“Why?”
“I don’t want to get hurt. I’ve watched marriages end. I’ve seen kids rebel and leave home. Friends have lied to me and betrayed me. Relationships are risky—and you know that, too. I’ve accused you of being distant, but it was the pot calling the kettle black.”
Cole gave a tired laugh.
“It’s true,” Jill said. “I’ve always been wary. And then…you came barging into my classroom and ordered me to go with you to Amarillo.”
“Ordered you?”
“Yes, you did. And once I let you in, I started to like you. And admire you. And care about you.”
“And love me?”
Startled, she glanced up. His eyes were depthless. “I can’t imagine my life without you,” she said.
“I love you, Jill Pruitt.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Here on a bus in Southern Sudan, I love you. And I think…I believe that back in New Mexico on my ranch, I’m still going to love you.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“Okay, what?”
“I love you, too.” Her voice shuddered with the emotion of speaking words she held so dear. “Here on the bus, I mean. And probably…I expect…I imagine that back in New Mexico in my house, I’m still going to love you.”
“It’s enough, Jill. It’s enough for me to know you feel this way now. I still have to work things out with Penny, but I’ve known for a long time what I need to do. I see God’s path in front of me, and I want to walk it, Jill. I want to walk it with you. When we get back—” he kissed her hand again “—if we get back, we’ll take the first steps together.”
Jill leaned her head on Cole’s shoulder and let the tears fall. She was so happy and so miserable and so scared. It was all too much, and she had a terrible fear that this fragile thread of love between them would snap. Danger, loss, pain, even guilt—any of these might sever the thread. They hadn’t had time to weave a thick cord that could bind them together through everything that would pull at them. They had known each other such a short time, and their love had been spun on the unstable loom of this strange pursuit.
Jill nestled against Cole and drank in this moment of union between them. He wrapped his arm around her and brushed his lips across her forehead. She lifted her head and kissed his cheek. For now, this would have to be enough.
As the bus rolled into Rumbek, the sun was settling into the tops of the thorny acacia trees surrounding a collection of thatched huts and white tents. Cole searched the clearing, hoping to see Matt. The barren ground was deserted except for a few people gathered around a fire.
“Why have they lit a fire in this heat?” Cole asked Jill as they waited their turn to step down from the bus.
“Roasting peanuts, I imagine.”
Cole groaned. Though he and Jill carried some packaged cookies and fresh bread from Khartoum, they had run out long before the train station at Wau. Expecting to replenish their supplies, they had discovered that roasted peanuts were the only food available. In fact, at every station and bus stop, only peanuts awaited them, and the price rose as they journeyed south.
“Do you see Matt and Billy?” Jill asked, peering over his shoulder. “I don’t see them.”
“They’re not out in the open.” He climbed down from the old bus and started toward the fire.
“Wait, Cole!” Jill caught his arm. “What’s that sound?”
He glanced upward, recognizing the distinct thunk-thunk of helicopter blades.
“Sounds like a chopper. I wonder if—”
“Oh, look, there’s the relief center! Maybe the boys are in there with Josiah.”
They hurried hand in hand toward the small block building. Cole’s heart clenched. Please, God, please let Matt be here. Please let him be safe!
He hammered on the door. “Josiah Karume? Are you in there? Matt?”
“It’s my dad!” The voice was filled with disbelief.
Cole threw open the door as his son barreled into his arms. “Matt!”
“Dad!” Matt hugged him hard, jumping up and down. “Dad, you came! And, Miss Pruitt—whoa!”
“Miss Pruitt!” Billy threw his arms around her. “Awesome! Hey, Mr. Strong!”
As Billy pumped Cole’s hand, a cloud of dust blew over them. Squinting, Cole turned to see the helicopter setting down in the clearing. He pushed the boys and Jill back inside the building and shut the door against the whirlwind.
“Dad, this is Mr. Karume,” Matt said, hauling his father across the room to where a distinguished-looking African man worked at a small laptop computer on his desk. “Mr. Karume, I want you to meet my father, Cole Strong.”
