Blood Covenant (19 page)

THIRTY-SEVEN

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 11:03 A.M.
REBEL BASE CAMP

… According to sources inside the Democratic Republic of Dhambizao, the notorious Ghost Soldiers continue to warn that there will be no peace in the country until international indictments for five of their leaders, arrested at the end of last year, are dropped. But there are conflicting reports as to exactly what this means.

Despite the continued government assurances, according to one reporter, the standoff between the rebel soldiers and President Tau’s ground forces has already resulted in the deaths of at least four hundred men, women, and children throughout the region. And even as talks between both parties resumed in the capital on Monday after a two-week recess, many fear that talking will do nothing to change the volatile situation.

Reliable sources have also informed us that one of the four Americans reported missing yesterday is Robert James, who is believed to have been in the country as a tourist. Mr. James, a high-profile oil executive from Houston, Texas, was climbing Mt. Maja with his daughter, actress Ashley James, who is best known for her role in the critically acclaimed American sitcom
Casey’s.

Families of the missing are asking for any information on the whereabouts of their loved ones. The U.S. Embassy said it would continue to coordinate their efforts with the State Department in Washington as well as the RD government.

In other news from the country …

Jonas switched off the radio and took a long drink of his beer, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. His fingers tightened against the bottle.

He glanced at the half dozen hostages from the refugee camp who sat on woven reed mats, then settled his gaze on the woman on the end. There was fear in her eyes, and something had nagged at him ever since his men had brought her here. For a doctor, her mannerisms were polished, but she’d hesitated, relying heavily on the Dzambizan nurses. He moved his gaze from her face to her body. Clothes and boots new, not worn, nails polished …

Something wasn’t right.

Jonas crossed the dusty courtyard, each lengthy step measured, and stopped in front of her. “Stand up.”

His reason for the raid on the camp last night had been twofold. One, he needed a doctor to deliver his child, and two, he needed continued leverage against a government that continued its foolish and futile dismissal of his demands. Now he wondered if he might have failed at both attempts.

“Who are you?”

She stood slowly, her hands trembling at her sides. Coward. He should have known she’d lied to him.

Jonas reached out and slapped her hard across the face. She stumbled backward, landing hard against the cement wall and knocking the air from her lungs. She gasped for a breath.

“Leave her alone!” The man sitting beside her jumped up, but he was too slow.

Jonas slid his gun from the back of his pants and cocked the trigger. “I would not try and play hero.” He waved the gun at the man. “Sit.”

A trickle of blood ran down the corner of the woman’s mouth. She pressed her fingers against her lips and whimpered.

Jonas was far from finished with her. “So you think I am a fool?”

Her eyes widened with terror. “Of course not, I …

“Then why did you lie to me? You are not a doctor, are you?”

“Yes … no …” Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. “I never said I was a doctor.”

“But you implied as much.”

He’d told Ngozi that he was willing to risk his life for revenge, but if he did, it would be on his terms. He was tired of being played. He cursed under his breath. First the government, then the army, and now this American … No. He’d risen from the bottom ranks as a child soldier to become a leader who could demand what he wanted when he wanted it. Power, women, drink, whatever he wanted was at his disposal. And no one would be allowed to take away what was rightfully his.

“What’s your name?”

“Ashley … Ashley James.”

“You fool.” He spat on the ground beside her, then pointed to his wife, Eshe. “She could have died because of your foolishness.”

Eshe lay on a mat beneath the shade of a mango tree with their newborn child nestled at her breast. He knew the complications childbirth brought with it and he had heard her screams in the night as she struggled to free the child from her womb. Ashley James was lucky the ancestors had granted the child safe entrance into the world, or she wouldn’t be standing in front of him right now.

Ashley’s chest heaved. “The other women, they knew what to do. So when you assumed I was a doctor, I didn’t want you to kill me … like my father.”

