The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,56
clasped her hands together. “To stay in the shed, that he was coming.” When she looked up at Remi, it was as though she was hoping for forgiveness. “But the screen turned black before I could tell him about the farm and I couldn’t hear him anymore.”
Zara leaned forward, her expression imploring. “How will Mr. Fargo know to warn my father?”
“He’ll know,” Remi said. She didn’t have the heart to tell Zara that the warning was for Sam. If Makao’s men were holed up down there, chances were good that Zara’s father was already a prisoner—assuming they hadn’t killed him first. “Sam’s very resourceful.” She indicated the hook. “Nasha, the keys to the truck.”
Nasha glanced up at them, then back, clearly troubled. “Do you think Mr. Fargo will be very mad that I didn’t tell him?”
“No. Of course not.” Hoping to get Nasha back on task, Remi was about to remind her of their mission. But when she looked outside, she saw Makao bearing down on them fast. “You need to hide.”
“But the keys.”
“Now,” she whispered and hurried back to the corner, sliding against the wall and to the floor. Remi slid the scissors toward Amal and looked over at the girls, their eyes wide as they watched Nasha scurrying beneath the desk.
“Look away, girls,” Remi whispered.
None too soon. Makao stormed in, pulling Remi to her feet. “Where is she?”
“Where’s who?”
“The girl. The little one.”
“There’s just us. Everyone else is gone.”
His eyes bored into hers. “What were you doing by the desk?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I heard the goats and wondered what was going on. That’s it. I was worried they were getting loose.”
“I don’t believe you. There were five girls outside. One was sitting between you and her,” he said, nodding toward Amal. “Where’d she go?”
“Makao.”
He turned to see one of the men walking in, carrying a cardboard box. “Look what I found sitting by the round building.”
Makao shoved Remi against the wall, grabbed the box, then tossed it onto the desk with such force it tipped over, scattering road spikes across the floor. “Why would I care about that?”
“I don’t think it was there earlier. I saw something moving by the cars.”
“Something moving?” He pointed out the door. “There’s a lot moving out there. Goats. Everywhere.”
The man looked, nodding. “But—”
“But what?”
“I saw a bunch of buckets there, too. They weren’t there before. And someone was throwing eggs at our cars.”
Eggs? Definitely not part of Remi’s plan. Apparently, Nasha had been busy, using the distraction with the goats to move around the compound without being seen.
Makao strode toward the door, looking out, glaring at Remi as he pulled her along with him. “Where . . . is . . . the . . . girl . . . ?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He pointed out the door. “Then who did that?”
“Did what?” She stepped forward, drawing the attention toward her instead of the desk where Nasha hid. “You realize we have a lot of chickens? They lay eggs all over the place.”
“On our windshields?”
Remi looked at the truck keys just inches from her face, then slid her gaze past them out the door.
Right now, her priority was to keep Nasha from being discovered since she was the only one who had a chance of getting the keys without being seen. “Chickens . . . Pesky little things.”
Makao ignored her, his attention on the man who found the box. “See if there’s anyone else out there.” After he left, Makao returned his attention to Remi. “Where are the keys to that truck?”
“Our truck?”
He took a step forward, putting his hand on the butt of his holstered gun. “Play dumb and see what happens.”
“Hanging on the wall by the door,” she said.
He plucked the keys from the hook. “Jimi.”
The guard at the door stepped inside.
“Load them in the back,” Makao said, tossing him the keys. “We’re getting ready to move out.”
The man tucked the keys into his pocket and took Remi by the arm. “Let’s go.”
He shoved Remi toward the door, then ordered Amal to her feet. “Get up,” he demanded again when she failed to move.
Remi looked back, saw Amal’s vacant stare, worried, not only about her but the scissors. “She can’t hear you.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“It’s like a seizure,” Remi said. “You need to give her a few moments.” When the other four girls glanced toward Nasha’s hiding place, Remi cocked her head toward the door. “Everyone up,” she said. “Amal will be fine.”