Blood Ransom (4 page)

He’d seen enough of Africa to know that there was often a fine line between truth and lies, and that embellishments were more often than not rolled into the facts. And there was nothing Natalie could do to change things even if the existence of the Ghost Soldiers was proven to be true.

“I have to consider the fact that he’s telling the truth.” She rubbed her temples with her fingers. “But I’ll also concede that the upcoming election has me on edge.”

“Which is all the more reason not to overreact.”

“Maybe.” Natalie started walking back toward the exam room. “I need to get going. I was planning on throwing a party for my boss tonight at my house, but I can still make sure Joseph rests tonight.”

“And then?”

She stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know. The authorities are occupied with the upcoming election. I doubt they have the time or resources to investigate Joseph’s story.”

He reached out and gently squeezed her forearm with his fingers. “Don’t get involved in this, Natalie. If you have to, call your boss or your senator back home—or forget about it for all I care. But don’t get involved.”

A hint of anger registered in her eyes. “You’ve turned cynical.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “No. I’m a realist. I decided to return because of my love for the people. It’s the corruption and suffering I hate. And as much as I’d like to take it all away…realistically, I know I can’t.”

“Joseph mentioned something else too.” She stared down the hall at the examination room. “He overheard two of the men speaking in English. They inferred that they’d be in power in four more days, that President Tau would be taken care of, and that they had the support
of this district behind him. Which sounds to me like the election’s being set so the opposition wins.”

“The election is rigged?” Chad’s stomach muscles clenched. “That’s hard to believe. The UN has an election committee in place to ensure something like this doesn’t happen. Forget about this. Just go home and make sure Joseph gets some rest.”

“I’ll go home.” She turned and caught his gaze. “But if Joseph is telling the truth, then the lives of a whole village—and perhaps the entire country—are at stake.”

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 8:14 P.M.

NATALIE’S HOUSE, KASILI

“So what are you saying, Patrick? That the United Nations is using the Republic of Dhambizao as a poster child for fair and peaceful African elections?” Natalie set another bowl of homemade salsa on the wooden table next to the vegetable tray and frowned.

As she’d expected, Patrick Seko had waylaid the conversation to fit his own political agenda, leaving little openings for topics other than the country’s upcoming elections. But while she hadn’t wanted a political debate at tonight’s birthday celebration, if Joseph was right and there were plans of a presidential takeover, it wouldn’t hurt to find out everything she could about the election. And Patrick was the perfect place to start.

“ ‘A poster child.’ I like that.” Patrick picked up a handful of fried plantain chips and popped one into his mouth. “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” His tall, burly stature hovered over Rachel’s tiny figure as she stood beside him finishing a plate of curry and rice. “And if something does happen to go wrong, we blame it on the election committee. Either way, we come out looking good.”

“Another violent election won’t make anyone look good, Patrick, and you know it.” Stephen balanced his plastic plate on his lap and picked up his drink from the floor beside him.

“Stephen’s right.” Natalie scooped a spoonful of the salsa onto her plate. “I’d like to know what kind of security measures are being implemented so history doesn’t repeat itself.”

Patrick grinned, clearly in his element. “I can assure you there is nothing to worry about. Troops are out on the streets in force from here to the capital, and if necessary, the UN has promised to employ extra reinforcements to ensure there are no serious security issues.”

One of Natalie’s other guests stepped forward. “But do you actually think that the UN’s extra security is going to make a difference in the end for the people of this country?”

Patrick’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Miss…”

“Gabby Mackenzie. I’m a journalist from the States in town for a couple days.”

Natalie turned to Gabby, who’d contacted her recently for help in finding a translator and lodging while in the country. From what Natalie had since learned about her, the up-and-coming journalist wasn’t likely to be afraid of taking on a tough interview, the wilds of Africa, or Patrick, for that matter.

“What exactly are you implying?” Patrick asked.

Gabby kept her gaze even. “I’ve spent the past three weeks talking to dozens of investors and government officials from Lusaka to Dar es Salaam to Bogama, and while there are some who, I admit, want to help the people working for them, others are obviously exploiting their workers and pocketing the profits. So my question is how will having a new president, or even another term with the current president in this country, change things for the thousands of people being exploited?”

