hundred-fifty miles an hour, but they were following a very faint trail across the desert. House had to focus hard to keep it in front of them. Twice he lost it and they had to circle.

The Rizeigat camp was over fifteen hundred klicks from the coast. It must have taken the pirates almost two solid days of driving to get to them, more if they were tracking.

House started thinking about how they could have found them as far away as they were. He concluded though they'd escaped in the bird, their long walk had given the pirates plenty of time plus a burned-out Company bird as a landmark and the Bedouins had left a huge trail; all those camels and people.

It was even possible the pirates and al Shebab could have been in contact with al Qaida who knew the location of one of their camps and could have tracked the phone to the area around the second camp. House's money was on the al Qaida connection because they had been found so quickly.

It didn't matter anymore how they'd been found. All that mattered was finding Sarah and killing the gold-toothed bastard that put Daisy down.

The Sikorsky's range was eight hundred miles. If they didn't locate the pirates en route, they might not make it to the coast. House gnawed at his fingernails and kept staring at the ground trying to see tire tracks through the gritty-green glare of the NVG.

They crossed the border into Somalia, skirting a low group of mountains, mostly just hills. The chain of mountains was ancient and worn from centuries of wind and little rain. He lost the track twice and they had to circle. House sat on the edge of his seat, his heart hammering with fear they would lose the trail or run out of fuel before they found them.

They used a road to guide them as they crossed the mountains. The tracks of the Rovers disappeared on the road. House had no choice but to assume they were using it. The road entered a small town, Beledweyne, and House lost the trail. He figured the raiders must be on the road heading toward Ethiopia to make time. Even though the road took them a little out of the way, they could increase their speed and the distance covered.

House mopped sweat off his face as they followed the road until it cut northeast toward the coast, a typical Somali road, little more than a dirt track heading nowhere.

“Follow the road, it's gotta be the way they went,” he told the pilot and sat back against the seat.

“You need to chill,” Rabbit said from behind him. “I ain't never seen you this worked up over anything. You're usually Mr. Cool.”

House growled and Rabbit handed him a can of dip. “Here, take a pinch. It'll help.”

He flicked off the top, gathered a pinch of tobacco and crammed it between his cheek and gum with practiced ease. The soothing effect quieted his nerves, but the rush of nicotine kept him alert.

They passed west of a small village. The tracks were easy to see on the sandy road running close to the Ethiopian border. When they'd gone five hundred klicks, they spotted a dust plume racing across the flat land along the road. House's heart raced. “That's gotta be them,” he said to the pilot, turned in his seat and waved to Rabbit.

The team leader stuck his head into the cockpit. “Whatta ya got?”

House pointed. Rabbit checked out the dust plume. “I don't see any headlights.”

“Could be running with NVG.”

“Why would they do that?” Rabbit said. “Do they expect you to come after them?”

“Don't know. If it was me, I'd expect it.”

“But they ain't you and they don't know who they pissed off,” Rabbit said with a chuckle.

The Sikorsky caught up with the dust plume in seconds and swooped down. It turned out to be a herd of camels running for their lives in front of a cheetah. House clearly saw the cheetah catch a young camel and bring it down. The camels kept running.

“Fuck!” House swore. He'd gone off the actual trail of the Rovers to chase camels. Now he had to circle and find it. The camel tracks added another level of difficulty. The so-called road was virtually impossible to spot. It was just a packed-down area of brown dirt in the arid landscape.

When House finally located the two Rovers' tire tracks, they'd lost twenty minutes and wasted more fuel.

“Looks like they're following the road to make time,” Rabbit said.