“Welcome to Rumbek, Mr. Strong.” The African stood and held out his hand. “Your son and his friends arrived not fifteen minutes before you. We were just discussing his journey. How did you come this way, also? And Miss Pruitt—is it you?”
“Josiah!” Jill grasped the man’s hand. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Caught up in the joy of finding Matt safe and healthy, Cole struggled to hold back tears as his son beckoned him to the desk in a corner of the room. “Look, Dad, Mr. Karume has the greatest laptop. He’s got new software and a USB port, so we plugged in the key. And it works! All the information is on there! I was afraid that with everything it had been through—airport scanners and that trip to Mexico and then on the way to Sudan we had to—Dad, are you hurt? Miss Pruitt said you were in a wreck in Juarez.”
Cole held up his bandaged fingers. “I’ll live, Matt, did you really have to—”
“Yeah, Dad, I had to come here, because Mr. Banyon was planning to give the USB key to Mr. Karume, and I had to finish the job after he…after they…”
“We’ve been eating peanuts ever since we got to Africa,” Billy cut in. “And they have this nasty sorghum junk that—”
“Well, well, well!” The office door opened to a middle-aged American in a business suit. “Josiah, great to see you!”
“Vince Grant?” Karume stepped around the desk to greet the man. “This is a great honor indeed.”
Startled at the intrusion, Cole slipped one arm around his son and the other around Jill. A Sudanese guard shouldering an Uzi joined the businessman, and another man stepped into the room beside them. He and the two who waited behind him wore shirts emblazoned with a familiar logo. Agrimax.
“It is my pleasure to introduce Mr. Vince Grant,” Karume announced, turning to Cole and the others. “Mr. Grant is the chief executive officer of Agrimax—”
“Agrimax!” Matt made a dive for the laptop.
“Stop him,” Grant barked. To Cole’s horror, he grabbed the Uzi from the African guard and trained it on Matt. “Back off, boy! Don’t touch that computer!”
Cole jerked his pistol from his belt and took aim at the executive. “Put down your gun, Grant.”
“You’re way outnumbered, Strong, and your son’s in my sights. Harwood, get the key.”
“Please, Mr. Grant,” Karume spoke up, raising his hands to halt all movement in the room. “Tell me what is happening here.”
“It’s the USB key, Mr. Karume,” Matt called out. “It’s what I was showing you. Agrimax has been developing secret technologies—things that could harm crops and destroy pure genetic stock. And there’s some kind of plan on the key. It’s a scheme to buy out other companies and merge—”
“Quiet, boy!” Grant yelled, brandishing the Uzi.
“Matthew, get over here!” Cole barked.
“He wants to build a monopoly, Mr. Karume!” Matt kept talking, the words pouring out of him. “He wants to dominate the global food supply. He wants the power to control the world. Mr. Banyon told me about the plan before they shot him!”
“Control the world,” Grant scoffed. “It’s all nonsense, Karume. You know my reputation. I’ve worked with I-FEED for years. I’ve provided countless shipments of food and—”
“It’s just a ploy to get good PR!” Matt hollered.
“What do you know about
anything?” Grant snarled. “You’re just a kid. Just a stupid boy! Step away from that computer now, before you get hurt.”
“I’m not leaving the USB key. You can’t have it!”
“Matthew, come here!” Cole grabbed his son’s arm, but Matt clutched the desk.
“No way, Dad. I brought the key here, and Mr. Karume is going to show the world what Agrimax is doing. This is why I came. This is what God wants!”
“Please, please—everybody.” Karume stepped to the center of the room, blocking Matt from the Uzi. “Mr. Grant, put down the weapon, I beg you. And, Matt, go with your father. We must sort this out in a civilized way.”
“The boy stole the information on that key,” Grant said, talking down the barrel of the Uzi. “Karume, hand it to me.”
“Mr. Grant, please. I must understand why the young man has taken such trouble to bring me the USB key. And why have you traveled all the way to Sudan? Surely this tells me the information is significant.”
“It’s significant, all right. It contains Agrimax’s confidential plans and technologies—information this boy pirated from our computer system.”