Stephen dropped his fork onto his plate. “I believe our current president has promised to continue to fight against foreign and local investors involved in the exploitation of workers.”

“I’ve heard the promises.” Gabby obviously wasn’t done making her point. “But the workers are the ones who pay the price—sometimes
with their lives—while foreign investors pay paltry wages and pocket the huge profits.”

“I’m assuming you have a solution to this problem?” Patrick asked.

Gabby set her empty plate on the edge of the table as if ready to take on the challenge. “For starters, business and foreign investors have to be held accountable, instead of allowing their workers to perform under such despicable conditions. Nor should governments accept every offer promising schools and roads when in exchange they are stripped of their natural resources—”

Shaking her head, Gabby took a step back and caught Natalie’s gaze. “I’m sorry. Tonight’s supposed to be a celebration, not a time for me to stand on my soapbox.”

Natalie couldn’t help but be impressed with the woman’s passion. “I don’t think anyone here is beneath a good debate. Isn’t that right, Patrick?”

“Well said, but for now…” Patrick held up his Coke for a toast. “To Stephen and the Republic of Dhambizao. May both have many fruitful years of productivity—and peace—ahead of them.”

“I hope you’re right.” Stephen held up his drink, smiled, and took a sip.

While the group dispersed to help themselves to more food, Natalie poured more peanuts into the glass bowl.

Gabby helped herself to a small handful. “I appreciate your inviting me here tonight. I’ve never been able to turn down a good homemade meal or a political debate.”

“Then you’re at the right place.” Natalie chuckled. “At least for the political debate part.”

Gabby laughed. “I don’t see anyone complaining about your food.”

“Just know you’re welcome anytime you’re back in the country. Are you still leaving in the morning?”

“I’ve got an early flight to the capital in the morning and one more meeting before I fly back to DC.”

“I am intrigued by the premise of your article.” Natalie pressed
her lips together, wondering how much—if any—of Joseph’s situation she should bring up. As a journalist, Gabby would want solid proof. Something Natalie didn’t have. “I’ve seen how the workers are treated in several of the outlaying mines, but what if…what if there was more involved than simply low wages and dangerous working conditions?”

Gabby cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard of the Ghost Soldiers?”

“What exactly are Ghost Sol—”

“So I see you’re not the only one asking questions about the Ghost Soldiers, Natalie.”

Natalie spun on her heel to face Patrick. “Gabby and I were discussing the article she’s writing.”

Patrick swirled the ice in his glass and shot her a smug grin. “Perhaps you should join the ranks as a reporter.”

Natalie frowned at the sarcastic suggestion. “I’m quite happy to leave journalism to the experts like Gabby.”

“Sound advice, don’t you think, Miss Mackenzie?” He turned back to Natalie. “Of course, I would have thought a potential hepatitis epidemic would have you too busy to worry over unverified rumors of Ghost Soldiers.”

“So what do you think about these rumors, Patrick?” Natalie ignored the man’s hard stare, wondering what Rachel saw in him.

“I’ve been investigating them.”

“Really?” That would explain his interest in her demographic reports and the questions they raised. “And what have you discovered?”

“That the villagers are ‘disappearing’ because they are nomadic. You can’t expect accurate counts when over ten percent of the population lives deep in the mountain jungles and has little contact with the outside world. I say the Ghost Soldiers are nothing more than rumors spread by the opposition to discredit the president.”

“Do you have proof they don’t exist?” Gabby asked.

“Of course I do.”

No doubt laced with lies and exaggerated facts.

Someone buzzed at the front gate. Natalie glanced at the door and made a mental note to finish the conversation at a later date. “If you’ll both excuse me.”

She set her uneaten food down on the edge of the kitchen counter and took the chance to slip away from both the conversation and her tumultuous thoughts. Hurrying down the front steps, she tried to shake off her simmering anger. She’d come here to help an impoverished people, and the fact that most of the government leaders were more interested in lining their own pockets than confronting real concerns like people’s lives made her furious.

She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and looked up at the night sky. Stars hovered above her—thousands more, it seemed, than the view she’d had from her apartment balcony back home in Portland.

The heavens declare the glory of God
,
and the skies proclaim His handiwork.

