The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

Makao slowed the pickup and rolled to a stop. “This should work. There’s nothing but grass for miles. We’ll see them the moment they try to run—if they try.”

He set the parking brake, left the engine running, then waited for the dust to settle before opening his door. To the north, the direction they’d come from, a few trees dotted the savanna that stretched out on either side of the road beneath a cloudless blue sky. They were headed southeast, and he turned that direction, eyeing the road where the pavement—or what remained of it—started again just before the bend. A half mile past, a thick stand of trees created some natural cover.

He slapped the side of the truck. “You two gather leaves and grass. Jimi, get the bag. We’ll set up here.”

The men left their guns behind, hopped out of the truck.

Jimi walked around to the back, lowering the tailgate, grabbing a large black vinyl satchel by its strap. The contents jangled as he dragged it from the bed of the pickup. “Where do you want me to drop them?”

Makao pointed to the narrowest stretch of road. “There.”

Jimi trudged over, shaking the contents of the bag into the road, the dark gray tire spikes scattering across the ground. Once the bag was empty, he kicked dirt across the spikes until they were nearly as red as the road.

Makao leaned against the side of the truck, lighting up a cigarette, waiting for the men to finish tossing grass and leaves over everything to hide the hazard. “Not too high,” he said. “We don’t want them driving around it.”

If they did, his men would shoot out the tires, the plan of last resort. In his opinion, these things always worked best when no shots were fired.

A few minutes later, he took a final drag of his cigarette, then blew out a plume of smoke, eyeing their work. They’d done a fairly good job camouflaging the spikes. He dropped his cigarette into the dirt and stomped it out with his boot heel. “Let’s go.”

The men jumped back into the Toyota and he drove around the hidden spikes, following the bend past the trees, searching for an area wide enough in the forest’s edge to park the truck where it wasn’t visible from the road.

His vehicle hidden, they found a spot beneath the trees and settled in for the long wait. Makao checked the message from Tarek on his phone, looking at the pictures of the Fargos and their Land Rover, smiling to himself.

This was going to be easy money, no doubt about it.

CHAPTER TEN

If you want to go quickly, go alone.

If you want to go far, go together.

– AFRICAN PROVERB –

After breakfast, Sam, Remi, Amal, and Hank stopped to pick up the new supply truck, with its canvas cargo cover, that Selma had purchased for the school. The sight of the Mercedes Zetros 4×4, meant to handle the rough mountain roads, seemed to make Amal nervous. Perhaps, Remi thought, it was a reminder that they’d be miles away from anywhere should she have one of her attacks. The moment Sam took possession of the keys, Amal turned a worried glance Remi’s way. “I hope you won’t be upset, but I’m just not sure about going. I can stay with Dr. LaBelle until she’s better.”

“Of course I’m not upset,” Remi said. “Disappointed, yes, because I know the girls will love you. But y

ou have to do what’s right for you.”

Sam walked up a moment later. “We’re ready to go.”

“Amal’s changed her mind. We need to take her back to the hotel.”

“Honestly,” Amal said. “I’d be glad to take a taxi.”

Hank, overhearing Amal, looked up from his phone. “Remember how you worried about the conference? That turned out okay. And in a couple of days, Dr. LaBelle will be joining us.”

Remi gave her an encouraging smile. “He’s right. We’ll have fun. And if, for some reason, you feel as if you need to come back, we’ll bring you home.”

The moment she nodded in agreement, Sam held out the Land Rover key fob to Hank. “Any chance I can have you drive the car to the surplus store? It’ll give me a chance to go over the truck controls with Remi. Just in case.”

“Absolutely,” Hank replied.

Remi climbed into the truck, then turned a shrewd glance toward her husband. “You didn’t seem terribly broken up when you thought Amal wasn’t coming.”

“Let’s just say I was being pragmatic. If she didn’t come, Hank wouldn’t come. We’d probably get a lot more work done without entertaining a couple of outsiders.”

“Spoilsport. A slight inconvenience to us, but worth the trouble. Think how much those girls would benefit talking to a young university student like Amal.” She gave an exasperated sigh as she buckled her seat belt. “Not that I intend on driving this thing unless I absolutely have to, show me what I need to know.”