by Laurie Lewis
Long moments passed before Alejandra stood and began writing on the back of a business card. “We have a plane leaving for the Ivory Coast in three hours to carry the pump and supplies for the test.” She handed the card to Olivia. “Do you have a passport?”
Olivia was grateful she had applied for one months ago when Ethan scheduled her for the canceled trip to Turkey. “Yes.”
“Good. Here’s the hangar number. Go home and pack some light work clothes. The temperatures in the inland areas exceed one hundred degrees this time of year. I’ll call our pilot and tell him to wait for you.”
“What about Ethan?”
“I’ll square things with Ethan. Now go. Go!”
Olivia remembered her idea. “I’d like to take something to Mother Thomasine’s orphans.”
“Something small?”
Olivia gestured to illustrate one electronic tablet’s size.
“As long as it’s all right with the pilot.”
She was determined to make it all right with the pilot. She wanted to throw the whole of the Arena Corp money into a fund for the orphanage, but she knew if money were the answer, Hudson would have fully funded the school long ago. Then she remembered Arianna’s presentation and her warning that less was safer than more for the nuns because small gifts were less likely to draw the rebels’ attention. She called a big box store, ordering a modest number, twelve electronic tablets, for the children’s classroom.
“That would be a factory case,” said the ecstatic commissioned sales rep.
“I’m delivering them to a school in the Ivory Coast, so can you also prepare whatever documentation I need for customs? And there’s a two-hundred-dollar tip if you deliver them to hangar three at Teterboro Airport by two o’clock.”
With that task handled, the impact of her pending trip to Africa hit her. What would Hudson think? Each time her nerves weakened her will, she remembered that Hudson had flown across the world for her. Surely he would understand her own gesture of commitment.
She asked the taxi driver to keep the meter running while she packed and changed into jeans and layered tops she could shed once she left New York’s cold. The driver weaved and dodged through the winter slush on the ride to JFK. An unmarked Gulfstream G4 waited on the tarmac in front of hangar three. Two men, one tall African-American and another, shorter man who Olivia assumed were the pilots, were performing a pre-flight check as the taxi pulled up. Olivia paid the driver, and as she exited the cab, the taller pilot extended his hand. “Michael Lath at your service,” he said, with a beautiful African accent tinged with French.
“Thank you for taking me,” said Olivia, as she paid the driver who unloaded her things.
“We thank you,” said the other pilot, in noticeably Australian tones. He offered his hand and said, “Buddy McIntlock. We were scheduled to fly an old cargo plane, but Alejandra upgraded us. I suppose she didn’t want two former military pilots flopping you around in the back for eight hours. Now, let’s get your things loaded, shall we?”
Before Olivia answered, Michael pointed to the carton of tablets. “Alejandra gave me the pump and piping. She didn’t mention any other cargo.”
“It’s a last-minute addition. Can you fit it in?”
“May I see the paperwork?” She handed him the customs documents, and his brow wrinkled as he studied them. “Our final destination is Gagnoa, but we can’t land this jet on the short dirt runways there, so we must transfer to a small Cessna in the morning. It will be a tight fit with that carton.” He shook his head. “And it will draw attention.” Lines formed on his tight brow. “Please board now while I file my flight plan.”
Buddy welcomed her into the luxurious cabin of the Gulfstream and settled her into a buttery soft leather seat fit for a king or a president. “Is this the company’s jet?” she asked, as she squeezed the soft armrests and reclined. “I didn’t see the Bauer Group logo on the side.”
Buddy smiled at her. “It’s one Mr. Bauer uses to fly important guests when we need to arrive—how shall I put this—incognito. I’ll go load your carton now.”
Olivia wondered if the rebels were the reason they needed to be covert. The question plagued her through takeoff, until the rocking rhythm of the Gulfstream lulled her to sleep. When she awoke, she saw nothing but starlight ahead and a vast unforgiving ocean below, signaling that they were still over the Atlantic.
