The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

The pair took off, running through the courtyard. When they started yelling and swearing, he gave a quick look toward the office and ran after them into the darkened court. The bleating grew so loud, he couldn’t hear what his men were saying. He didn’t need to. Dozens of goats poured into the yard, some jumping up onto the planters, others darting past him. The ruckus brought his other men running. They stared at first, then suddenly tried to herd the goats, holding their arms wide, attempting to block the animals from going around them.

“You fools,” he said. “What’re you doing?”

“They’re getting away. You said you didn’t want any noise.”

“I meant no shooting.” While there wasn’t much down the hill beside the long, winding dirt road between the school and the main highway, he knew full well that there were plenty of scattered and remote enclaves. Gunshots were bound to be noticed. More importantly, his boss, Tarek, wanted the hostages alive and unharmed.

The goats calmed for a moment until one of them knocked a couple of tin buckets stacked on the edge of a planter to the ground, sending them into a frenzy again. Suspicion grew as he surveyed the chaos and then the buckets, which he didn’t recall seeing before. He grabbed the arm of the nearest man. “If one of you didn’t open that pen, there’s someone else here. How many hostages do we have?”

“Six. Two adults and four girls.”

A flash of memory hit him from when the hostages were lined up against the building, right before they’d moved them all into the office “I saw five girls earlier. One of them’s missing.”

“Why would they let the goats out?”

“A distraction, you idiot.” He pushed him away. “Go find whoever did this.”

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure the rest of our hostages are still there.”

One of the goats brushed up against his leg and he tried to knee it. The creature merely jumped out of the way and trotted out of the courtyard. Cursing, Makao followed it to the front of the compound and feigned lunging at it, watching in satisfaction as it trotted across the drive toward the open gate.

He glanced at the office door, where the light spilled out across the wooden porch onto the gravel. The man he’d posted stood guard, oblivious to his growing unease as he hurried that direction.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

A flea can trouble a lion more than a lion can trouble a flea.

– KENYAN PROVERB –

Two things taunted Remi. The orange-handled scissors jutting up from the penholder on the desk a mere six feet away and the keys to their supply truck, hanging on a hook by the door just over her head. The odds were against her from the beginning, but she wasn’t willing to give up. Nasha, she hoped, would make her way here, get the keys, and … Well, Remi hadn’t yet worked out how they were going to get to the truck. They’d need one heck of a distraction. And until that moment, getting to either the scissors or the keys without being seen by the guard posted outside would be impossible.

Redoubling her effort to loosen the plastic ties binding her hands behind her back did little more than chafe the skin at her wrists. Amal, who was trying to do the same, was so far holding up well. Remi couldn’t help but worry about her since she was the weak link in her plan. If it was stress that triggered Amal’s episodes, then she could have one at any moment. “How’s it going?” she whispered to her.

“No luck.”

Remi looked at the other girls. Tambara and Maryam shook their heads. Jol was clearly attempting to get free. Zara had her head on her knees, undoubtedly worried about the mention of her father’s farm. “Zara,” Remi whispered. “You have to try.”

“What if something happened?”

“Sam will check on your father. I promise. Keep trying,” Remi said, hearing the bleating of the goats coming from the yard. A lot of bleating, she realized.

Maybe the distraction she was hoping for.

Scooting closer to the door, she leaned far enough to see past the threshold between the guard’s legs. Goats everywhere. One hopped up onto the porch, its hooves clopping on the wood. The guard chased it off, momentarily leaving his post.

Didn’t matter how they’d gotten loose, she was going to take advantage of it.

Tucking her legs beneath her, she maneuvered onto her feet and backed toward the desk, keeping her focus out the door, grateful the guard was engrossed in the livestock and not them. A quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the scissors and reached back, linking one pinky through the handle. With one eye out the door, she lifted them from the cup.

A scraping noise from the bathroom alerted her to Nasha’s arrival. Remi looked back to see her little face peering out.

Remi gripped the scissors, then eyed the guard, worried by the sight of Makao cursing the goats as he strode from the courtyard to the drive. Realizing they had very little time, she glanced toward Nasha. “Did you call Sam?”

She nodded.

“What’d he say?”