“No, sir.” Then Mobo’s eyes went wide. “The boy. They must have taken Obi.”
“Who is Obi?”
“Obi is Jidda’s young nephew, sir. Jidda took him in after he was orphaned. He lived with us. The woman cared for Obi’s burns after Peter pushed him into the fire. Obi showed her respect after that.”
Samuel could understand now why Jidda made a deal with this woman. She had saved his life and cared for his nephew. She had apparently also taken this Obi with her.
But Obi didn’t belong to her. He was Jidda’s blood, and that meant the boy belonged to the Sky Kings. His fate was to take up his uncle’s work.
“Is there anything else I need to see, Kalu?”
The hunter shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Gather the weapons. Leave the bodies.” Samuel walked back to the vehicle mulling over what he’d just learned.
Who was the second man? Was he a friend of this American—a military buddy?
No, Samuel didn’t think so. When the woman had been spotted at the airport, she’d been alone with her husband. Either his accomplice traveled separately—or he was still here in Nigeria. Perhaps he was even Nigerian.
Samuel sat in the front passenger seat of the truck, waited for Mobo, Kalu, and the guards to climb into the back. Then he nodded to his driver. “Back to Kaduna.”
He needed to find this second man and the boy—not a simple task when he had no idea what either of them looked like. To find them, he must first find Kristi Chang and her husband Malik Jones.
They’d almost had them in Abuja, but the two had fled in a taxi, their trail disappearing in the market. Samuel had focused on the hotels and car rental places in the city, and that had eventually led them to Gulu, where they’d found the anti-theft device. From there, the trail had gone cold.
But they were out there somewhere, and Samuel would find them. He would get the truth from them about this second man and the boy one way or another. When he did, the Sky Kings would find Samuel worthy. They would shower him with gifts and lift him up. A new house. Maybe a truck. Maybe a position in Lagos or Spain or London.
Samuel could never be one of them—he hadn’t gone to their college—but he would not always be in this lowly state, working with strike groups and dealing with men like Mobo and that accursed Peter. God had better plans for him.
Of this, he was certain.
17
Kristi helped Malik change the tire, then walked to the edge of the bridge and looked across at the other side while he packed up the tools, a giddy sense of relief coming over her. They’d made it this far, facing bad guys, lions, quicksand, and the river. Nothing had stopped them.
That’s when she saw. “There are crocodiles down there.”
He shut the vehicle’s liftgate. “I saw them earlier when I crossed on foot.”
“You didn’t say anything.” She walked back down to the vehicle. “Smart man.”
He met her at the front passenger door, drew her into his arms, held her, his embrace warm and reassuring. “We’ve come this far. With luck, we’ll be in Benin tonight.”
“God, I hope so.”
Malik found a road not too far away from the river. They followed it through one small village after another—Kpada, Rogun, Pategi, Regada, Bongi—sharing childhood stories, telling secrets. He liked Ludacris. She had a soft spot for the Grateful Dead and Green Day. They both likedStar Trek.
“What are your guilty pleasures?” Malik asked. “I know you must have some.”
Kristi thought about it. “Okay, well, I like to lie in bed on my days off and watch Disney cartoons. Does that count?”
“Ah, man, that’s lame. Where’s the shame in that?”
“You want shame?” She thought about it for a moment. “Right before my period starts, I get a wicked craving for Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. I buy a pint and eat the whole thing myself.”
“Women and chocolate. My elder sister, Jasmine, used to keep a stash of period chocolate. God help any stupid younger brother who snuck into her room and got into it.”
“You stole your sister’s period chocolate?”