Breathing in the sweet scent of jasmine that crept along the outside wall, she willed her nerves to settle down. Sometimes the natural beauty of this place was the only proof she could see that God even existed here.

Chad stood at the gate.

“Hi.” She shot him a broad smile as she unlocked the gate. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad you invited me.”

Natalie felt a blush creep across her cheeks. He’d changed from his scrubs to blue jeans and a khaki T-shirt and looked relaxed. His hair was curly like she remembered from high school, cut short in the back and left a little longer on top. The time that had passed since she’d last seen him in the States had given him a mature confidence, along with a few gray hairs.

He might not agree with her stance to do whatever she could to help Joseph, but as she left the clinic she’d decided to invite him anyway on the premise he might enjoy a home-cooked meal and meeting
a few people. Truth was after eighteen months of living in Dhambizao, there was always a certain wave of security that encircled her when meeting another American. Which was the same reason she’d invited Gabby.

He stepped inside the compound, and she shut the gate behind him. “Sorry I’m late. I was tied up at the hospital longer than I expected.”

“No problem. Hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Good. I’ve got hot curry and rice, fresh fruit, and chocolate cake.”

Chad patted his stomach. “Then I’d say you’re the answer to my prayers.”

An hour and a half later, Natalie opened the gate to let out the last of the guests. Except for Chad. He stood behind her, the porch light illuminating his boyish grin, and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I’m not exactly in a big hurry to get home to my empty room. Need some help cleaning up?”

“Are you volunteering to do my dishes or trying to talk me out of getting involved with Joseph?”

He shot her a sheepish look and followed her back into the house. “Maybe a little of both.”

“At least you’re honest. Which is more than I can say for some people around here.” She grabbed a pile of plastic cups and headed for the kitchen, thankful that the slight awkwardness between them at the clinic had vanished.

“From what I could tell, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.”

“As long as Stephen had a good birthday, then I’m happy. He can be cranky at times, but overall he’s a good guy.” Natalie rummaged through the cupboard for some pain medicine to take the edge off the headache that had been brewing behind her temples since her conversation with Patrick. “And I always enjoy catching up with friends.”

Chad started scraping dishes into the trash. “I haven’t had a
chance to ask you what you’re doing here. You had an interesting assortment of guests. The former head of security to the president, a government nonprofit liaison, an American journalist, and a nurse, for starters.”

She swallowed the pills with the last of the punch. “You learned all that in the space of an hour and a half?”

“People intrigue me.”

Natalie smiled. She liked a man who wasn’t all about himself. “I’m working to prevent the spread of communicable diseases. Stephen—the nonprofit liaison who works alongside the minister of health—is my boss, in a roundabout way. Technically I work for an organization out of the States, but I’m pretty much at the disposal of what they want done here in the field.”

“Disease control. That’s pretty important work.” Chad turned on the tap and started rinsing the dishes while she worked to clear the leftover food from the adjoining room. “Is that how you met Joseph?”

“Yes.” She covered the leftover cake and set it in her small fridge. “One of the main methods of disease control, as I’m sure you know, is vaccinations and education. During school holidays he worked a number of times as my translator in some of the more remote villages.”

Chad stopped to look at her. “How is he?”

“Asleep in the back room.”

“That would be the medicine I gave him. I thought it might help to calm him down.”

Twenty minutes later, Natalie glanced around the living room and kitchen and smiled. “Well, that was painless. And quick. I appreciate your help.”

Chad hung up the wet dish towel he’d been using. “I suppose I should head home now.”

Natalie didn’t stop to think about what she wanted to say. Chad might not agree with her involvement, but if she was going to help
Joseph, she needed advice from someone she could trust. “You know I’m not going to just forget about what happened out in the village.”

He shot her a half smile. “I suppose you don’t come across as someone who’d simply walk away, but that doesn’t change how I feel. Working in health care in a third-world country has its own risks, but getting tangled up in the corruption that could be underlying a government is an entirely different story.”

She shook her head. “So I do nothing? Just allow Joseph’s family to rot away in some godforsaken mine?”

“You make it tough to ignore.”

“Good. I’ve got a comfy wooden swing in the backyard that the previous renters left. It’s perfect for brainstorming, if you’re not in a hurry to leave.”

Chad shoved his hands into his back pockets. “I think I’d like that.”