“That’s not true,” Matt said. “Mr. Banyon copied the data onto the USB key. And you killed him because of it. You murdered him.”
Grant ignored Matt. “This information cannot go public—”
“Yeah, because it would destroy Agrimax!” Matt blurted. “You know it!”
“Karume, I have the power to make or break you.” Grant continued speaking to the I-FEED director. “You understand how things work in this business. Give me that key, and I’ll see that you never want for anything.”
“You’re trying to bribe him!” Jill cried out. “How can you do that?”
Grant smiled, his expression humorless. “Mr. Karume knows how things work in the Third World. Nothing gets done without money under the table. Nothing happens unless you know the right people. Karume, you work with warlords and chieftains, don’t you? You understand that for people to eat, palms have to be greased.”
“Josiah’s a Christian!” Jill retorted. “He would never accept a bribe.”
“Christians don’t engage in bribery? Then tell me how you got to Rumbek.” He paused for effect. “We heard about your escape from the hotel, Miss Pruit. You and Mr. Strong didn’t have legal paperwork to be roaming around in Sudan. Somebody helped you get your visas. Somebody took bribes on your behalf. So don’t try to goody-two-shoes me, lady.”
“And yet you are wrong on one matter, Mr. Grant,” Karume said. “I never bow to coercion. It is true that I have learned to work with governments, warlords, tribal chiefs—and even a company as difficult as Agrimax. But Miss Pruitt is correct in her estimation of the strength of my faith. I am a Christian, and thus I must act with integrity.”
“Integrity demands that you turn over my property.”
“Yes, yes. Put down the weapon, and I shall assess the information on the computer. If I judge it to be of value to the relief work here in Africa and around the world, I shall make use of it as I see fit. If not, I shall return it to you.”
Breathing hard, Cole hadn’t let go of his son’s arm. But the boy refused to budge from the desk. “Do as I say, Matthew,” he insisted. “Come over here!”
“Dad, help me get the key out of the laptop!”
“Don’t lay a finger on that laptop,” Grant snarled. “No one touches the USB key!”
He leaned to shove Karume out of the way, and Cole lunged for the laptop. As his fingers touched the keyboard, the screen exploded in a hail of bullets.
Dropping to the concrete floor, Cole grabbed Matt’s tie and yanked him down. The boy fell in a tangle of cords.
Amid shouts and screams, another spray of gunfire erupted. Chunks of concrete wall dropped to the floor. The pop-pop-pop deafened Cole. He struggled to cover his son.
The computer sparked and burst into flames. An acrid odor filled the air. Windowpanes shattered, charts fell from the walls, chairs tumbled over and splintered. A cloud of chalky dust fogged the room.
Cole shoved Matt into the desk’s kneehole. The boy had gone limp—with fear? Or was he injured? Someone coughed, and then an eerie silence descended.
A groan led Cole’s focus to the corner, where Jill slumped against the wall. One sandal had come off. Her head hung low. A blossom of blood darkened her green scarf.
Cole felt cold fear surge through him. Had God brought them together only to let death snatch her away now? He cocked his pistol. Dear Lord, don’t let Jill die. I love her. Please don’t let her be dead!
“Is the laptop destroyed?” a voice asked. “Get what’s left of the key, Harwood.”
“It’s melted, sir. It’s a lump of plastic.”
Cole heard the voice just overhead. Vince Grant. He crouched low behind the desk, his muscles tensing.
“Are you, uh…planning to contact someone about the injuries, sir?” The voice of Grant’s flunky. “This I-FEED guy is pretty bad off.”
“Are you suggesting we transport these people to a hospital, Harwood? Save their lives so they can testify against us?”
“Sir, I just don’t believe it’s right to—”
“I don’t believe you, Harwood!” Gunfire again shattered the room. The man’s body toppled backward onto the desk, his head dangling over the edge where Matt was hiding.
Cole tried to think. The helicopter. Yes, that was how they could get everyone out. Karume was injured. Jill lay bleeding in the corner. And where was Billy?
“You men, get the chopper going,” Grant barked. “Ali, help me gather up this computer mess.”
