by Pamela Clare
Malik zipped his duffel bag. “Carry your bags to the door. If you need to use the restroom or get some bottled water, do it now.”
Unanswered questions rushing through her mind, Kristi packed up the clothing and toiletries Malik had bought for her, rolled her bags to the door, and checked the contents of the little backpack she’d used as a handbag here. Her phone was there, but it needed to be charged. Lip balm. A comb. Breath mints. She made a quick stop in the bathroom and then grabbed four bottles of water out of the suite’s refrigerator.
In less than five minutes, she found herself sitting with Obi in the backseat of Malik’s rental, David driving, Malik riding shotgun. Bruno and Idris followed in two SUVs—David’s fancy Mercedes and a Toyota.
David looked over his shoulder at Obi, a broad smile on his face. “You will love my sister. Everybody does. I will come to see you as often as I can. I promise.”
Obi looked miserable. The poor kid had been through so much already. He’d endured the deaths of his parents and months with killers in that camp. He was probably terrified at being shuttled off to a new life where he knew no one. He’d clearly come to idolize David since the rescue, and now he was going to have to say farewell—another loss in his short life.
Kristi tried to reassure him. “I know you’re going to miss David, Obi, and I know it’s scary to go to a new home, but you’re getting a new mother and father. It will be safe, not like the bandit camp. You’ll have food when you’re hungry, people to care for you, and a real bed.”
“My sister makes the world’s greatest jollof.”
Obi reached out, took Kristi’s hand. “You are going away?”
“Yes. I have to go home now. My family is worried about me.”
Obi leaned against her, a pleading look in his eyes. “I beg, don go.”
She hugged him, a hitch in her chest. “I will miss you, Obi. Do you want me to write to you?”
“Yes.”
David seemed pleased by this. “You must learn to read, Obi, so you can read the letters Miss Chang sends you.”
The boy nodded. “I will learn.”
Kristi gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I know you will. One day, you can write letters to me. I would like that.”
Kristi knew Kaduna enough to realize they were heading for one of the city’s more exclusive neighborhoods. They parked in front of a large three-story home, and a woman in a bright red and yellow dress and matching gele, or head wrap, stepped outside.
“You two stay in the car. Someone might recognize you. Obi, come.” David walked with Obi up to the door.
His sister welcomed the boy like a long-lost son, arms outstretched. “Welcome to your new home, Obi. I hope you will be happy here.”
Lump in her throat, Kristi watched as David said goodbye.
“I will visit. I promise. You listen to your new mother and do as she tells you. If you behave and are happy here, she and her husband will adopt you, and I will be your uncle forever. Would you like that?”
A big hand closed over Kristi’s, Malik’s voice soft. “He’s going to be okay, angel. Because of you, he’s got a chance now.”
Kristi blinked back tears. “What did I do?”
“You’re the one who said we should take him with us, remember?”
“Oh. Right.”
Malik frowned. “How’s your head?”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “I’m fine. So much has happened this past week. I’m just having trouble keeping up.”
His phone buzzed. He let go of her hand, drew the phone out of his pocket, and tapped it to read the message, his expression going dark. “Fuck.”
Kristi’s pulse picked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Shields just got back to me. I asked her to send whatever she had on the Sky Kings.” He read Shields’ reply. “‘The Sky Kings started as a confraternity on college campuses but morphed into a criminal organization with international reach. They run heroin from Asia to Europe and the US. They also run major sex-trafficking operations in cities throughout Europe and in Russia and possibly the US. They are known for brutality, torture, and murder. If they were behind Kristi’s abduction…”
His words trailed off.
“If they were behind my abduction… then what?”
Malik looked up from his phone. “Then we need to get the hell out of the country before they come looking for payback.”
Oh, God.
Kristi’s stomach knotted. She’d just been on TV. If any of those Sky Kings had seen her, they would have some idea how to find her.
David opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. “Now we head to the airport. You asked about the Sky Kings. You have kicked the hornet’s nest, my friend.”
Malik held up his phone. “Shields just got back to me. They’re some kind of college fraternity that functions like a cartel.”
“Yes, very much like a cartel.” David started the engine, made a U-turn, the three of them waving to Obi as they drove away. “The men who abducted you must have been one of their strike groups, men who do their dirty work—robbing, trafficking, killing. They live on very little, while the members live like royalty. With any luck, the bastards saw the press conference and believe that the NPF rescued you.”
“If they don’t?” Kristi was afraid she knew the answer.
David met Malik’s gaze, something passing between the two men. “Let’s not worry about that yet.”
This shit was getting real. As much as he trusted David, Malik had questions. “How connected are these bastards?”
“Most of the members live in the southern part of the country in the bigger cities, but their strike groups are everywhere. Members join in college, and they help one another in the business world afterward. They have eyes and ears in the police force, the military, the corporate world, and the government.”
“How do we evade them?”
David merged onto the highway. “The plan is for you to get on a helicopter and fly to Abuja, where you catch a flight out of the country. I will drop you off, return your rental, and drive back to Abuja with Bruno and Idris—and the lovely drone.”
That was a start.
“Are these assholes going to be able to connect you and Obi with us?” Malik didn’t want to put David or the boy in danger.
David turned onto the main expressway, heading north. “I doubt it. I wasn’t at the police station. No one at the bandit camp saw me. The imam won’t talk. The only people who know about my involvement are my contacts in the army and the NPF and the officers who came to the hotel. If they were dirty, we’d be dead already.”
Malik supposed that was true.
David went on. “My name wasn’t on the hotel registry or your rental vehicle. Even if they had my name, all of my property, including my vehicles and aircraft, is owned by a corporation registered in the Cayman Islands. All my family’s property is owned by this corporation, so Obi is also safe.”
“Can’t they just look up who owns the corporation?” Kristi asked.
Malik explained. “Corporate records in the Caymans are private. No one can gain access to that information. The owners have anonymity.”
“Oh. That’s useful.”
David grinned. “In my line of work, I must be cautious, Miss Chang.”
“I believe that.”
Malik looked back at Kristi, saw the worry on her pretty face. She’d been through enough already. “What about the airport? Could they be waiting for us there?”
“Anything is possible.” David slowed the vehicle, stopped, the traffic coming to an abrupt standstill. “Wahala.” Trouble.
“What is it? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.” David called Idris, spoke to him in rapid Naija.
The black SUV ahead of them pulled off the road, and Idris climbed out and strode along the side of the highway toward the source of the traffic jam. “He will find out what is happening.”
“What about the drone?” Kristi ask
ed.
“It would draw too much attention. Besides, it’s in my Mercedes.”
Malik was going to catch hell from Tower about that.
David’s phone buzzed. “Idris says it is a roadblock. Men without uniforms. It could be the Sky Kings, or it could be SARS—the Secret Anti-Robbery Squad. Either way, it’s bad news.”
“What are we going to do?” Kristi’s voice was calm, but Malik sensed her fear.
David dialed a number on his phone. “If we cannot get to the airport, we will bring the airport to us.”
Malik understood what he meant, but Kristi probably didn’t. “The helicopter will pick us up somewhere else.”
David spoke to someone in Yoruba, then sent a text message to Bruno and Idris. “They will escort us to the old, abandoned airfield. The chopper will meet us there. I will park the rental downtown and call the company to retrieve it.”
He made a U-turn and drove back into Kaduna, heading southeast this time. They passed through downtown and reached a run-down industrial area on the outskirts of the city, the sound of a helo passing somewhere overhead. There, inside a broken gate, Malik could see crumbling asphalt—the remnants of old runways. Waiting for them on the tarmac was a bright red Bell 407, its rotors running.
“Do you trust this pilot?” Malik didn’t like the idea of depending on someone he’d never met.