She walked up the aisle to the open cockpit door. Buddy turned and smiled. “Just a few more hours now.”
“When did Hudson Bauer decide to send that case of tablets?” Michael asked.
Olivia sensed the worry in his voice. “He didn’t. I asked Alejandra if I could bring something for the children, and she said it would be all right if it was small and okayed by you.”
Michael’s worried gaze shifted to Buddy. “I believe she meant small like a lollipop.”
Olivia’s arms prickled. “Are these tablets going to cause problems?”
“We will not know until we reach Gagnoa.”
Michael’s final comment hung like a sword over the rest of the flight. Olivia was relieved when things appeared to go smoothly after landing in Bouaké, Ivory Coast. After routine checks of papers and cargo, the three left the airport to spend the night in a hotel, returning at first light to load their luggage and cargo into a Cessna. Three armed men watched them near the hangar.
Olivia hurried up to Michael who was checking the plane. “Those men are carrying guns. Do you think they’re with Safdar?”
“Or someone loyal to him. Nothing passes through these airports without his knowledge.”
“Maybe we should just dump the tablets here. Let them have them.”
“That won’t help us now. The rebels in Gagnoa are likely expecting them to arrive there. This plane and each of us will be searched whether we have them or not.”
Hudson’s conversation about the warning the rebels gave his father echoed in her mind as a chill zipped up her spine. “If they search us, they might find the pump.”
The normally affable Buddy scowled. “We’d best get on our way as soon as possible.”
The relief of takeoff and the peaceful hour-long hop to Gagnoa ended in tension when the satellite phone rang in the cockpit as they prepared to land. Buddy answered the call while Michael landed the plane, leaving a wild plume of dust billowing behind.
Olivia couldn’t hear the phone conversation, but she read Buddy’s lips as he leaned near Michael, his worry evident. “Hudson is coming in person to get the pump. He’s almost here.”
The muscles along Michael’s jaw tensed as he looked toward the local crowd, where several armed men dressed in camo pants and sleeveless shirts began moving toward the taxiing Cessna. Once again, the rebels’ warning replayed in Olivia’s mind. What had Hudson said?
Water frees people. That’s the last things these rebels want …
She and her misguided decision to bring those tablets had drawn the rebels here, making targets of them and their cargo. Now Hudson would also be in danger, as would the prototype pump. Olivia knew Hudson and the entire Sweet Water project were at risk. Because of her. Because, once again, her judgment had been off.
Her breathing became rapid as the armed men closed the distance to the plane. Olivia forced herself to move past her guilt and think. A quick scan of the terrain reminded her of one of Peter Thibodeaux’s stories, giving her an idea. It was hazardous, but it was less risky than the sure danger Hudson would face if he arrived. With her heart pounding, she laid out her plan.
“I caused this danger, but I have an idea. We need to get that pump to Hudson, but we can’t let him be seen by the rebels. Safdar has made him a target, so we need to divert their attention long enough to sneak the pump past them. Michael, if you steer this plane near that brush on the right, Buddy can bail out and hide in there. Then, while the plane taxis back to the terminal building, he can get to Hudson and convince him to head for the test site.”
Michael kept idling down the
runway and away from the airport while Buddy protested.
“And leave you and Michael here to face the rebels alone? No way, ma’am. I’d rather take my chances with the rebels than with Hudson if anything happens to you on our watch.”
“Protecting me won’t save Hudson or the pump.” Buddy grew quiet. The rebels were agitated now and closing fast. With time growing increasingly short, Olivia pressed on. “We just need to convince them that we’re here to deliver those tablets and not pump supplies.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“A little diversion and a scam called the Flimflam. I’ll keep them occupied while you get the pump to Hudson.”
Buddy’s jaw clenched as he dug in on his refusal. Olivia’s hands were shaking as she looked to Michael. “You know it’s the only way to protect us or Hudson or that pump. This situation is all my fault, but I can do this. I need to do this. Please, trust me.”