As the door slammed shut, Grant’s arm with its gray sleeve and clean white shirt cuff appeared at the top of the desk. Cole reached up and clamped his fingers around the man’s wrist. Leaping to his feet, he jammed his pistol against Grant’s forehead.
“Drop your weapon!” he roared. “Drop it!”
“You fool!” Grant raised the Uzi. Bullets peppered the wall as he swung the submachine gun toward Cole.
Cole squeezed the trigger of his pistol. Click. Nothing happened.
Grant reared away, trying to aim the Uzi at Cole. Still holding the man’s wrist, Cole flipped the pistol around and slammed the butt end into Grant’s temple.
As Grant staggered backward, Cole jumped the desk and threw himself at the businessman. Again, he smashed the handgun against Grant’s head. The Uzi skidded across the floor.
“Stay away from my boy!” Cole shouted, struggling to pin the writhing man’s arms. “Leave my family alone!”
Grant freed one arm, shoved Cole against a filing cabinet, and leaped for the Uzi. Cole straightened in time to see a dark hand snatch the Uzi first. A line of red dots erupted across Grant’s chest. He jerked violently for a moment, and then he fell still.
“What?” Cole looked up in confusion.
Ali stood over him, the Uzi cradled in his arms. “I am Sudanese,” he said simply. “This man tried to prevent the other one from feeding my people.”
Cole glanced at Josiah Karume, who lay moaning on the floor, his body riddled with bullets. Then he turned to Jill. She was bent over, holding her head. He leaped to his feet. Folding her in his arms, he held her close. “Jill, are you all right?”
“It’s a scratch,” she sobbed. “I’m okay, but…”
“Thank You, Lord.”
“Oh, Cole. Everybody’s hurt.” She squeezed his shirt-sleeves. “Josiah. He’s bleeding a lot!”
The next minutes were a blur as Cole and Jill worked their way around the room. Matt was shaken but unharmed. Billy had a bloody contusion from throwing himself to the floor and hitting his forehead on a metal file cabinet. Josiah Karume’s injuries were the most severe—three bullet wounds, one of which had cut through his abdomen and another through his arm. He was groggy, groaning in pain. Cole used Matt’s tie to form a makeshift tourniquet for the arm wound.
In the camp, chaos reigned. At the sound of gunfire inside the I-FEED comma
nd center, armed refugees had poured from huts and tents. They tied up the Agrimax security team and then rushed the small office. Amid shouts, shoving and a hundred random commands called from every direction, Cole managed to see that Josiah Karume was carried onto the helicopter. Jill, Matt and Billy climbed in behind him. Finally, Cole jumped aboard.
The Sudanese pilot had been apprehended along with the Agrimax men. After his release, he decided to make a thorough check of the helicopter—which had been swarmed by countless refugee children during his brief captivity.
While the pilot examined the helicopter’s frame, wheels, tail pylon and stabilizer, Cole checked Jill’s injury. A bullet had grazed her scalp and caused profuse bleeding. She shuddered as he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek.
“We could have been killed,” she sobbed. “Any of us. And two people died.”
“Grant got what he deserved,” Matt said with uncharacteristic venom as he blotted the contusion on Billy’s forehead. “He tried to shoot my dad, and he killed one of his own guys. He’s the one who ordered his men to murder Mr. Banyon.”
“Yes, but what was it all for?” Jill leaned on Cole’s shoulder. “He destroyed the USB key.”
“He trashed it,” Matt said. “We lost everything.”
“Come here, son.” Cole pulled the boy into a bear hug. “The important thing is that you’re alive. You scared us to death.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Matt gave up the battle to hold in his tears. “I didn’t think you would come after me, and I never thought people would get killed. It was for nothing. Now Agrimax will go on doing terrible things, and people will keep starving. Nothing changed. I don’t know why God let it happen.”
“But things have changed, Matt,” Cole said. “A lot has changed.”
“Yeah,” Billy said. Till now, he had been unusually quiet. “Like you and Miss Pruitt are all…like, kissing and hugging.”
Fatal Harvest Page 29