“He, Bruno, Idris and the other staff know that if they betray me, there will be nowhere in the world for them to hide. So, yes, I do.” David parked, and they all climbed out. “This is where we say goodbye for now, friend.”
Malik shook David’s hand. “Thanks, man. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
David chuckled. “That is the truth.”
Kristi gave David a hug. “Thank you, David. Please give Cobra an address where I can safely send letters to Obi. Let him know how much I care about him.”
“You have a good heart. I can see why Malik is mad about you.”
Wait. What?
Okay, so David wasn’t wrong. Malik was mad about her. He was out of his fucking mind over her. How else could he explain the past week?
Kristi kissed David on the cheek. “Please stay safe.”
“You, too. Take care of her, Jones.”
“You know I will.”
Bruno and Idris had already loaded their bags onto the helo, so there was nothing left to do but cross the tarmac and climb aboard.
“Have you ever flown on a helicopter?” Malik hurried with Kristi toward the bird, her hair flying in the rotors’ downwash.
“No.” She didn’t sound excited.
Bent low, he helped her board, climbed in beside her, and buckled his belt. Then he showed her how to wear her earphones and adjust her mic. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded. “Can you hear me?”
He took her hand, held it. “Lima Charlie, angel. Loud and clear.”
As the helo gained altitude, he saw David, Bruno, and Idris driving away. Getting Kristi to safety was entirely on Malik’s shoulders now. They had a long journey ahead of them and a lot of unknowns.
He wouldn’t fail her.
Samuel Kuti walked into the warehouse where the nine survivors from Jidda’s strike group had been taken. He knew the basic story already, thanks to their informant with the NPF. What he didn’t understand was how one man could attack the camp in broad daylight, kill sixteen armed men, and escape unharmed with a woman.
The Sky Kings would want answers. If word got out that one of their camps had been attacked and sixteen of their men killed by an angry husband, they would lose face. That would be bad for business—and bad for Samuel.
Though the Sky Kings could be generous, they weren’t forgiving.
The men sat on the dirt floor, silent, heads bowed, not one of them daring to look him in the eyes. They had arrived last night, all nine of them crowded into Jidda’s old white Toyota and telling the same story. A man had flown a drone into the camp before killing the rest of the men and taking their female captive with him.
Samuel walked down the line and back again. “The first person to tell me how one man got the better of you will live with no punishment. Who will it be?”
No one spoke, nervous sweat beading on the men’s foreheads.
“Can none of you even look me in the eyes like men?” He motioned for Akunna to step forward with the ropes. “Last chance.”
Cowards.
Each one was gambling that he wouldn’t be chosen.
“Take Mobo.”
Mobo’s eyes went wide. “No, sir! No! There is nothing more to tell!”
Akunna and Joshua dragged Mobo to his feet, Joshua holding him while Akunna tied his elbows together behind his back, making sure the ropes were tight enough to cut off Mobo’s circulation. Then Akunna threw the long end of the rope over a beam and hoisted a screaming Mobo off the ground, suspending him there. The technique, called tabay, was excruciating—and effective.
Mobo writhed. “There’s nothing to tell!”
Samuel walked up to him, looked into Mobo’s contorted face. “How could one man kill sixteen of you? Did you not have weapons?”
“Yes! At first, we could not see him, only the drone. It flew through the camp. I’m telling the truth! Please let me down!”
“A drone flew through the camp, and what did you all do?”
“I was surprised! We all stared at it. Some of us shot at it. Then this man started shooting. He shot from the forest. Automatic weapons. Men fell. Jidda. Peter. I ran. I hid. I beg you! Don’t do this to me!”
“A drone came out of nowhere. You stood there like idiots, not realizing that an attack was coming. Then, when the bullets began to fly, you ran?”
“Yes. Yes! I was afraid!”
“Did Jidda not give you orders to follow? Did you disobey him?”
“He was the first to die. Then Peter.”