Jonas slid the barrel of his gun down her jawline, feeling no pity for her loss. Death had become a frequent visitor, starting with his own parents when he was eight. He’d watched the soldiers hack them to death before they’d given him the ax and forced him to butcher his three sisters. Twenty years later, the scenario had replayed over and over again in his head when government soldiers turned on him and murdered his first wife and four children in front of him …

He pushed away the haunting memories. He was done working for anyone other than himself. Instead, he let the feeling of power work its way through him like a drug and smiled, knowing that if he wanted to, he could snuff out her life with one slight pull of the trigger.

Yara grabbed onto his leg and held on.

“Eshe, come get the child.” He looked down at Yara, momentarily distracted. Big, brown eyes, a reflection of his own, stared back at him. He ordered her to return to her mother, but instead her chubby fists tightened around his leg.

Ngozi walked up from behind him, grabbed the child, and handed Jonas another beer. “Let the American be for now. Even if she’s not a doctor, she’s more useful to us alive than dead. And besides, we have planning to do.”

Jonas popped off the metal cap with his back teeth. “She lied to me about who she is.”

“It doesn’t matter. You have a bigger bargaining chip now. You heard the radio broadcast. Her family has money. They’ll do anything to keep her alive.”

“He’s right.” Ashley’s eyes pleaded with him. “My family will pay anything for my safety out of here. Please.”

Jonas pulled back his hand to slap her again for interrupting then stopped, instead letting the idea of a ransom play around in his head. Perhaps his original intention of using her as a pawn in this game was too shortsighted. “I suppose the daughter of an oil executive and a well-known celebrity could be worth something. We take the money and once the others are released, we disappear into the DRC or maybe down into South Africa.”

“Do you have a satellite phone?” Ashley asked.

He nodded.

“You can call my family and have them transfer what you want into an off-shore account.”

Jonas smiled. Things were working out better than he’d hoped. The ransom money would guarantee them the resources they needed to win this war. He glanced at the other American and the nurses who’d been kidnapped from the camp. He’d keep them alive as continued leverage with the UN. For now.

“Get the satellite phone.” He nodded at Ngozi before turning back to the American. “I have a friend who will be pleased to make the arrangements with your family. It’s time to see just how much your life is worth, Miss James.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 11:27 A.M.
NEAR THE VILLAGE OF DZANDONI, KINGANI REGION

Sunlight streamed through the edges of the tree line as the forest opened up into a thick savannah. Beyond the tall grasses waving in the morning breeze, fields of cassava spread out along the landscape, finally meeting a road that meant help.

Nick squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. “How much farther?”

Samson pointed toward the dirt road. “The nearest village shouldn’t be far. Three, four kilometers at the most.”

Nick pulled off his baseball cap and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, thankful to be out of the seclusion of the forest. They might still be in the middle of nowhere due to the lack of modern conveniences, but he still felt as if he’d reached civilization. He glanced at his arms, eaten alive by the mosquitoes. “After the past few hours of hiking through the jungle, a dirt road sounds like a walk in the park, if you ask me.”

“No kidding.” Brandon glanced at Nigel, who stood half a dozen paces ahead of them, then turned back to Nick. “If you ask me, we’re lucky we made it through there alive.”

Nick caught his meaning, but was still not convinced that Nigel was a mole. If he was working with the rebels, chances were they’d all be dead by now. That fact made him want to give Nigel the benefit of the doubt.

“How’s your hand?” Nick called out to Nigel, who held up the wounded limb. “The bleeding seems to have stopped, though it still hurts like hell.”

Samson quickened his steps. “There’s a small clinic in this town where they should be able to bandage you up properly.”

Nick held up his cell phone and searched for a signal.

Nothing.

So much for modern conveniences. He turned to Samson. “You’re sure there’s a cell tower in this town?”

“I can’t guarantee what the soldiers have done to it, but yes. There is one.”

“Let’s hope so, because I’m not feeling too keen on extending today’s trek to the next village.”

And as far as he was concerned, the quicker he could get back to the camp the better. Leaving Paige and the others at the mercy of the rebels had soured his stomach, because he’d gone that route before. If anything happened to her — to any of them — he’d never forgive himself.

