The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,41
Even so, Remi was torn about whether she should follow Nasha, especially when Maryam gave a dramatic sigh, saying, “She’s so immature.”
“She’s eleven,” Remi pointed out. “Maybe we could be a tiny bit nicer?”
Maryam nodded, her gaze moving to the floor. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Jol, not to be dissuaded from their earlier conversation, looked eagerly at Remi. “We want to know how you can do all those things when you’re just a girl.”
“Just a girl?” Remi said. “What makes you think girls can’t do that sort of stuff?”
The three young ladies shrugged their shoulders. Tambara elbowed Jol again. “Ask her,” she whispered.
“Ask me what?” Remi said.
“About that time you and Mr. Fargo were trapped in a shipping container in France.”
They had to have been talking about her and Sam’s search for the stolen prototype of the first-ever Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow. “How’d you hear about that?”
“Miss Wendy told us,” she said. “Weren’t you scared?”
Nasha suddenly raced back into the cafeteria, pointing out the door. “Mr. Fargo is back.”
Remi smiled at the girls. “Tell you what. I’ll share a fun story of one of our adventures after lunch.”
“Promise?” Maryam said.
“Promise.”
Remi followed Nasha out into the courtyard to the front of the compound, curious. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Nasha led her across the drive to the locked gate.
Something must have happened, because Sam wasn’t due to return until the following night. Remi peered between the two posts of the fence, seeing what looked like a mini dust storm in the distance. A gust of wind blew from the south, clearing the cloud enough for her to see the white truck and an SUV behind it. A chill swept through her. “That’s not Sam,” she said.
Nasha’s breath caught. “Scarface . . .”
“Go tell Wendy to ring the bell. If you see anyone, tell them to meet at the shed. Hurry.”
Nasha raced across the graveled drive, clucking chickens scattering in every direction.
Remi pulled on the chain at the gate, making sure it was secure, as the bell started clanging from the office.
Within seconds, girls flew out the doors into the courtyard, lining up as they’d been taught. Pete stood at the forefront, his tanned face etched with concern, as Remi ran in. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Get the girls in the tunnel. The man in the white truck. With reinforcements.”
Pete ran to the shed, opening the door wide as the girls gathered outside it, frantic, unsure about this sudden drill, undoubtedly picking up on the quiet urgency of the adults. The bell rang several more times, then Wendy rushed into the courtyard carrying three packs—hers, Remi’s, and Pete’s. Monifa and Yaro ran out of the mess hall, taking a position behind the girls, as Pete stepped out of the shed, holding two fingers high. The girls stopped talking, their eyes on him.
“Listen up,” Pete said. He pointed toward the shed. “I want you all to follow Miss Wendy down the ladder as quickly and as quietly as you can.”
“A ladder?” someone asked. “For what?”
“Is this a drill?” one of the girls asked.
“No. It’s not.”
Panic filled their faces as they looked around, trying to find the threat.
Wendy handed Remi her pack, then took the hand of the first girl, leading her to the tunnel. “Quickly,” she said, her voice and demeanor the epitome of calm. “And no talking.” Remi pulled the Velcro from the hidden slot in her pack, wrapping her fingers around the butt of her Sig Sauer but not drawing it. After seeing the fright on the girls’ faces, she knew the sight of a gun might send them over the edge. Not surprisingly, their attention wasn’t on her and instead was on Pete, who hurried them into the shed. Nasha brought up the rear, looking back toward Remi as Pete led her in. “Down you go,” he said.
“I don’t want to go,” Nasha said.
“It’s safer.”
“But I know where—”
Remi, hearing the vehicles outside the gate, realized they had seconds. “They’re here.” Apparently, that was enough to send Nasha scurrying to the ladder. Remi looked at Pete. “You first.”
“Sam will kill me if anything happens to you.”
“Nice try. I’ll be right behind you,” she said, suddenly realizing Amal wasn’t there. Drawing her gun, she moved to the shed door, opening it just enough to look out. The courtyard was empty and eerily quiet. So far, though, whoever had arrived hadn’t yet breached the gates. She closed the door and moved to the tunnel, hearing Wendy’s soft voice, taking a head count of the students.