The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,89

walked slowly toward the two men, glad to see the few wary pedestrians quickly running from the street out of sight. And no wonder. As many burned-out shells of houses Sam had seen on his way in, he knew the people here were no strangers to violence.

Makao and Kambili waited at the front of their truck, Chuk just behind them. When Sam reached the halfway mark, he tossed the backpack on the ground and held up both of his hands. “It’s yours.” Sam backed away to the left, making sure Remi had a line of sight.

Makao pushed Kambili. “Go get it.”

Kambili reluctantly moved forward.

C’mon, Lazlo . . .

“Here,” Lazlo said.

Sam saw him standing just behind the mud-sided building, waving at Chuk. The boy looked over at the professor, but then, surprising Sam, moved closer to Makao.

Sam heard Remi sigh. “I don’t think Chuk realizes that we’re trying to save him. Lazlo, you’re going to have to grab him.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Lazlo said, ducking back behind the building. “Buy me a few more seconds.”

That’s all they had left. Once Kambili reached the backpack, and realized the only cash it contained was probably a bit of change in the front zippered pocket, they were done for.

“Think of something, Fargo,” Remi said.

Sam held up both hands. “You sure you trust him?” he called out.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Makao said.

“Wasn’t asking you,” Sam replied. “I was asking Kambili.”

Kambili stopped, looking back at Makao. “What’s he talking about?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Makao said. “He’s doing this on purpose.”

Lazlo was back, this time with Nasha. Unfortunately, when Chuk saw her, Makao unknowingly stepped between them. Sam kept his gaze on Kambili. “Makao killed your brothers. What makes you think he’s not going to kill you the moment you grab that backpack?”

“He’s lying,” Makao said.

“Am I?” Sam took a second step that direction, still holding his hands up.

Chuk backed up and darted toward Lazlo and Nasha.

Makao tried to grab the boy. “They tricked us,” he shouted, aiming at Remi.

Her shot was nearly simultaneous to his. Makao staggered back toward the truck.

Sam drew his Smith & Wesson as Kambili spun around, gun in hand.

Sam fired.

Kambili dropped to his knees. Red bloomed on his chest as he fell facedown on the ground, still gripping his weapon. Sam kept his gun trained on the man, approached, kicked Kambili’s weapon away and leaned down, checking his pulse.

Dead.

“Fargo,” Remi shouted. “Makao’s getting away.”

Sam looked up in time to see the white truck backing up. He ran to the Land Rover to give chase, then stopped, seeing the odd tilt of the car as Lazlo, Nasha, Amal, and Chuk emerged from between the buildings. “Bad news,” Sam said, examining the damage.

“We could go after him,” Pete said, indicating the supply truck.

Sam spied the dust cloud in the distance. Had it been a smaller truck maybe? “You’d never catch him.”

Nasha crouched beside Sam and looked up at Lazlo, asking, “Is a flat tire unscathed?”

“When it comes to the Fargos? Quite.”

Eventually, the villagers started wandering out, a crowd gathering around the group, while they waited for the police to arrive from Mubi.

“Nasha?” A man pushed through the crowd, stopped, and stared in disbelief. “Nasha . . . Is that really you?”

Myriad emotions swept across her small face, but she didn’t move. “You . . . You said you were coming back for us . . .”

“I did. I looked for you. The man I paid to drive you, he told me . . . It doesn’t matter now. You’re here . . .” He held his hand out toward her, his smile broken. “Come. Give your old uncle a hug.”

Chuk nudged her forward.

That was all the encouragement she needed. The man scooped her up in his arms, hugging her tight. “My Nasha . . .”

Remi smiled at them. “All’s well.”

Sam, holding the tire iron, went back to removing the lug nuts when his cell alerted him to a text. He pulled it from his pocket, reading the message from Makao. I’m going to get her.

“Remi . . .” Sam handed her the phone.

She read the text, met his eyes, then looked at Nasha, saying, “I don’t know which her he’s talking about, but we’re not leaving ours behind, until he’s caught.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

A child who is carried on the back will not know how far the journey is.

– NIGERIAN PROVERB –

How to protect Nasha presented a problem. Although Pete had suggested she could return to the school with him, her uncle