The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,93

known friends. I did get some good news, though. Yaro was telling Okoro about Nasha’s uncle. When Okoro heard how Boko Haram invaded the village and burned down his farm, he suggested leasing a part of his tea fields to him. That way, Nasha can still attend the school, and he’ll be a lot closer. He’s agreed to come look at Okoro’s land to discuss a possible lease, then take a tour of the school.”

Lazlo, seated on the couch behind Sam, absorbed in something on the screen of the computer tablet he was holding, looked up at the news. “Good show,” he called out.

“Remi will be glad to hear that,” Sam said, glancing out the fourth-floor window. The hotel room overlooked the pool where Remi and Renee had taken up residence beneath an umbrella under one of the tall palms. What he didn’t expect to see was two men standing over the women, one with a towel draped over his hand. Had the man been a waiter, Sam might not have been so concerned. But the hotel staff wore uniforms, and neither man looked as though he was dressed for lounging around the pool.

“Once things settle down,” Pete said, “Yaro and I plan to head out and—”

Sam drew his gun and rushed to the balcony.

“Mr. Fargo?” Pete called out. “What’s going on?”

“Remi’s in trouble. Lazlo, call the police.” Through the palm fronds, he saw both women rise from their chairs, the two men taking up a position on either side. He heard Lazlo on the phone, but he knew the police would never get there in time. Nor would he, for that matter.

Those men would have his wife and Renee out the gate to the parking lot before he ever made it downstairs.

He aimed at the man closest to Remi, the one holding the towel, but the breeze gusted. The row of palm trees swayed, obscuring his vision. If he waited until they cleared the trees, his trusty .38 wasn’t going to cut it. There were too many guests scattered about on lounge chairs. And he didn’t dare leave the balcony to retrieve his wife’s Sig.

“Remi,” he shouted.

The man next to Remi looked up. She rammed her elbow into his side and swept upward, knocking his gun from his hand. He pushed Remi and dove for the weapon. Sam fired at the ground.

The gunman jerked to a stop. A few guests looked around, unsure what the sharp noise was. Sam fired about a foot behind the second kidnapper. The shot ricocheted, hitting the planter behind him. Guests screamed. Remi pivoted, grabbing one of Renee’s crutches, swinging it against the other man’s knees. As he stumbled forward, the first gunman lunged at the two women. Remi swung the crutch again, knocking him into the stone planter. He scrambled to his feet and dashed after his partner.

Several hotel employees ran out, surrounding the women, helping Renee to a chair. Lazlo was still on the phone as Sam raced to the stairs, taking them down two at a time. He burst through the door to the pool. “Remi.”

“I’m fine,” she said, looking at him. “We’re both fine.”

She looked at Renee, then walked over to Sam, speaking quietly. “Just a run-of-the-mill kidnapping attempt.”

“That part seemed obvious. I’m just trying to figure out—” He stopped when one of the hotel managers came running toward them.

The man looked as though he might faint. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No,” Remi said.

“They came in asking if there was a Western woman at the hotel pool. They said they’d hit her car and wanted to talk to her.”

Sam exchanged a look with Remi, before asking, “At the pool?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Their exact words?” Sam asked. “It’s important.”

He indicated the gate where the conversation had taken place. “They said they’d hit a car parked out front and asked if the two women at the poolside belonged to it. I told them I couldn’t give out that information. I assure you, had I suspected anything was amiss, I would never have returned inside.” He looked at Remi and her friend. “I am very, very sorry.”

Remi smiled at the man. “We’re both fine, I promise. Perhaps, though, you could call the police?”

“Of course.” He bowed several times, backing away, and stopped in surprise at the sight of the police walking through the gate.

“Lazlo,” Sam explained.

“A shame they didn’t get here about two minutes sooner. The kidnappers might’ve run right into them.”

After the report was taken, with assurances from both the police and the hotel staff that