The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,61
think of. Back when he was employed at the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, DARPA decided to cross-train some of their engineers in covert operations at the CIA’s Camp Peary. He’d met Rubin Haywood, a case agent, when they were partnered up for close combat weapons training. Though Sam tried not to take advantage of their resulting friendship, there were times—like now—that he had no choice. “I need to call Rube.”
“Already did. Waiting on his return call,” Selma said.
“Thanks. We may need his help before this is over.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from anyone,” she said as Sam’s phone started ringing.
“See who it is,” he told Lazlo, too intent on driving to answer.
Lazlo picked it up from the console, checking the number. “It’s Pete.” He held the phone toward Sam, saying, “Go ahead. Mr. Fargo’s here.”
Pete’s voice came out in a rush, saying, “They have Remi and some of the girls.”
“I know,” Sam said. “For ransom. The kidnappers called from Amal’s phone.”
“I’m so sorry. We didn’t see them coming until too late. Remi went back for the girls who didn’t make it into the tunnel.”
“Who, besides Remi?” Sam asked.
“Tambara, Maryam, Zara, Jol, and Amal. Everyone else made it. No cell reception or we would’ve called sooner.”
“Six?” Sam confirmed.
“Wait. Seven missing. Nasha. She wasn’t in the tunnel with us.”
“You’re sure she’s not somewhere on the grounds? What about the shed? She called me from Remi’s phone. I think it died on her—”
“No,” Pete said. “I haven’t seen her. If she was here, she’d find me, I’m sure.”
Sam, checking the clock on the dash, hoped she was hiding somewhere safe. “We’re almost two hours away. About how long ago did the kidnappers leave?”
“Less than fifteen minutes ago. Our supply truck’s gone, so I’m guessing they took that to move the hostages. I doubt they’ve made it down the hill yet. What do you want me to do until you get here?”
“Keep everyone in the tunnel. We’ll reevaluate once I get there.”
“Will do. Yaro and I are going to hole up on the roof to watch in case they come back.”
“Pete . . .”
“Yes, Mr. Fargo?”
“Be careful.”
“I will be.”
The phone beeped as the call ended. Sam glanced at the other phone that Lazlo held. “You catch all that, Selma?”
“I did.”
“Good. When Rube gets back to you, have him call me on Lazlo’s phone. I want mine open in case Remi or the kidnappers call.”
A little over an hour later, Sam reached the edge of Okoro’s farm, seeing lights in the distance. He let his foot off the gas, trying to get a better look.
“Something wrong?” Lazlo asked, following the direction of his gaze.
“I’m not sure. That farm belongs to the man Selma’s been trying to reach. So why isn’t he answering his phone?”
“Maybe it died.”
“He’s got power. He’d certainly be able to charge it.”
Sam slowed as they passed the long drive. Instead of heading left up toward the school, he continued on the main road until he passed the stand of eucalyptus trees, then parked out of sight. He grabbed his gear bag from the back.
Lazlo strapped on a holster. “You’re sure this is a good use of our time? The school—”
“Pete and Yaro are there. They’ll call. But something’s wrong.” He lifted the night vision binoculars, saw several figures moving around the grounds. “Not a good sign,” he said, handing the glasses to Lazlo.
The professor focused them. “Exactly what am I looking at?”
“Men. Who don’t belong there.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m fairly certain Okoro’s farmhands aren’t in the habit of carrying rifles to guard his tea crop.” Sam suspected they were using the farm as an outpost to watch traffic in and out of the school. What he didn’t see was the supply truck, which he assumed the kidnappers had taken to hide their hostages in as they fled.
Lazlo lowered the glasses. “By my estimation, the kidnappers left the school well over an hour ago. If these men are working with them, shouldn’t they be long gone by now?”
“That, Lazlo, is a very good question. Let’s go find out why.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Restless feet may walk into a snake pit.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Sam and Lazlo moved in on foot through the thick eucalyptus grove that grew up alongside the farm. Thankfully, the dagger-shaped leaves that had fallen from the trees and left to rot on the ground acted like a sound-dampening barrier. When they neared the edge of the grove, Sam held up his hand, motioning for Lazlo to stop.