The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,22

the emergency brake, before meeting Sam alongside the truck. She pointed to the canvas covering near the tailgate. When he started to reach for his gun, she waved him off. “I think it’s our pickpocket.”

Sam lifted the corner of the canvas.

Nasha stared out at them, her eyes going wide, her expression one of panic. “You can’t stop,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“What’re we doing?” Sam glanced at Remi, then back at the girl. “I’m asking you the same.”

Hank jumped out of the cab, walking back toward them. “What the . . . ?”

Sam waved for him to be quiet and turned his attention to Nasha. “Why are you hiding in the back of our truck?”

“I want to go with you. Please . . .”

“You can’t,” Sam said. “You need to be at home, with your parents. Where are they?”

“Gone. Everyone. My uncle was supposed to come back for me.” She turned toward Remi, her hands clasped together. “I know I’m only a girl. But I want to go to school.”

Her simple statement caught Remi by surprise. “Sam . . . ?”

He eyed the girl, then Remi. “How about we work on getting this load secured first?”

The load was secure, but she nodded, saying, “Good idea.” Smiling at the child, she pointed toward the one spot of shade near the front of the truck. “Why don’t you wait there, where it’s cooler, while I help my husband.”

Nasha nodded, did as she was told.

“Well?” Remi said as Sam pulled the canvas back in place.

Hank looked at the two of them, his expression incredulous. “How do you know this isn’t another scam? So you don’t turn her over to the police?”

“We don’t know,” Sam said as Amal got out and joined them.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“You can’t be seriously thinking of taking her?” Hank said. “There’s got to be laws against that sort of thing.”

“Sam . . .” Remi leaned over, speaking softly. “She’s just a girl.”

All four glanced toward the front of the truck, where the child paced nervously, her attention on the road behind them. Remi looked that direction, wondering what she was looking at. The flat road stretched for mile upon mile through the flat grassland. If there was anything out there, Remi couldn’t see.

“Hank’s right,” Sam said. “We can’t just start yanking stray kids off the street without permission from parents or guardians or authorities. They’ll shut down our school in a heartbeat if that gets out. We’ve got to take her back. Now.”

“To where?” Remi said. “You heard her. She has no family.”

“The police. You know we have no choice.”

Amal gripped Remi’s hand. “I want to go back, too. I have a bad feeling about this.”

The last thing Remi expected was for Hank to champion her cause. “Mrs. Fargo is right. If we drive back now,” he said, “that creates another delay delivering the supplies.”

“It can’t be helped,” Sam said. “We’re going back.”

“Thank goodness,” Amal said, looking infinitely relieved.

Sam pulled the knot on the canvas cover tight, then glanced at Remi, clearly unable to resist her look of pleading. “We’ll track down her next of—”

“Hurry!” Nasha raced toward them, pointing. “You need to leave!”

Remi shaded her eyes, seeing the glint of sun reflecting off the windshield of a vehicle in the distance.

“Now!” Nasha screamed. “Before it’s too late. They’re coming.”

“Who?” Hank asked, looking startled.

“The Kalu brothers,” she said. “We have to go. Please.”

“Remi,” Sam said.

“Already on it,” she replied, opening the tailgate of the Land Rover and digging out a pair of binoculars from one of the packs. She tossed them to Sam.

“A yellow car?” Nasha said.

Sam lifted the binoculars, watching until the vehicle neared enough to see the color. “Definitely yellow. Are you a part of this? Supposed to distract us?”

She shook her head, her eyes pleading. “They have guns. They’re going to rob you. I . . . I thought you might get to the school before they found you.”

Sam glanced at Remi. “Going back’s out of the question. For now.”

“What about the truck?” Remi said. “As heavy as it’s loaded, we’re not going to outrun them.”

“No. But maybe we can find a better place to make a stand.”

“A stand?” Hank said. “You can’t be serious.”

Sam ignored him, looking through the binoculars in the opposite direction. “What the . . .”

“Sam?”

He handed Remi the binoculars, then pointed farther up, near the bend in the road. “About halfway between here and the trees.”

Remi swept her gaze across the stretch of rutted dirt, at first seeing nothing

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