The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

He’d make sure to use that to his advantage.

Though he’d gone over the plans once with his men, he wanted to make sure there was no confusion. After their failed robbery out in the bush, he knew better than to leave anything to chance. Never before had he encountered anyone like Fargo, the man who’d been driving the truck. The way he’d created the dust screen to hide from view …

If there was one thing Makao admired, it was brilliance. Had Fargo not killed two of his best boys, he’d be far more appreciative of how he’d lost the upper hand in that failed ambush. Typically, he didn’t dwell on collateral damage, but in this case he was taking it personally. His swift loss had made him look like a fool in front of his own men and it took every ounce of his willpower to ignore such a blow and carry on. As much as he relished the idea of personally putting a bullet in the head of the man responsible, that particular joy would have to wait.

Makao had a far more profitable goal. And even though he felt certain they could move in now, patience was the key.

The school was set high on the hillside, open ground surrounded by thick forest. A single winding dirt road leading up to the compound made getting to it without being seen nearly impossible. Yet the relative isolation meant that they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else suddenly showing up. More importantly, he was bringing enough men to ensure that if they were seen, any attempt to stop them would be quickly ended. Sam Fargo may have thwarted their ambush out in the bush, even making off with a couple of his automatic rifles, but with Fargo gone Makao doubted that anyone at the school was about to pull one out and start shooting.

In fact, he was counting on it.

From everything he learned from his inquiries in the village, the school was not officially open yet. The staff was too small to present an obstacle to eight men armed with AK-47s.

“When do we go in?” Jimi asked.

Though he wanted to wait for dark, he needed enough light for their initial entry. “We’ll wait a couple of hours, then hit hard and fast. I don’t want to give anyone time to call for help.”

“What if some of them escape?”

“I doubt it. This is the only road in,” he said, tracing his finger along the map. “If anyone gets past the farm, either direction, they’ll call.”

“What if they go up?”

The possibility always existed, but he doubted anyone would make the attempt. The trek was far too dangerous, especially with young girls. “Only a fool would go that way. These people aren’t fools.” He studied the map one last time and looked up at his men. “Load up. It’s time to go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

No matter how beautiful and well crafted a coffin might look,

it will not make anyone wish for death.

– AFRICAN PROVERB –

The distinct feeling of being watched came over Remi as she sat alone at the staff table in the cafeteria, reading the expense report that Wendy had given her earlier that morning. When she glanced up, she saw Tambara, Jol, and Maryam quickly look away from her, then shyly back.

Tambara elbowed Jol, whispering something, and all three walked over. “Mrs. Fargo?” Jol said, looking to her two friends, who nodded in encouragement. “Miss Wendy said that you’re a great treasure hunter.”

Maryam added, “And that you’ve found gold all over the world.”

“We’ve found a lot of things all over the world,” Remi said as Amal and Nasha walked up to the table, lunch trays in hand.

Jol gave Nasha a pointed look. “You don’t have to wear your backpack everywhere. No one’s going to steal it.”

“I know,” Nasha said, putting her tray on the table next to Remi’s. “I like it.”

Maryam and Tambara giggled, their attention now on Amal as she took the seat on the other side of Nasha. “Are you married?” Maryam asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Amal looked down, her expression bittersweet. “There was somebody. Once.”

Maryam’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

Remi cleared her throat. “Girls …”

“It’s okay,” Amal said. “I think I liked him more than he liked me is all.” She gave a wide smile, looking around. “Aren’t you missing a Musketeer?”