by DiAnn Mills
“I can’t, habibti.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. I gave my word.”
So that was Ben’s game. “I’ve been watching him. At first I thought it was simply a slow recovery from his gunshot. Then I feared infection. The thought of heart problems crossed my mind. But after today I think it’s cancer.”
“Don’t you think he’d tell us if something were wrong?”
“Remind me when you’re due to have your next yellow fever vaccination to use a dull needle.”
He chuckled.
“It’s not funny. He’s asked you not to tell me, and you’re being all noble about it.” When he didn’t respond, a sick feeling crept through her. It had nothing to do with her pregnancy. “Oh, honey. This is horrible. Maybe . . .”
“What?”
“Remember the night I drove to his camp when Muti escaped? I told you he admitted his feelings hadn’t changed, but he respected you and me. Now I’m wondering if he was simply tying up loose ends.”
Again silence.
“You don’t have to respond. I expect you to keep your word. I just hope he’s getting the best possible medical care, and he doesn’t purposely stand in front of a bullet.” She snuggled up next to Paul. “I could help him. Provide treatments closer to home. I hope you realize your silence confirms my suspicions.”
He kissed her forehead. “You are going to be very sleepy in the morning, and I’ve got another flight to Nairobi as soon as the sun comes up. I’ll be back tomorrow evening. Do you want to ride along tomorrow? Makes no difference to me, because either way I’ll be making another flight day after tomorrow—to take you and Thomas to Nairobi before Nizam arrives.”
“The second flight is better for me. I have too many patients. Paul, I’d almost forgotten about your meeting. This scares me.”
“I understand. What is important to me is to have you far from here when my brother arrives. The people at the Mayfield House will take good care of you.”
“I pray I still have a husband when it’s over.”
* * *
Paul figured as long as he had to spend an hour in Nairobi for FTW, he’d make arrangements with the university to contribute a sizable donation to Santino’s education fund. The young man had served well under Ben’s command and had been a great asset to Larson. When Santino was in Warkou with Larson and Sarah, Paul knew his family was in good hands. Now he and Larson could repay the young man with an investment in his future.
He pulled his phone from his backpack and made a call to the university office. “I’d like to make financial arrangements to help a registered student with his tuition.”
“And what is the student’s name?”
“Santino Deng. He’s Sudanese.”
“Just a moment, sir.”
Paul waited in the airport coffee shop, enjoying the dark, rich brew and munching on a sandwich. Moments ticked by, but he was comfortable in the air-conditioned building. Two planes took off—Air Kenya, with tourists headed for the Masai Mara. When all of this settled, he’d take Larson there for a vacation.
“Sir, did you say the student’s name is Santino Deng?”
The voice shook him back to his business. “Yes, he’s enrolled for the fall session.”
“We do not have a student by that name.”
“There has to be a mistake.” Paul’s mind raced to come up with any other name that Santino could have used.
“I don’t think so. Deng is a common name, but we do not have a Santino as a first or second name with a surname of Deng.”
“Thank you.” He disconnected the call and leaned against the wall. Santino said he’d gotten a job at the Hilton hotel.
He called the hotel. Moments later, the manager confirmed Santino was neither an employee nor had he ever completed an application for employment.
Why had Santino lied to them about school registration and a job? What had he done during the time Paul brought him to Nairobi to take care of school matters and employment? Santino hadn’t asked for a ride back to Warkou from Nairobi . . . Paul had assumed a member of the SPLA had arranged the transportation.
Paul dialed Ben.
“Hey, do you know who brought Santino back from Nairobi when he registered for school?”
“I assumed you’d gone back to get him.”
“No. He said he had a way. How long did he serve under you?”
“Almost three years. What’s going on?”
“He’s not registered at the university, and he’s not an employee of the Hilton hotel. I’m trying to figure out why he lied. Do you know where he came from?”
“Sarah told me she had a nephew who wanted to fight. That’s all I know.”
“Is he her blood nephew?”
“I have no idea, but now I wish I knew.”
“Ben, I need to do some thinking about this. Nizam is planning to be in Warkou in three days, and now this. Can you have the two soldiers there alerted to a possible problem?” One more time, Paul was asking someone else to do what he should be handling.
“I’m on it. We need soldiers guarding the perimeter of the village for your meeting with Nizam. It’s only a couple of days away, so I’ll go on ahead myself. And this gives me leverage with the situation. If Santino is up to no good, I want to be the one to handle him.” He cursed. “I’m really slipping to have missed the signs.”
Paul checked his watch for his scheduled takeoff time. “Am I jumping to conclusions here if I say Muti, Santino, and Nizam may be working together?”
“I’m right there with you.”
“Nizam might change his mind about coming after me if he learns that Santino’s been apprehended.” Paul’s stomach lurched. “I’ve got to call Larson now. Have to get her out of there until one of us arrives. I’ll take her and Thomas to Nairobi until this is settled.”
“I’m leaving now.”
Once Paul disconnected the call, he dialed Larson’s number. It rang seven times before it rolled over to her voice mail. Alarm grasped his senses. She could be busy with patients. She could be busy taking care of Thomas. She could be sleeping. A number of diversions could be vying for her attention. Why was it that every time he needed to get ahold of her, she didn’t have her phone? His suspicions of Santino’s possible treachery began to take form.
