While she spread lidocaine on his burns, Obi explained. “Peter is angry. He thinks you belong to all the men. But Jidda told them no other man will touch you besides him. He has taken you as his concubine as your reward for saving his life. Peter told Jidda this is not our way. Women captives are shared and sold, not kept for one man. Then Jidda reminded Peter who is the leader here. He alone answers to the Sky Kings and—”
Obi stopped, his gaze jerking to Kristi’s as if he’d just said too much, his pupils dilated with fear.
Who or what were the Sky Kings?
Kristi pretended not to notice. “Jidda was kind to protect me. You are kind to me, too. How old are you, Obi?”
“I am twelve.”
“How did you come to live with these men?”
“My uncle took me in after my parents were killed.”
“You’re a good young man, Obi.” She took out fresh gauze to bandage his hand once more. “Don’t let them turn you into a criminal.”
His face crumpled. “Don’t tell anyone what I told you.”
“Don’t worry.” She gave him a warm nurse’s smile. “I won’t.”
“You should stay in here for now.” Obi turned and left her alone.
She took off the gloves, stuck them in the duffel bag, and sat on her bed mat.
Women captives are shared and sold.
Now she knew what kind of bandits these were. They were human traffickers who sold women into prostitution. And Jidda was the only person keeping her from that fate.
She hugged her knees to her chest and tried not to cry.
* * *
“The drone stays packedup unless we need it.” Malik stood his ground. “If we fly it over the encampment, there’s too great a risk that they’ll see it or hear it.”
It wasn’t a high-altitude military drone that could fly undetected.
“If they break camp and try to move her?” David wasn’t giving up.
“Then we use the drone to trail them.” Malik shook his head. “You just want to play with your new toy.”
David chuckled. “I’m a patient man. I can wait.”
Malik and David had hit the road an hour after speaking with Shields, the two bodyguards following in one of David’s SUVs. David had passed the intel on to both the NPF and Nigerian Army HQ in Kaduna, and both organizations were waiting for confirmation from David that Kristi truly was at those coordinates.
They passed Kinu Village, Malik taking rutted dirt roads north and then northwest, circling the location of the bandit camp. He parked off the road when the camp was due south of them.
“It’s a five-kilometer hike. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Keep talking, brother. You will eat my dust.”
Malik grinned. “If you say so.”
Malik took out his face paint, and they began to paint their faces in non-glare greens, grays, and blacks, colors that matched their jungle camo. Then it was time to gear up. They shouldered their packs, checked their weapons, and moved south, leaving the vehicles with the bodyguards, David carrying the drone in a bag.
It was an easy hike, but they moved carefully, weapons at the ready. Malik had no idea whether sentries guarded the camp, and he didn’t want to find out by getting a bullet to the brain. It took almost an hour, but they reached the position without being seen. They set up their recon on a densely forested rise about a half kilometer north of the camp, both settling in with scoped sniper rifles to watch the action below.
An hour went by. Two hours. Three.
Sweat trickled down Malik’s temples, insects buzzing around his face.