Michael spent a moment chewing on the side of his mouth before abruptly steering the plane toward the brush, sending the rebels racing across the dirt strip in their direction.
“You can’t go along with this!” Buddy argued to Michael.
“She is right. If Safdar wins now … if he defeats Hudson, the leaders may never have the will to stand up to him again. The rebels will see this fancy American lady as a misguided philanthropist, not a well driller. You go. Keep Hudson away. These are my people. I know what that pump means to them, so I will stay with Olivia and pray that God will smile on each of us.”
The exasperation on Buddy’s face turned to acceptance as he looked at Olivia. “You’re a brave gem of a woman, Liv.”
She forced her lips to still their trembling. “Liv? That’s what Hudson calls me.”
“I know,” he said in his thick Australian drawl. “He talks when he sleeps in-flight.”
The comment sent Olivia’s heart pounding even more. As the plane drew beside the brush, Buddy rolled out the plane’s door and into the cover of the brush. Olivia took his seat as Michael turned the plane back toward the airport. Within fifty yards, the sweat-soaked African rebels caught up to the plane with their guns raised, ordering the passengers to deplane.
Michael slowed the Cessna to a halt, and the rebels threw the doors open, shouting in a French dialect as they gestured for them to step out and onto the tarmac. Olivia understood a few words, but the rebels’ body language and glaring eyes told her all she needed to know. They were angry and dangerous.
Automatic weapons were brandished with fury as they cursed in French. Michael wisely shook his head and touched his ear, pretending not to understand them. The apparent leader of the four-man group began communicating in English. Now Olivia could follow the conversation and eventually play her part.
“Where is the copilot?” demanded the leader. “There were two men in Bouaké.”
“As you can see, he did not complete the last leg of the flight with us.”
The youngest rebel tossed a braid over his shoulder and pressed a gun barrel into Michael’s cheek while the leader snarled, “You think I am a fool? The fuel for that plane was reserved and purchased a week ago using a Bauer Group credit card. You see? Safdar knows everything that happens. Tell me, what have you brought to my country? Safdar has already warned Hudson Bauer about interfering in our affairs. Where is he?”
Olivia leaned back against the plane on jelly-like legs as she wondered that as well. She willed herself not to glance in the direction from which Hudson would be arriving, silently praying that Buddy reached Hudson in time, and that he’d be successful in stopping him from attempting a rescue.
“Where is Hudson Bauer?” the rebel repeated to Michael with a shake of his automatic weapon. “And what equipment have you brought him?”
Something about the rebel’s French dialect reminded Olivia of Peter Thibodeaux, calming her. She needed to pivot the conversation away from Hudson, but how? Crazy or divine inspiration flashed into her mind, telling her to mimic Peter’s inflections and Cajun vocabulary, masking her connection to Hudson Bauer.
Willing her quaking legs to still, she pushed away from the plane and faced the rebel leader. “You are correct,” she said with Cajun intonations. “The plane was chartered from The Bauer Group, but I bought these tablets. I have the receipt to prove that I am the benefactor.”
Confusion and intrigue showed on the man’s face, along with suspicion. Olivia increased the ruse. “We will pay you well for your help in transporting our cargo to its destination.”
The ludicrous comment and her tones seemed to momentarily baffle the rebels. The dread-headed young man let his gun slip as he stared at her. His accomplices smirked while the leader sneered at Olivia. “You no longer have cargo. It is now the property of the Forces Nouvelles de Côte d’Ivoire. I will see our cargo now!”
Ignoring the rubbery condition of her legs, Olivia stood eye-to-eye with the leader as they moved to the cargo door. She ratcheted up her Cajun performance to distance herself from Hudson and the water project. “Perhaps you have heard of my father—Peter Thibodeaux, of New Orleans? I saw a documentary about a local orphan school. The plane and pilot were chartered so we could bring the children these electronic tablets.”
The leader swung his incredulous gaze to each of his men. “They want to help the children!” He laughed in a derisive tone and shoved the gun into Olivia’s side. “Open the box!”
