Now the question was, where were they going, and where would the driver drop them?
11
Outside the city limits of Freetown, Sierra Leone
THE TREES WERE THICK. Branches scratched the side of the bus as they drove down a bumpy African road. As Niki bobbed in her seat, she turned to catch Lord’s eye. He smiled once they caught sight of each other.
Must be going the right way. Lord didn’t seem worried by their path. Maybe he knew about Payne and saw him at the airport too. Maybe Lord planned it this way all along, to take me to the middle of nowhere in a foreign country to have their way with me. I knew it, he did see me following him to the jeweler.
Sweat formed and oozed from Niki’s pores as paranoia set in.
The bus pushed through the thick foliage and stopped at a clearing. Niki peered through the windshield to see a multitude of children playing soccer in the distance. At the sight of the bus, they ceased their game, and all came running. From her seat, she stared at each of their smiling faces. Joy stuck like glue to their expressions as they rushed to meet the bus.
“This is our stop,” Lord said.
Niki jumped at his words, unaware he was standing in the aisle. “You scared me.” She felt her heart racing.
“Sorry.” He moved forward rolling his heavy bags behind him.
Niki moved in behind him and walked back to grab her lone bag, then followed him down the aisle. As Lord stepped off the bus, the mob of children surrounded him, each jumping up to wrap him in an embrace.
Before she walked down the two steps, she smiled with a tight mouth, entranced by their appreciation for him.
Once she exited the bus, Lord hobbled toward her, still encircled by the children.
“This is Niki,” Lord said. “She has come to see you too.”
She was met with a similar reception: hugs full of unconditional love and admiration.
At their touch, a perpetual smile formed on her face as laughter poured out. She couldn’t help it; she couldn’t control the emotion the children gave her. In that moment she felt nothing but acceptance. And who were they to accept her for who she was with no idea what she had done in her life, no idea the thoughts she struggled with, no idea she was a trained killer? But in that moment none of that mattered; in that moment she realized one thing: she loved Africa.
“Come on.” Lord grabbed her hand. “There is someone I want you to meet.” He pulled her along once the children finally let go.
Niki admired the countryside as she jogged alongside Lord. The sun was low in the sky, only peeking above the mountains in the background. Tall palms swayed in the wind, and she was reminded of home. The air was hot, not stifling, but thick with humidity.
“There he is.” Lord sounded elated. “Vali!” he shouted.
A man appeared at the opening of a tent; inside he was tending to someone who lay on a gurney.
A wide smile formed on his face. “Bala!” He opened his arms and awaited Lord’s squeeze. The two men wrapped each other tightly, both with wide smiles on their faces.
When Lord pushed out, he turned to Niki and said, “Vali, I want to introduce you to one of my students. This is Niki Finley.”
Vali picked up Niki’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.
Niki blushed for the first time in years; so far Africa was overcoming her with emotion.
“It’s lovely to meet you. Any friend of Bala is a friend of mine,” Vali said.
“Bala?” Niki said to Lord.
“It’s just a nickname.”
She wondered what it meant.
“Were you able to bring the supplies we needed?” Vali asked Lord.
“Sure did. They’re over there.” Lord pointed back toward the bus drop-off spot. He hadn’t lugged the heavy bags through the thick red clay. “Let me go get them.”
Niki waited near Vali, captivated by the sights around her. She hadn’t known what to expect before coming on this trip, but she never expected to be this overwhelmed, this taken with Africa.
“Would you like to see what we are doing here?” Vali asked.
Niki turned to face him. “Sure.” She followed him inside the tent.
Niki was shocked at the sight of multiple people laid up on hospital beds. It seemed there were many more hurt, injured, or sick than just the lone man on the gurney that she’d noticed from afar.
Her hand was over her mouth now. “What happened?”
Vali turned and smiled. “My dear, didn’t Bala tell you?”
“He told me nothing about this.” She looked around at each patient. Some lay asleep. Some were awake resting, and some looked as if they were on the brink of starvation or death.
“This is why he comes. To take care of us, to help us survive.”
The man’s a saint. The thought just creeped its way in.
When Vali moved to the bedside of one of his patients, Niki joined him.
“Here, put this on.” He handed her a face mask.
She fastened it over her mouth and nose, then asked, “What happened to him?”
“Malaria. Starvation. An overall lack of nutrition.”
“And the others?” Niki looked up and nodded toward the rest of the patients.
“Some of the same. Some HIV patients as well.”
“How awful,” Niki said.
But then Vali spun and squared her in the eye. “Don’t take pity on us. We don’t dwell on the misfortune, but rather we exist to do God’s will.”
Stunned, Niki didn’t speak. How could she? How could there be so much joy in the midst of such desolation?
Lord entered the tent, breaking up their conversation. “Here you go, Vali.” He lifted the heavy bag onto the empty table in the middle of the room. Vali pulled off his rubber gloves and moved toward the bag, and Niki came close as well.
“Ah, thank you, Bala.”
Lord reached around and unzipped the black suitcase. He lifted the flap and revealed the contents. Again, Niki was shocked. Inside was a plethora of medical supplies: bandages, vaccines, gauze, tape, splints, and alcohol.