That explained some of it. Men were like sheep without a leader.
“You said the drone came first and then the bullets. What did Jidda command you to do when he saw the drone?”
“I … I didn’t hear!”
That split second of hesitation gave Mobo away.
Samuel turned to Akunna and Joshua. “It’s cold in here, don’t you think? Let’s light a fire beneath Mobo to keep him warm.”
“No!” Mobo screamed, kicked. “I’m telling you the truth!”
“I don’t believe you.” Samuel stood back, ignoring Mobo’s pleas as Akunna piled up kindling and bits of wood beneath Mobo and ignited it with a lighter.
“Peter killed Jidda! Peter killed Jidda!” Mobo shouted the words, then lapsed into screaming.
Samuel had to laugh. The fire hadn’t harmed Mobo yet, and still he carried on as if he were being butchered. “Why would Peter kill Jidda?”
“For the woman! Peter wanted her. Jidda would not share. I told you everything! Put the fire out!”
Samuel nodded to Akunna, who kicked dirt over the flames. “Jidda wanted to keep this woman for himself, and Peter shot him to take her.”
“Yes. Yes!” Mobo’s tongue had been loosened, and the entire story poured out. “She made Jidda promise to let her go if she healed him. Jidda wouldn’t let her go, but he protected her. He would not share her. Peter and the others planned it. Peter shot him in the back and dragged the woman toward the hut to have his way. Then the drone came.”
Samuel worked through Mobo’s gibberish. Jidda had made a deal with the nurse—her help in exchange for freedom. Of course, Jidda couldn’t let her go, but he’d done the best he could by claiming her and protecting her from the others. He’d kept his word as best he could. Peter, who had always been jealous of Jidda, had shot him in the back. The woman’s husband had clearly taken advantage of the confusion to distract them with the drone—and then attack.
Then something hit Samuel. “You said ‘others’? Did others help Peter?”
“Others planned it with him.”
Samuel got right in Mobo’s fac
e. “Which others? Are any of them here?”
“Yes! Yes!” Mobo looked up. “Uvo. Chibunna. Everyone else was killed.”
Leaders were chosen by the Sky Kings, not by Samuel or the men who served beneath him. Loyalty was an absolute. Betraying one’s leader meant death.
“Were you one of these conspirators, Mobo?”
Mobo writhed. “No! I had just come back with firewood.”
“Take him down.” Samuel walked over to Uvo, who sat trembling in the dirt. “Is this true? Did you conspire with Peter to kill your leader over a woman?”
Uvo looked up at him, the truth mingled with terror on his face. Then Chibunna jumped to his feet and bolted for the door.
Joshua stopped him, threw him to the dirt.
“Peter got what he deserved, and now you will, too.” Samuel turned to Akunna. “Kill them.”
But what was Samuel going to do about this woman and her husband?
Oh, he didn’t care about the woman, not really. Jidda had made her a promise, and Samuel could respect that. But her husband—that was another story. Samuel needed to find him and take him to Lagos, where the Sky Kings would make him pay in blood.
11
Kristi walked with Malik across the tarmac toward the terminal, rolling her bags alongside her. “That was actually nicer than flying in a plane.”
“It’s not always that smooth.” He glanced up from his phone, a lopsided grin on his face, duffel bag on his back like a backpack. “Helicopters like to crash.”
“You tell me this now?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
She had to ask. “Have you ever been in a helicopter crash?”
“Twice.”
“Twice?” Good grief! “And you’re brave enough to climb aboard anyway?”
He seemed to find this funny. “Risk goes with the job.”
He stopped walking, his attention back on his smartphone.
“Are you checking in with Shields?” Kristi hoped one day she got to meet this woman who had done so much to help her.
“Yeah. Also, I bought two plane tickets to Cairo with Cobra’s credit card. Tower can chew my ass off when we get home. I’ll pay them back. I just want to keep my name off the transaction.”
