The Oracle

by Clive Cussler

  Sam fired. Deric fell back, lifeless.

  Three more shots rent the air.

  Sam turned to see Lazlo at the window, staring in shock, his gun pointed into the room.

  “You okay?” Sam asked.

  “He was going to kill them.”

  Okoro leaned against the wall, looking faint. Sam aimed at the two fallen men, making sure they were dead, recovering Joe’s weapon before moving to the window next to Lazlo. Inside, the three remaining hostages looked as shell-shocked as Lazlo, unable to take their eyes from the dead man on the floor.

  Sam looked over at Okoro. “How many gunmen?”

  “Four.”

  “We’re good. For now.”

  “What do you mean ‘for now’?”

  “Maybe we should go inside, where we can sit down.” He surveyed the road that ran across the north end of the farm, leading up into the hills toward the school. Typically, it was at least a forty-minute drive down that winding road to there. Assuming the kidnappers left when Pete first called them, they should’ve been long gone. What didn’t make sense is why these men were still here. And now they were dead. He looked at Lazlo, handing him the key fob for the Land Rover. “Take one of Okoro’s men with you to get the car. Hide it behind the barn. Warn me if you see any vehicles coming from that direction.”

  Lazlo nodded, appearing grateful that he was remaining outside.

  Sam envied him in that moment. Informing a father that his only daughter was a kidnap victim was not something to look forward to.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Those who move are the ones who see the lion’s footprints.

  – AFRICAN PROVERB –

  Remi heard the second volley of distant gunshots coming from the direction of the farmhouse. The timing would put Sam in the vicinity. Though she wished she had some way to contact him, she had every confidence that he was the one doing the shooting. The thought buoyed her spirits, something she desperately needed since Makao had failed to take her bait and returned to look for the upper trail.

  Remi waited several minutes. When she no longer heard the sound of his pickup, she worked her way through the shrubs to the road, coming out beside the supply truck. Moonlight caught on one of the bullet holes in the side panel from their first encounter with Makao’s gang. If Nasha hadn’t escaped the Kalu brothers by hiding in the truck, they might have fallen prey to Makao back then.

  A twist of fate had brought them all together.

  As much as she worried about Sam and Lazlo, the girls were her first priority.

  She needed to get back to Makao before he and his men found that upper trail. Though the truck would get her there faster, she didn’t dare risk it. Instead, she jogged the quarter mile up the hill, dismayed to discover he’d parked almost on top of the trail’s entrance.

  Makao stood near his open driver’s door, the engine running, while all of his men seemed to be searching the road above them, the surface lit by the pickup’s headlights. She ducked behind a tree, watching through the branches as they tromped around, knowing that the only tracks they’d see up there were hers from when she dragged the sign to the back of the truck.

  “Well?” Makao called out.

  “This looks like where the truck stopped,” Jimi said, pointing toward the side of the road, perilously close to where the sign had once stood. “You can see the tire tracks where it pulled off.”

  Makao joined them in front of the truck, the headlights casting a gigantic shadow of the four men up the hillside.

  “Why would it pull off here?” one of the others asked.

  “Why do you think?” Makao said. “The Fargo woman set us up. She let the girls out here somewhere, broke the sign off, and led us on a goose chase. The trail has to be there somewhere.”

  Had he parked just a few feet back, he would have easily seen the brush covering its entrance.

  Even better, they were blinded to anything behind the truck. She edged toward it, doing her best to stay in the grass on the side of the road, hoping to avoid leaving footprints.

  When she reached the tailgate, she eyed the path just a few feet to her right. A single tree trunk was all that stood between her and the upper trail. She ducked behind it when Makao returned to the truck, reaching inside for a flashlight. He turned it on, shining it across the ground, then up onto the hillside, searching for evidence of their escape.

  Remi pressed herself against the tree, edging around it to keep it between her and him. Two more steps and she’d be on the path—and in the open for a good distance, the brush too low to hide her even if she belly-crawled up to where the forest thickened. Watching the men, she blindly felt around with her foot, hitting a fist-sized rock. Scraping it toward her, she repeated her search until she had several gathered at her feet. Squatting, she picked them up and tossed one of the larger ones over the top of the truck to the other side of the road.

  The stone landed in a bush, rattling the branches.

  “Hear that?” one of the men said.

  “What?” another asked.

  “Quiet,” Makao ordered as Remi lobbed a second stone high over them. It landed on the other side, thudding, then rolling down the hill. “There,” he said.

  “I hear it.” The men rushed to that side of the road, pointing their guns and flashlights into the brush. She threw one last stone and ran up the trail and across the open space as the beam of a flashlight swung across the road, hitting the trees in front of her.

  She dove to the ground, then peered through the leaves, seeing Makao almost standing at the trail entrance.

  “Something moved up there,” one of the men said, drawing his gun. Another aimed his flashlight into the shrubs, blinding her.

  Crack!

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  The fool speaks, the wise man listens.

  – ETHIOPIAN PROVERB –

  A bush pig scrambled down the hill past Makao.