Santino had supposedly been in Nairobi when Muti escaped. While living in Warkou, he could have easily accessed both Paul’s and Larson’s phones and given those numbers to Nizam or whoever wanted the information. For that matter, he could have learned the numbers even before moving to Warkou by gaining access to Ben’s satellite phone. Paul recalled Santino’s reluctance to talk about his religion. The pieces now began to fit.
His phone rang. It was Larson.
“Are you all right?” He hoped he sounded calm despite the near panic raging through him.
“Sure, honey. What’s wrong?”
“Are you alone?”
“Santino and Sarah are with me. Ben’s men are somewhere watching the road.”
“Can you walk outside and talk to me privately?”
He heard her footsteps on the concrete floor. “Okay, I’m outside.”
“I’ve discovered some things about Santino that concern me.”
She laughed. “He’s been a godsend for us. I can’t imagine him doing anything to upset us.”
“I don’t want you to repeat what I’m about to say. All I want you to do is listen.”
“Paul, you’re scaring me.”
“Santino never registered for school, and he’s not employed at the Hilton. He lied to us. And the more I think about the situation with my brother and the fact someone gave him our phone numbers, the more I suspect Santino.”
She gasped. “What else?”
“He was supposedly on his way back from Nairobi when Muti escaped. And think about his keeping his religion a secret.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Ben and his battalion are on their w
ay there. See if you can casually find out if Sarah is Santino’s birth aunt.”
“I know the answer to that.”
“I don’t want you to give yourself away in this conversation. So is he or isn’t he?”
“Isn’t.”
“I want you to take Thomas and get out of there. Take Sarah with you. Call Ben and let him know where you are. But do not let Santino see that you’re upset. If you meet up with Ben’s men, do not go back to the village until this is over.”
“I understand. When will you be here?”
“By nightfall.”
“If I learn any additional information, I’ll let you know.”
* * *
Larson walked back into the clinic to find she was alone with Santino and Sarah. Her heart thudded against her chest. Paul wouldn’t jump to conclusions without confirming the facts. He was much too logical. Santino’s involvement made sense—too much sense.
“Santino, why don’t you call it quits for the day? We don’t have any patients, and all the work is caught up. Besides, we have to get used to working without you again.”
He peered up from a newspaper Paul had brought back on his last visit. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”
She shook her head. “I’m tired, and I’d like to have some alone time with Thomas.”
Sarah replaced the broom. “I can watch the clinic while you take the baby back to your tukul.”
“Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate this.”
Larson watched Santino leave. Questions. So many questions plagued her that she couldn’t wrap her mind around any of them. She recalled Santino’s criticism of the women in the village where she’d taught the health class. Now she knew he’d lied about his future in Nairobi.
She walked to Thomas’s crib and smiled at him in his sleep. So peaceful. “Sarah, how long have you known Santino?”
“About ten years. His grandmother was a good friend until she died in a GOS raid. Then he came to live with me.”
“So he lived with his grandmother?”
“No. He came to me with the news about her death, and I took him in.”
“I see. I know you’re going to miss him.”
“He’s a fine man, but . . .” Sarah’s face saddened.
“But what?”
“I don’t understand some of his ideas.”
Larson made her way to the woman’s side. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. It will be better when Santino leaves for school.” Sarah gathered up the dirty rags. “I’ll watch the clinic for you.”
Shocked by Sarah’s response, Larson could only stare at her friend. “Is there something you should tell me?”
“I can’t.”
Sarah knows. Fear grappled with every inch of her. “Don’t keep anything from me I ought to know.”
The older woman stiffened, turned, and left the clinic.
Larson clenched her fists to gain control. She swallowed the knot in her throat. Her vision blurred. Santino had lied, and Sarah knew about his deceit and maybe more. Why?
I need to get Thomas out of here. Adrenaline gushed through her veins. She reached into the refrigerator for four bottles and set them on the counter. A full case of water sat in a corner by Paul’s computer. She needed diapers, wipes, formula, and something for her to eat. A change of clothes.
“Are you going someplace? I thought you wanted to spend some time with the baby.”
Larson whirled around to see Sarah.
“Take me with you, Larson. Don’t leave me here.”
* * *
Ben wondered if he dared to count how many times in the past three months Larson had been in danger. At least she would be safe in Nairobi. But what about now with Santino? She needed to stay in Kenya. Enough was enough.
Since the change in pain medication, he didn’t feel the jostling in the truck as badly, which helped his otherwise-dour mood. An elevation in his energy level convinced him the meds were working.
But Santino? How stupid could I have been? He’d cleverly deceived all of them with his charm and good manners. Had he changed, or had everything been a lie from the beginning? He’d followed Ben into battle and killed enemy soldiers—probably his own allies. Did he have no respect for life as long as the infidels were destroyed too?
Ben pounded his palm against the steering wheel. Fury soared at the man he’d trusted. Santino must have set Muti free. He was startled. Santino was with Ben the day Muti had abducted Larson, but the young man had not shot either of the two men killed in the rescue.