* * *
Hudson Bauer’s gut knotted as he caught sight of a man hiding in the scrub growth along the roadside. “Do you see him?” he asked his driver as they slowed.
Hudson recognized the man who ran into the center of the dirt road and waved his arms, but that recognition brought deeper concerns. As the Jeep drew closer, Hudson called out, “Buddy?” He opened the door and jumped from the vehicle. “What are you doing in the middle of the airport road? Where’s Michael? Is he all right?”
Buddy slouched and diverted his eyes. “We’ve run into a bit of trouble, Hud. There were rebels waiting for us at the airport. I was sent to warn you and hand you this.” He placed the pump and piping in Hudson’s hands before meeting his employer’s eyes. “Liv insisted.”
Hudson’s throat tightened as he dropped the pipes and dug his fingers into Buddy’s shoulders. “Liv? Olivia McAllister is back there? And you left her?” He shoved Buddy to the ground and ran back to the Jeep.
Buddy scrambled to his feet and stood in front, creating a barrier. “Think first, Hud!” His Aussie accent was filled with emotion as he shouted above the rumble of the engine. “All you’ll accomplish by barging in there is to get yourself and them killed. I had the same initial reaction, but Liv changed my mind. She has a plan, and sadly, something she needs to prove to you. But you would know more about that than I, wouldn’t you?”
The steel set of Hudson’s limbs and jaw melted into fear as he remembered the conversation preceding their first and only kiss back at the beach house after rescuing her. He had indicted her about her failures and lack of faith in him. Had he pushed her to this?
Nothing he had ever done, nothing he had planned for the future mattered in that moment. Nothing had meaning without Liv, whom he felt powerless to help. Buddy was right. He would only place her in further danger by rushing in. He felt much as he had that day in the hospital when she threw him out and turned him away. “I can’t just do nothing.” His voice sounded ancient, defeated. “She’s everything to me.”
Buddy placed his hand on Hudson’s shoulder. “You two have a strange way of communicating, because it would seem that’s what she’s trying to tell you as well.”
Without shame, Hudson turned his welling eyes to Buddy.
“Does that surprise you, my friend?” Buddy spoke quietly. “I’ve known for some time that there was someone special out there named Liv, but since you never spoke of her openly, I figured she was someone lost to you. I don’t know why you’re not together, but she put your safety, your life, and your dream ahead of her own security. She ask
ed all of us to trust her. I think we should, but you must decide for yourself.”
Every nerve in his body was firing. He needed to run, to get to Olivia, but his driver had the only weapon available, and it was a pistol—no match against automatic weapons. And then he got an idea.
* * *
Olivia’s hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t release the tape on the carton. The rebel pushed in beside her and produced a knife, which caused her to gasp and shrink back a step.
He laughed. “Did you think I was going to cut you? If I wanted to kill an American, I would have already shot you.”
She took some comfort in his comment, knowing she also needed to keep this man from changing his mind. She swallowed to regain her composure. “Who are you?”
His head shot her way. “No names.”
Their faces were so close she could feel his spittle sprinkle her cheek, but she dared not wipe it away.
He sliced through the tape and rifled through the box, counting and admiring each tablet he pulled from the carton, even mentioning their model number. When he reached the bottom, he shoved the box to the parched ground and called two of the other rebels by name. “Search every inch of this plane.”
His interest in the tablets heartened Olivia, but the rebels were still there brandishing their guns, so she needed to continue the negotiations. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you half the tablets if you let me have the other half for the orphans.”
His bright teeth glowed against his dark skin as he sneered. “I … keep … them … all.” Each word was clipped and exaggerated.
The final moment had arrived, and if all went well, Olivia hoped the rebels searching the plane would be told to stop and the four men would take the tablets and leave. Olivia gave the leader a look of resignation and rounded her shoulders. “You win. Please take them as my gift.” Her conscience couldn’t stop her tongue. “But first, tell me one thing. Why do you fight those who are trying to help your people?”
