The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,88
the shade watched them with wary interest. The dog wasn’t the only one watching. Even if Pete had not rolled in behind them with the supply truck, they might as well have installed a neon sign on the top of their vehicle announcing Virtual Strangers. The rented Land Rover was decades newer than any of the vehicles owned or driven by the local residents. The same held true for Makao’s white Toyota pickup, which Sam had noticed the second he’d driven onto the lone, dusty road.
Remi fished the binoculars from Sam’s pack, peering through them. “Makao, Kambili, and—”
“Chuk,” Nasha said from the back, leaning forward. “You were right, Mr. Fargo. Kambili brought him home.”
Not quite how Sam would’ve phrased it, but he wasn’t about to mention that to Nasha, who had yet to realize the significance of Kambili’s and Makao’s presence in her uncle’s village.
No doubt in Sam’s and Remi’s minds, though. Those men were after her uncle to get to the Fargos.
Remi passed the binoculars to Sam.
He focused on the two men who were standing in front of the Toyota. The boy, Chuk, started backing away. Kambili grabbed him by the shoulder, then dragged the kid to the truck, opened the back door and shoved him in.
“Lazlo,” he said, keeping his focus on Kambili and Makao. “Do you remember that story I told you about the time Remi and I were in Juárez with a couple of our friends?”
“Yes . . . Wait. Surely you don’t mean . . . ?”
Remi, her Sig Sauer already drawn, looked back at him. “You’re welcome to take my spot?”
“Dear heavens, no.” Lazlo gave a tepid smile and opened the Rover’s door. “Come along,” he said to Amal and Nasha. “I have yet to see a Fargo car make it through unscathed.”
“What’re you talking about?” Sam slapped the dash. “Not a mark on this thing.”
Lazlo turned a dubious expression Sam’s way as he held the door for Nasha and Amal. “I’ll call Mrs. Fargo’s phone when I’m there.”
As the professor hurried the two away, Nasha asked him, “What does unscathed mean?”
“It means you don’t want to be anywhere near their car when the fighting starts.”
Sam kept his attention on Makao as he and Kambili stood in front of their truck. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Remi said.
He called Pete, giving him a quick rundown, then let the car idle forward until they were about fifty yards away from Makao’s pickup. Not unexpectedly, Sam’s phone rang. He answered. “Can’t say I was expecting to hear from you again, Makao.”
“You have something I want. Money. I have something you want.”
“Which would be . . . ?” Sam asked.
“We were hoping for the girl’s uncle but feel certain you’ll settle for the boy.”
“What makes you think we want him?”
“You came this far, didn’t you?”
Sam sensed Remi bristling. He checked her phone, sitting in the cupholder, waiting for Lazlo’s call. “How much?” he asked Makao.
“The same as before. One hundred thousand dollars. When you wire it to my account, I’ll give you the boy.”
Finally, Remi’s phone lit up. Lazlo was in place. “No need,” Sam said. “I’ve got the money here.”
“You expect me to believe you have that much cash with you?”
“I had it delivered by special courier when I thought you had my wife.” Sam didn’t give him time to think. “Keep the boy in the open where I can see him. Meet me halfway. I’ll bring the money to you. If you’re satisfied it’s all there, you send the boy to me.”
A stretch of silence followed, then Makao said, “Agreed. But keep your hands where I can see them or you won’t make it back to your car.”
The phone beeped as Makao disconnected. Sam saw him talking to Kambili, who nodded in response to whatever he was saying.
“Let’s hope this works,” Sam said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Love never gets lost; it’s only kept.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Remi handed Sam a Bluetooth earpiece. He placed it in his ear and tucked his Smith & Wesson into the back of his waistband.
Remi called his phone, telling him, “Be careful. I’m calling Lazlo now.”
He nodded when her voice sounded in his earpiece, then opened his door, holding up his empty left hand. Remi handed him his backpack. He lifted it by its strap with his other hand, making sure Makao knew he wasn’t holding a gun.
“I’m almost there,” Lazlo said.
Remi opened her door a few inches, bracing one foot on the frame, aiming her Sig in the direction of Makao’s truck. “Sam, stay to the left.”