Could Santino’s treachery be part of a strategy orchestrated by Paul’s family or the government? Ben tried to shake off the feeling that before the night was over, they’d learn the truth—hopefully not at the cost of Paul’s and Larson’s lives.
CHAPTER 30
“You knew.” Larson trembled. Sarah’s betrayal cut deep.
Sarah wrung her hands. Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. I hoped what I heard was a mistake.” She glanced around the clinic. “I’m so sorry. I don’t think he suspects me—I mean, of knowing he is so evil. Let me go with you, please.”
Larson heard the fear and the remorse. In Dinka culture, it was an act of cowardice to apologize, and there wasn’t a word in their language for please, but Sarah had said the words in English. “All right. We’ll discuss this later. Take the phone and the keys. I’ll be right behind you with Thomas.”
Sarah snatched up the items and a packet of diapers and hurried out the door.
What has happened here? Those I loved and trusted have deceived me. Larson dropped Thomas’s bottles into an insulated container, along with a change of clothes and four bottles of water. Hoisting the bag onto her shoulder, she lifted her baby into her arms.
She was finished with running. This was the last time she’d run with her baby. Tomorrow she’d leave Sudan. She and Paul had their problems of late, but those things would be resolved. After this was over.
Suddenly an explosion ripped through the air and crowded out her thoughts. Larson gasped and rushed to the door. The Hummer had burst into a heap of flames.
“Sarah! Oh, God, no.”
She hurried with Thomas toward the body of the woman she loved as much as her own mother. Sarah had been tossed several feet from the burning Hummer, into the side of a tukul. Blood coated her body. One arm had been severed, and half of her face had been blown away. A crowd gathered. Screams and cries pierced Larson’s ears.
She bent down to the dear woman, holding Thomas to her heart. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I love you.” Her friend had died because of her. This was meant for me.
“Dr. Farid, can you help her?” a man asked.
She shook her head. “Sarah’s with Jesus now.”
Dear, sweet Sarah. The one woman who knew Larson better than she knew herself. The woman who had prayed for her until she’d found Jesus. The dear woman who had told her it was okay to marry Paul, that Ben would find someone else. The woman who’d held Larson’s head when she vomited with the pregnancy. The woman who spent hours helping Larson at the clinic. The woman who had been betrayed—just as Larson, Paul, and Ben had been betrayed.
Oh, Jesus, I loved her so. I know You are holding her in Your arms now. Please tell her how very much she will be missed.
Only the death of her beloved husband or baby could be worse. Sobs tore through her body, and she buried her face in Thomas’s chest. How close she’d come to handing her tiny son to Sarah.
Suddenly the reality of the situation pushed away the anguish, and survival took precedence. Sarah had the phone when the Hummer exploded. Larson could not contact Paul or Ben. She was on her own.
She lifted her face, conscious of someone’s arms supporting her.
“I can’t believe Aunt Sarah is gone.” Santino’s voice quivered. “I’ll take care of her body. Perhaps we can find Bishop Malou to conduct her funeral.”
Larson stiffened. I can’t let him know.
&nbs
p; Every inch of her wanted to lay Thomas on the ground and scratch out the eyes of this man who pretended comfort, but then she’d be dead too. Raw emotions clawed at her heart. She had to outwit Santino. She had to make him believe Sarah had gone to her death with his secret.
“I loved her so much.” Larson swallowed the bile rising in her throat over what she must do. She turned her head and sobbed into Santino’s murderous chest.
“I’ll find out who killed her.” He gripped her shoulders. “Muti had a hand in this, I’m sure.”
“Paul and Ben will make him pay.”
“You need to call them. You’re in a dangerous situation.”
Larson paused. Dare she tell him the truth? “I can’t call either of them. Sarah had the phone with her.”
Santino moaned. “Come on. Let me get you back to the clinic. I wonder where Colonel Alier’s other two men are.”
Larson feared they had met their fate too. Thomas began to cry, not a soft whimper but a wail, as though he sensed the danger.
“I must take care of him.”
“Go ahead and let me remove Sarah’s body. It will help my grief.”
You liar. You filthy, lying murderer. Are you insane?
Insanity she could have handled, but the realization Santino was acting upon a well-thought-out plan seized her with terror.
He reached for Thomas.
“No, Santino. I’ll carry my son. I need him close to me.”
“I understand.”
“Your taking care of Sarah will help me.” She drew in a sharp breath. “I need time alone.”
He nodded, and she made her way to the clinic. Reality rooted in the pit of her stomach. Santino had failed in killing her, but he had succeeded in separating her from help. What did he plan next? She had no means of contacting Paul or Ben. No way to alert them. No transportation. Only her pistol in the medicine cabinet.
The moment she stepped inside the clinic, she laid Thomas in his cradle, propped a bottle in his mouth, and lifted the insulated bag from her shoulder to the concrete floor. She made her way to the drawer that contained the medicine cabinet keys. Her fingers reached to the back portion of the drawer under clean rags and touched the keys. Relieved, she drew them out. With trembling fingers she unlocked the cabinet.