Overcome with emotion, she stared at Vali, then Lord, and felt a tear well in her eye. She headed outside for fresh air; she couldn’t let her guard down, not there, not in front of Lord.
As she stared at the children at play, she thought, This. This is why he’s here. He is a godsend. These people. These amazing people have nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for, but yet they persist with such . . . such joy. Why?
Niki swallowed her emotion when she heard footsteps from behind.
“I told you, you were going to love it here.”
“I . . . I just didn’t think it would affect me like this.”
“I know what you mean. Trust me, I do.”
Niki turned to him and smiled. She knew this was an experience none of her fellow agents had ever shared in. Not Fox. Not Winter. Not the director or Collar. No one. No one could tell her the emotions she should be feeling upon experiencing this.
“Do you want me to show you to your quarters?” Lord said.
“What? We’re staying here?”
“Yeah, what did you expect, the Ritz?”
“Well, no, but I figured we’d stay at a hotel, something close to town.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
Did she have a choice? It would’ve been easier to stay in contact with the team that way, but she didn’t want to raise suspicion.
“No. This is perfect.”
“Good, then let me show you the way.” Lord led her away from the infirmary and toward the opposite end of the village.
Niki entered the tent Lord had led her to, and there were two cots pushed against the thick burlap. One on each side. Lord moved over and dropped his backpack on the one closest to the door.
“What’s this? I thought you said this was my tent.”
“It is. It’s mine as well.” He grinned.
“What type of girl do you think I am?”
&nb
sp; “What do you mean?”
“What did you think this was? Bring an impressionable young woman to Africa, show her around the camp, get her to lower her guard to see just how loved and popular you are here and what, now you expect us to sleep in the same tent, like I’m, what, some floozy?”
Lord held up his hands to deflect her defensive tone. “I’m sorry, Niki, I wasn’t trying to imply anything. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“What is it exactly?” She looked around, as if to remind him they were the only two there.
“Well, maybe, yeah, I guess it does look a bit precarious.”
“Ya think?”
“I assure you, there were no expectations, not on my part. This is just how they live here. Men and women have to share tents. There’s simply not enough space for everyone to have their own.”
“That’s all well and good, professor, but let me give it to you straight. There is no way in hell we’re sharing. You’re the savior of this place. I’m sure you can find another suitable tent to stay in.”
Niki wasn’t budging. If she was forced to stay in the village, he would be put out, not she.
Staring at Niki, he hesitated to see if she would change her mind.
“Fair enough. I will make other arrangements.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and walked toward the entry. He folded the flap of the doorway and stepped out, but then returned. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day. We’re taking a trip.”
“A trip? Where?”
“You’ll see, it’s a surprise, but I know you’re going to love it.”
12
Near Payne’s camp in West Africa
DARKNESS SET INTO THE night. It was inky black. The new moon allowed for ample undetectable movement for Fox and Winter as they crawled through the uneven terrain and stared through their thermal imaging scopes at an encampment a quarter mile from their current position. They hadn’t moved, not since arriving at four p.m.
Their mission was clear: gather intelligence about Payne’s movements. Chatter suggested he was out there, and a crystal clear picture taken by Fox with a telephoto lens confirmed their suspicion.
“This is ridiculous,” Fox said. “Why can’t we just take him out? Hand me a rifle and one shot in the morning when he walks out to take his morning dump, and all will be over.”
“You know we can’t do that,” Winter whispered. “Our mission is to surveil him, no contact, remember?”
“Of course, numb nuts, but this is tedious.”
“I figured it’d be a welcome assignment since you’ve been on your back asleep for the previous few months.”
“Funny. You try walking into a bomb and living to tell the tale.”
“You’ve got me there.”
“No shit. I’m just saying, there better be more to this than just sitting here, wasting away in the middle of the jungle, just waiting for Payne to contact Don Juan the professor. You know Niki’s got a thing for him?”
“Bullshit,” Winter said. He didn’t buy it, but the jealousy in his voice was unmistakable.
“Not kidding. Did you see the prof? I know many women who would fall for his charm. He’s probably hittin’ that right now.”
“Enough! Stop!”
“Alright, alright, easy. I’m just playing with you. Relax.”
There was silence for a moment before Fox spoke again. “Why don’t you just come out and tell her how you feel?”
“What do you mean?” Winter said.
“Look, I may have just woken up from a coma, but anyone with two eyes and two ears can tell there’s something between you two. Stop being a pussy and make a move already before someone else does.” She peered through the scope again and saw movement.
As Winter was about to respond, Fox spoke first instead. “He’s moving.” She jumped up from her prone state and started into a crouched run.
“What?” Winter stared through the scope. “Lara, wait.” He pushed from the ground and jogged after her, keeping his head low.
Their Jeep was parked behind them, but that’s not the direction Fox traveled. She advanced toward Payne’s camp instead. Winter caught up with her but didn’t dare speak, as they were close now, within two hundred yards. And any sort of rushed movement or sound could give away their position.