Thirty-five minutes later, they stood at the edge of the village of Dzandoni. Wooden stalls lining the main road were bursting with activity as dozens of sellers competed for customers. If the rebels had been through this village, there would be nothing left to sell. Perhaps it was simply a matter of time.

Nigel undid the top button of his shirt, an action that no doubt did little to alleviate the sweltering heat. “I need to get something to eat.”

Nick swallowed any remaining suspicions and nodded. “What about you, Samson? Do you need something?”

“I’m fine for now.” Samson leaned up against a tree in front of a brightly painted shop, advertising Coke and selling everything from liquor to car parts to fabric. “I’ll just wait here for you.”

Nick nodded. “Then let’s all meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

He watched Nigel walk toward the market. If the man was one of the rebels, there was nothing he could do at this point. He held up his phone and prayed for a signal.

Two bars.

“Anything?” Brandon asked.

“There’s a signal, but it’s not great.”

Nick headed toward the edge of town where the cell tower loomed, then stopped and turned to Brandon. “I think we should follow Nigel.”

“So my suspicions are rubbing off?”

Nick tugged on the bill of his baseball cap, unable to ignore his unease. If Nigel was with the rebels, he probably had a way to communicate with them. And having their position compromised wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. “Yeah, along with a bit of my own gut instinct.”

“I saw him turn into the market.”

“Then let’s go.”

They rushed back down the dirt road and entered the market from the west. Women sat behind colorful piles of fruit — mangos, bananas, and papaya — and vegetables — onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers. Nick searched the crowded venue for Nigel’s red shirt.

Brandon spotted him first. “There he is!”

“He’s got a radio!” Nick started running, barely avoiding a collision with a woman carrying a large bowl of pineapples on her head. “Nigel?”

Nigel hesitated for a moment, then turned to run farther into the market. Nick quickened his pace, dodging customers along the narrow aisle as he ran past a row of bicycle parts, but Nigel was too far ahead.

Samson appeared on the other side of Nigel, running toward them and forcing Nigel to search for another escape, which gave Nick and Brandon time to catch up. Nigel spun around, clipping the corner of a wooden table full of dried fish as he turned. The table tipped, spilling piles of the fly-covered fish across the narrow pathway.

Nigel dropped the radio as Samson grabbed his arm and pinned him against the ground. “I had a feeling this man was dirty. Philip’s death … it was too easy.”

“We thought the same thing.” Nick kicked aside one of the fish, ignoring the barrage of onlookers gathering and the shopkeeper’s protests. “You’ve been in radio contact with the rebel base camp the whole time, haven’t you? Then Philip found out that you were the mole and you killed him.”

Nigel spat at the ground, barely missing Nick’s shoe. “Do what you want, because it doesn’t matter. In the end we will win.”

Nigel reached for the radio, but Samson’s grip held him tight.

Nick picked up the radio. “Don’t even try it. What did you tell them?”

Nigel didn’t respond.

Brandon stood beside Nick. “Why not just kill us all when you had the chance?”

“I was told to bring in the Americans alive.”

Samson tightened his grip. “So I would have been next?”

“If you’d started asking questions.”

Samson looked at Nick. “What do we do with him?”

“Good question.” Nick folded his arms across his chest. “I say we hand him over to the crowd. I don’t think they will take too kindly to having one of the Ghost Soldiers back in town.”

Nigel jerked his head back. “They will kill me.”

“Probably.” Nick folded his arms. “Which means we now hold the advantage. Tell me what the plan is and what you told your boss when you checked in just now, and we might make sure they don’t feed your dead body to the vultures.”

“I …”

“You can start with the plan.”

“Fine. I was just supposed to watch you and check in every twelve hours. If there was a plan to bring in the army, I was supposed to tell them where and how many.”

“What did you tell them just now?”

“Nothing, I — ”

“The deal was that you tell us everything so we don’t feed you to the lions.”