  “Idiots,” he said, then looked at the scuffs in the dirt near the back of his truck, trying to decide if one of his men made them when they were jumping out or if they could’ve been caused by girls searching for a trail. He swept the beam of light across the trees and shrubs growing on the right side of the road, his attention catching on what looked like a waffled footprint in the dirt near a tuft of broken dried grass. None of his men had walked down that far, so the print wasn’t theirs. He moved closer and crouched down. Same waffle print he’d seen on the lower trail. Too small to be a man’s, too large to be a girl’s.

  Remi Fargo, no doubt, returning to the scene of the crime.

  He aimed his flashlight uphill, knowing if she went to the trouble to double back, the trail had to be here somewhere. Sure enough, he saw more signs of disturbed vegetation and partial footprints in the dirt.

  Each had the same waffle pattern.

  Jimi joined him. “Find something?”

  Makao pointed with his flashlight. “Wasn’t the Fargo woman wearing hiking boots?”

  “Definitely.” He squatted, taking a better look. “You think she let the girls out here, then drew us farther down the hill, pretending to take that lower trail?” Jimi laughed as he stood. “Smart woman.”

  Makao hated to admit it but Jimi was right. Remi Fargo had outwitted them. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much she’d actually manipulated their movements from the time they were kidnapped until the moment he had found the sign in the back of the Fargo truck. He was not going to underestimate her again. “That trail those girls took has to be around here somewhere.”

  Eventually, they found the entrance by tripping over the stump once belonging with the sign. Had his truck not been parked practically on top of it, they might have noticed it sooner. The Fargo woman was tenacious, following him back up the hill—he’d give her that. What he wouldn’t do is point out that they’d been bested by a woman. That was bound to stoke their anger and turn them trigger-happy.

  Not a good combination when his hostages were
worth more alive than dead.

  He shined his light on one of the waffle boot prints. “That belongs to Remi Fargo. I have a feeling she’s experienced. Be careful. If she moves those girls off the trail, you could pass them right by and not even know it.”

  Pili glanced at the three men beside him. “Maybe we should wait at the school until morning. There’s beds and food.”

  “And if they called the police, that’s the first place they’ll come looking,” Makao said. “For the missing girls and for you. If you have to rest, find a place nearby out of sight. But know that the longer you wait, the farther they’ll get.”

  “You’re not going with us?”

  “Jimi and I are going down to the farm to find out what happened there.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Do not let anything happen to those hostages. They’re worth nothing if they’re dead.”

  The four men climbed up the hillside. Jimi followed Makao to his pickup, taking the passenger’s seat as Makao got behind the wheel, while the other two jumped in the back. Makao’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, looked at the screen, recognized the Tunisian number. He dropped the phone in the cupholder, ignoring the call. The phone buzzed again and Jimi reached for it.

  “Don’t answer. It’s Tarek,” he said. “I don’t want him to know what’s going on.”

  “He’s not going to like it if he finds out.”

  “Who says he’s going to find out?” he said as he maneuvered the truck back and forth on the narrow road until he was facing downhill.

  Once they reached the lower trail where the Fargos’ truck was abandoned, he turned off the headlights and continued on at a much slower pace.

  “Why’d you turn off the headlights?”

  “Making sure we get down this hill alive and past that farm. It’ll be hard to collect a ransom if we’re dead.”

  “You’re driving a white pickup. They’re bound to see it once you’re on the main road. It’ll be safer with the lights on.”

  Makao ignored him, driving as fast as he dared on the straightaway, then slowing to a snail’s pace at the next curve, his eyes straining to make out any details in the road.

  “Pothole,” Jimi said.

  Makao cursed when the front end dipped down, slamming into the dirt road. At this rate, they were never making it down the hill. He finally turned on the headlights, hoping whoever was at that farm wasn’t watching.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  However long the night, the dawn will break.

  – AFRICAN PROVERB –

  Myriad emotions flashed across Okoro’s face as he listened to what Sam was telling him. “You say my daughter is one of the hostages at the school?”

  “With my wife,” Sam said. “Had we known anything like this would happen, we never would’ve—”

  “No.” He stood, fists clenched, directing his rage at Sam. “I was told she’d be safe up there.”

  “You have every right to be angry,” Sam said.

  “One thing I know about Zara. She would never blame the people who helped her live her dream. She would blame the people who stole it.” His jaw muscles ticked as he held Sam’s gaze. “Who are they? Boko Haram? Fulani terrorists?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  “I’m going to find these men. And I’ll kill them if any harm comes to my daughter.”

  Lazlo burst into the front door, out of breath. “Lights … Headlights.”

  “Where?” Sam asked.

  It took him a moment before he could answer. “Coming down from the hills.”

  Sam and Okoro ran outside, then down the drive, until they had a view of the road that ran across the north edge of the property. Sam caught a glimpse of headlights about three-quarters of the way down the hillside before it was lost in the trees again. “We may have about ten minutes before they get here.” He turned around, looking at the dead guards lying outside the mud-sided building, wondering if he should hide them.

  There wasn’t time. The vehicle was coming fast.

  Sam passed out the long guns taken from the dead men. “Don’t shoot unless I give the order.”