Fox fell into the tall grass and peered through her scope again. Five men stood at the edge of the camp, and three faced outward, with automatic weapons slung across their chests, staring into the darkness, awaiting an attempt on Payne.
Two of the men were engaged in a heated conversation. By the sound and look of it through the scope, it was Payne making his point clear about the impudence of the other man, whose head was lowered in submission.
“He’s . . . he’s . . .” Fox strained to watch, and Winter witnessed it through his scope as well.
Winter squeezed Fox’s arm, reminding her of the mission. They could not intervene; there was absolutely nothing they could do in that moment.
The man didn’t even bother to look up, and Payne didn’t hesitate. He simply lifted his gun and pulled the trigger.
The sound reverberated throughout the jungle, and the orange muzzle fire lit up the darkness.
Both Fox and Winter witnessed the execution yet could do nothing but sit on their hands as Payne stuffed his handgun into his belt line and walk back into his tent with three bodyguards by his side, leaving the poor soul in the dirt to rot.
“You think he’s in the tent for the night?” Fox asked.
“Probably, why? You think you can get to his Jeep?”
“Now’s our chance to set the tracker. I think I can get close. No, I know I can.”
Winter breathed in deep. “Then let’s move.”
Fox lifted herself from the ground, and Winter grabbed her arm again.
“Be careful.”
“Ha. Like in Cannes?” She was careful there and it almost cost her, her life.
“Touché.”
Moving through the darkness with no light was surprisingly easy for Fox. She was swift, nimble, agile, and light on her feet. Her slight frame made next to no sound as she crept, crouched low to the ground, leg over leg. The tent was no more than one hundred yards away, and Payne’s Jeep was parked twenty feet behind the dead man’s boots. She would need to get closer. Hearing whooping and hollering from Payne’s tent, Fox persisted until she reached the bumper.
What I wouldn’t give for a car bomb right about now, she thought.
Then she ducked around the driver’s side door, needing to place the tracker beneath the driver’s seat. The window was lowered, and she stuck her hand inside to unlatch the door. It creaked as she pulled it open. Frozen in fear, instantly her eye went to the tent; surely someone had heard the whiny groan of the rusted hinges. But no one appeared.
Thank God. She let out a loud breath of relief, placed the tracker carefully, and then shut the door.
She glanced at the dead man lying on the ground. She wondered if he was a man of consequence, someone ZULU would want to know about. She turned to see Winter behind her, there for backup, stuck in the grass a hundred feet back. She decided to act.
She proceeded toward the dead body.
“Fox, no!” Winter said in a loud whisper through his comms.
But she didn’t listen to his warning. Acting on instinct, her steps were quiet. He was eleven feet away, then nine, seven, five, three, until she could nearly touch his boot. One more step and she was there. The man lay face down in the dirt. She rolled him over. The light from the tent was enough to make out his facial features, but the hole through the top of his forehead made identification impossible.
Poor bastard.
But in that brief moment of reflection, a man appeared from the tent, a lone man sent out for patrol. He had found an intruder upon his first step into the night air.
Fox was petrified as the man lifted his weapon. She had a choice, a split-second decision to make: which way sho
uld she run? She retreated into the thick grass where she and Winter had originally hid, back toward their Jeep. Her only hope was the man would be a terrible shot.
Automatic rifle fire burst into flame as she fled. Whistling rounds flew all around, each missing their mark, flying high over her head. The Jeep was still over a half mile away, and in the darkness and panic she couldn’t be aware of her heading, but that didn’t stop her, nor did it stop the barrage of bullets.
“Fox, where are you?” Winter said through the microphone in her ear.
She heard the call but was too afraid to stop. Her heart ached from the excessive pumping, but she kept running.
Again, Winter called, “Fox, where are you?”
But again, she didn’t respond.
“Fox, I’m at the Jeep. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come pick you up.”
Suddenly she stopped, but she didn’t dare turn around. Like a child afraid to face a monster in the night, she refused to look. But the truth was, she had no idea where she was. She was in the middle of a jungle in Africa with no light to guide her and no way to find her way back. She was lost.
Panting and spinning around in a circle, Fox couldn’t catch her breath. Winter’s voice rang in her earpiece, over and over. “Where are you? Where are you?” he said, but she couldn’t answer back. She was too afraid of the men pursuing her. Besides, what could she say? She didn’t know where she was.
She heard the sound of branches breaking or rustling to her left. Immediately, she dropped to the earth and peered over her bent forearms resting on the ground. The sound grew closer, louder. She lifted a knife from her leather sheath and gripped it tight in front of her. She couldn’t risk using her gun; it’d be too loud, cause too much attention. No, if the person moving toward her was hostile, the only thing she could hope to do is incapacitate him with a swipe of her blade.
But as the rustling continued, it became clear this was no human gait; this was a vehicle. But which vehicle? Who was driving? Was it Winter or Payne? Then clarity struck: if it was Payne’s Jeep, the driver would be shining the headlights on the ground, trying to locate any identifying feature. Since there was no light, she made her best guess and found the courage to speak, but only in a whisper. “Winter, is that you?”
Second Best: A Niki Finley Novel (A Niki Finley Thriller Book 2) Page 6