“They know that there were five of us who left to get help, but I couldn’t pick up radio signal in the forest, so they don’t know where we are. I didn’t have a chance.”

Brandon folded his arms across his chest. “Do you believe him?”

“No.” Nick shook his head. “But whether we like it or not, this is a situation for the authorities to handle. Not us. Keep your eyes on him, Samson. I’ve got a call to make.”

“Trust me. He will not be going anywhere.”

Nick walked out of the noisy market until his phone registered four bars. Five minutes later he was finally connected with Paul Hayes at the embassy.

“Paul, this is Nick Gilbert.”

“Nick, it’s been a long time. I thought I heard you’d left the country after last November’s fiasco in the capital, but then your name showed up across my desk a couple hours ago as one of the aid workers still up in the Kingani region. Where exactly are you? Our offices have been trying to reach the camp the past forty-eight hours, with no luck.”

“That would be because rebels shot down my plane and have cut off all access points and communication. Several of us managed to slip past them and hike through the forest so we could get cell-phone coverage, but these guys mean business. Besides a recent attack on the camp, they’re holding six people as hostages, including two Americans and four of the local medical staff.”

“What do you know about the group climbing Mt. Maja?”

Nick stared at the ground, hating being the deliverer of all the bad news. “Robert James is dead. He was killed up on the mountain Monday night during a raid.”

“And his daughter?”

“She was in the group taken hostage. The two other hikers, Brandon and Jodi Collins, are alive. There were also four Canadians scheduled to come down the mountain the next day, but so far we haven’t heard from them.” Nick scuffed his foot against the ground. It was time he got some answers as well. “I need to know what can be done about the situation in the camp. We figured someone would have figured out something was wrong by now and sent in the army.”

“The local military is stretched to the limit, and until Washington decides to intervene, my hands are tied.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I haven’t given up yet, but I’m going to need some time.”

“Time is one thing we don’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

Nick shifted his weight to his other foot. When he’d flown Black Hawks for the air force, they were always ready. Choppers fueled up. But limited resources here changed the picture completely. Which put lives on the line.

“There’s another issue that we need to deal with. On top of the cholera, there’s an outbreak of measles about to erupt in the refugee camp. With enough vaccinations, we might be able to curb the spread. Dr. Ryan said if you contact Volunteers of Hope, they were already in the process of putting together a large-scale vaccine campaign and should have the vaccines available. The biggest issue, then, will be the logistics of getting them past the rebels and into the camp.”

“Sounds simple enough.” Paul groaned. “I might not have access to a U.S. warship or their marines, but I could work on getting a couple helicopters and a few marines and local soldiers together until I can get the ground forces up there.”

“How long to pull something like that together?”

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly prepared to launch a large-scale mission, but I’ll do what I can.”

“According to Dr. Ryan, we’ve got a window of about forty-three more hours to put a curb on this disease before it starts spreading like wildfire.”

“I’ll have to come up with some sort of leverage with the government to get them moving.”

Nick sighed, irritated at the amount of red tape when lives were at stake. Unless … “What if I told you I had something to get them moving?”

“Like?”

“Knowledge of where the rebel base camp is.”

“You know where it is?”

“We’ve got it narrowed down. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got a guy who could lead you there.” Nick passed on the location he’d circled earlier on the map.

“Paired with satellite photos, this might give us enough for our intelligence people to work with. The government needs the rebels out of the picture as much as you do, which also means I should be able to get what I ask for, including military backup.”

“How long?”

“Let me make a few phone calls and see what I can do.”

“What about us?”

“Can you get to Kingani?”

“Theoretically we should be able to take public transport, but why Kingani?”

“I want you to work with Digane and the officials there to see if you can coordinate another ground shipment of supplies to the camp, this time under heavy guard. I’ll call you as soon as I have a timetable for the vaccines and military support.”

A minute later, Nick flipped his phone shut, then turned to Brandon and Samson. “Looks like it’s time to hitch a ride.”