The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,58

ran into the yard. “Pili,” he called to the closest. “Climb in the back.”

Pili ran toward the truck and vaulted onto the back bumper. The canvas whipped open. Amal, her hands no longer tied, kicked out as Pili reached for her. He missed, tried again, but she kicked him in the chest and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Jimi raised his gun, ready to shoot. “No,” Makao called out. “No guns.”

“They’re getting away.”

“After them,” Makao shouted as he ran to his pickup.

He shoved his key into the ignition, starting it, waiting for his men to jump in the back, while Pili and his group got into the SUV. They sped out the gate, but Makao had to lean to his left in order to see around the egg dripping down his windshield. He accelerated, gaining on the truck, swearing at the dust kicking up, all of it sticking to the egg. When he turned on the wipers, the blades smeared the sticky substance across the glass, turning it into mud. Just able to see through a small patch on the left of the windshield, he stabbed at the gas, glad the truck was four-wheel drive. When he approached the first hairpin turn, the back end started swaying, then fishtailed as he hit the brakes.

Figuring it was the rough road, he attempted to steer into it—until he heard the steady thump-thump of the rim and rubber hitting as they rolled down the hill.

“What’s wrong?” Jimi asked.

“Flat.” He slowed to a stop, got out, and saw both rear tires almost peeled back from the rims. He waited for Pili to catch up, watching the headlights bouncing wildly as it came to a stop behind his. He ran up the hill, saw the mess of egg and dirt smeared across the windshield, and knew without a doubt the rear tires would also be flat.

Pili got out, swearing.

Makao looked over the damage, realized they’d have to cannibalize the wheels from Pili’s SUV to get his truck working. He ordered his men to change the tires.

“We’re going after them?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” He walked to the side of the road, looking down the steep slope, catching a glimpse of the headlights through the trees before they disappeared farther down the hill. The sight angered him.

They’d been set up.

“You two, go back,” he said. “Burn the school down.”

The two men grabbed the gas cans from the back of his truck and trudged up the hill toward the open gate, while the others got to work changing the tires.

He took out his phone, calling Dayo down at the farm. “The hostages got away. Don’t let them get past you.”

“We won’t.”

He disconnected, then watched his men pull the front wheel from Pili’s SUV to put onto his truck, wondering how it was that so small a girl had done this on her own.

Impossible. No doubt the Fargo woman had directed her every move.

Didn’t matter. He was through working with Tarek. Once he got his money, he was going to kill them both.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

A leader who does not take advice is not a leader.

– KENYAN PROVERB –

Remi gripped the steering wheel, driving as fast as she dared around the sharp hairpin turn. She checked the side mirrors, grateful that they were no longer being followed.

“I could’ve driven,” Nasha said. “We’d have gotten away quicker.”

“I know,” Remi said, looking over at her. Had it been the Land Rover, there was no doubt. The cab of this much larger truck was an entirely different matter altogether. Remi doubted the child could even reach the gas pedal. Still, the fact she’d single-handedly set up the spikes in front of the kidnappers’ cars and stolen the keys amazed Remi. Thanks to Nasha, Remi figured they had at least a ten-minute head start. The kid was barely tall enough to see over the dash—and was, at the moment, trying not to be strangled by the shoulder strap of the seat belt. “But these roads aren’t smooth like ones in Jalingo. And driving a Land Rover is a lot easier than this big truck.”

“Maybe.”

The vehicle hit a pothole, the bump jarring her insides, rattling her teeth. “See?” Remi said.

“I would have missed that.”

Smiling, Remi checked her mirrors again. Still clear. After another ten minutes, she pulled over.

“Why are we stopping?”

“We need to come up with a plan.”

“We can’t go to the farm, can we?”

Remi looked at her. Nasha had already experienced her share of separation and death and that made her far more astute