  Okoro and his three farmhands followed Sam. “I say we just kill them.”

  “As much as I agree with you,” Sam said, stepping over one of the dead men, “alive will be better.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they might provide valuable information about where the girls are.”

  Lazlo rejoined them. All five men set up behind the dead gunmen’s pickup, aiming at Makao’s white Toyota as it pulled into the long drive and stopped about two hundred yards out.

  “Do you think they saw us?” Lazlo asked.

  As if in answer, the vehicle suddenly reversed, tires spinning in the dirt as it backed to the road and sped off.

  Sam stood, watching as the red taillights disappeared around the bend, not relaxing until he saw the Toyota cresting the hill past the bend in the road. “Something alerted them.”

  Lazlo held up one of the phones from the dead guard. “Missed phone call, would be my guess.”

  “I’m going after them,” Sam said, walking behind the barn.

  “Not without me,” Okoro replied, following him and Lazlo.

  Sam had no sooner slid behind the wheel than his phone rang. Amal’s number showed on the screen. “It’s Makao,” Sam said, then answered.

  “Show me my money or you’ll never see your wife again.”

  The words echoed through Sam’s brain and he clamped his mouth shut when what he wanted to do was reach through the phone and strangle the man who dared to threaten him with Remi’s life. He took a slow, calming breath. “That much money takes time,” Sam said. “It could take a couple of days.”

  “Even for someone like you?”

  “Yes.”

  A few seconds of silence, then, “How much can you get me by tomorrow morning?”

  “I’ll need to call my banker. Give me about ten minutes.”

  “Five.” The line went dead.

  Sam looked out toward the hills, going over the conversation in his head, a glimmer of hope blooming.

  “What did he want?” Okoro asked.

  “Money. He wanted to know how much I could get by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Lazlo said. “That bloody well smacks of desperation. You think Mrs. Fargo and the girls got away?”

  “It’s starting to look that way.” Sam glanced up to the sky, the stars still bright, dawn hours away. “We better not get ahead of ourselves. If they’re desperate, that makes them unpredictable and dangerous. Call Pete. Tell him to keep those girls hidden until we can get help up there.”

  “Will do.”

  Sam called Selma to give her an update.

  “Guarded good news,” she said.

  “If Makao doesn’t have the girls, we need to find them before he does. Have you heard back from Rube?”

  “Yes. He’s pulling in a few favors with his Nigerian military contacts. A helicopter with a search and rescue team is headed your way first thing in the morning, along with some extra men to stand guard at the school until the matter’s resolved. I’ll send an email with anything else. In the meantime, get some rest.”

  “Thanks, Selma. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

  Sam called Makao next. He picked up on the first ring. “I can get you one hundred thousand dollars by tomorrow night. Now let me talk to my wife or one of the girls.”

  “You’ll talk to them when we have the money. You know how to reach me.”

  Sam’s phone beeped as the call ended. “Things are looking up. We’ll have a helicopter in the morning and we can start our search then.”

  “Why wait?” Okoro said. “We should be heading up there to look for them now.”

  Sam, understanding the man’s panic and knowing the real danger came from making a mistake from being too tired, said, “What I do know is there could be more of his men up there. The last thing we want to do is walk into a trap. We need to wait for m
orning. I’ll take the first watch.”

  “I’ll watch with you,” Okoro said. “We let the others sleep. I doubt I’ll be able to.”

  The two men walked out to the front of the house. After several minutes of strained silence, Okoro looked over at him. “I should never have agreed to rent my property to you.”

  “If I’d ever have thought any danger would come to the girls, I’d never have agreed to build the school. We took every precaution—”

  “Not enough, it seems,” Okoro said quietly. The two faced the long drive, looking out at the hillside that led up to the school.

  Sam studied the dark forest, worried, wondering where Remi and the girls might have taken refuge. The park was a collage of habitats, everything from grasslands and swamps to woodlands and rain forests, and all manner of wildlife that might be found therein. “What sort of dangers are they facing?”

  “Much depends on where they go. The biggest threat would be the Fulani herdsmen. Some of them are no better than Boko Haram. Killing anyone who threatens the land they’ve claimed for livestock.”

  “Remi would know to watch out for them.”

  Okoro looked at him. “You seem to have a lot of confidence in this wife of yours.”

  “For good reason. The only other person I’d trust to keep those girls safe is me.”

  “One thing I don’t understand,” Okoro said. “If this Makao doesn’t have my daughter or your wife, why are you promising him money?”

  “To keep him connected to us,” Sam said. “If I had to guess, he’s hoping to cut his losses and run. I’m going to kill him, and every one of them, before that happens.”

  Okoro’s smile was grim. “At least we agree on something.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Earth is the queen of beds.

  – NAMIBIAN PROVERB –

  Once Remi caught up with Amal and the girls, she pressed them at a fast clip for a couple of hours until their exhaustion became too hard to ignore. Without rest, they were prone to make mistakes and that was a danger. Jogging ahead, she found a clearing that was far enough from the trail, the entrance well camouflaged to keep them from readily being seen.