Dangerous in Transit

by Sidney Bristol

  She wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed. She’d trusted Felix, and he’d betrayed her. If she lost her mom like this, when she could have been at her bedside, she’d never want o see him again.

  “Car’s this way.” Felix gestured at a narrow path between the tents. “Odion pulled some strings, got us enough supplies.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Felix didn’t say another word. He led her to the car, Odion standing by. She gave the man the phone, but couldn’t bring herself to speak. Instead she climbed into the passenger side of the car and stared straight ahead.

  She’d always known her mother would die, and it wouldn’t be pretty or kind. But in her head, she’d be there for it. To hold her hand while she took her last breath, to tell her she wasn’t alone, and she’d been loved. Jeff had never been close with Mom. He’d preferred Dad. To think that Mom could still pass alone, in full knowledge of what she’d done to herself, the mistakes she’d made and paid for a hundred times over. It was the worst thing Jackie could think of for the woman who had inspired her to always do what she believed in. Before the affairs, before the pills, it was Mom who’d set her on this path. Taught her to be kind to others.

  And then people like Zeina Razqa shit all over the goodness in the world with their greed. What was the point of it anymore?

  16.

  Monday. PPM Headquarters, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  The driver wound through the streets. What would have been a fifteen-minute drive days ago was creeping past an hour of wasted time. At this rate, she was going to strangle Samba with her own hands.

  Zeina frowned at her phone. That was not a name she was expecting to hear from right now. It was still early on the west cost of America. For all she knew, Davis was doing something and her source in the corporate office was getting a front row seat to the next disaster she’d have to manage.

  “Yes?” She pressed the device to her face and glanced at Lemine. He didn’t speak English, which in these moments was a blessing.

  “Shit has hit the fan,” the man on the other end whispered.

  “What do you mean?” She smiled, forcing a pleasant tone. Lemine might agree to her proposition, but he was not her man. She could not trust him to know anything.

  “Why didn’t you warn me about the demand call?”

  “I’m sorry?” Zeina’s vision unfocused and her mouth went dry.

  “At like four in the morning Jim Davis got a call from your guy saying he has his daughter, do all this shit for me or I kill her. Then—guess what? Jackie calls. Says she’s safe, has never been captured, and is currently driving out of the country.”

  “Where?”

  “She’s headed south somewhere.”

  “Let me get this straight, my friend called your boss, told him he had something he didn’t, and shortly thereafter it was discovered he was lying?” Zeina pressed her nails into the heel of her hand.

  “Correct.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  She hung up the phone.

  Lemine stared at the side of her face. No doubt her expression and tone clashing had given her away.

  “Did something happen?” he asked.

  “Nothing that concerns you. It’s a matter of business.” She stared out the window at the war-ravaged city that so recently had boasted a thriving market.

  This, none of it, was according to the plan.

  First, losing Jackie meant this urban war was dragging out, destroying much of the city Samba hoped to rule.

  Now, the people were fleeing, and they were drawing too much attention to their next move. And at every turn Samba refused to heed her warning.

  It was as if Samba didn’t want to be president at all. A man couldn’t take the country and his word be worthless. This wouldn’t do, but she couldn’t change the past. Her choice was, did she continue to support Samba, or did she switch allegiances to Papis?

  She scrolled through her contacts to a particularly resourceful mercenary captain and hit call.

  Her priorities hadn’t changed. She wanted the mining rights to the two new locations—and control of the Davis mines. This, what was happening in the city, was as the Americans would say, a dumpster fire. Whoever came out on top was still a loser in the eyes of the world. It would take years of rebuilding to make this right. And all for what?

  “Yes, ma’am,” a man yelled over the rumble of engines.

  “Are you still on the south wall blockade?” she asked in English.

  “We are.”

  “I need you to head south. As fast as you can. The American girl we’re looking for is on the road somewhere. I can’t afford for her to leave the country. Understood?”

  “We just got word about a pair of Americans spotted near the hospital tents. I’ve got a few guys following up on that right now.”

  “I need that woman. Alive.”

  “Copy that. We’ll get our off-road vehicles fueled up and go after her.”

  “Check in with me every hour.”

  She hung up and made the same call to two other contacts. Yes, this was pulling men and resources from Samba’s line of defense, but he’d made it clear where his priorities were. If he wouldn’t listen to reason, she wasn’t giving him her full support.

  “Something has happened,” Lemine said to her.

  “Yes, it has. Your boss is an idiot that won’t listen to reason.” She sighed and tapped out a few texts, issuing orders to her people.

  With any luck, she would have Jackie Davis in custody by sunset, and then she had to make the painful choice of who to back in all of this. Since no one had heard from the president, it was safe to assume he was dead and his guard fleeing for their lives. Which meant she was left with Samba or Papis. It wasn’t the best decision of her life, but she’d had worse and still come out on top.

  Monday. South of Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Felix kept his eyes on the road, following the line of cars headed away from the city. The southbound lane was lined with vehicles that had broken down or run out of gas, some abandoned, some with people still in them hoping for a miracle. Some more daring motorists used the north bound lane to zip past.

  He’d considered joining them, but at what risk? All it would take was for one vehicle to be aimed north, an ill-timed jerk of the wheel, and they were either dead or sitting ducks, unless he commandeered a vehicle by force.

  Jackie wouldn’t like that. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that she wouldn’t get out of the car and walk if he slowed down enough.

  Three hours of silence, broken only by the crackling radio. She’d at least explained during the first hour that with most of the city out, there were no radio or TV stations to broadcast because they were all in the capital city. Still, every so often he twisted the dial, hunting for something to fill the air.

  They should be nearing the airport in St. Louis, Senegal. At normal cruising speed, it should only take four hours, but at their creeping pace they’d be lucky to get there for a red eye flight—if that. At this slow of a pace, he wasn’t sure their fuel would hold out. Which meant stopping to fuel up, and any time spent out of the car was a risk. And not just from the PPM forces. They were targets of opportunity, foreigners present during a time of tribulation.

  “Are we really just not going to talk this whole drive?” Jackie turned her face, partially shrouded by her bangs and the scarf. Her eyes stabbed at him though and they struck deep.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me,” he said in earnest.

  “How could you think that not telling me was a good idea?” She twisted to face him, something he couldn’t do.

  “It wasn’t my call to make. That was Kyle’s order.”

  “Fuck Kyle. You’re the one I trusted.” She leaned forward and prodded him in the shoulder.

  “I know that, Jackie, and I questioned his judgment, too. I told him I thought this was a bad idea.”

  “Then why not tell me?”r />
  “Because, now I think he was right.” He braced himself, not sure how she’d react.

  “What?” Jackie gaped at him, mouth open, eyes wide, shock and hurt radiating off her.

  “Look at you right now. You’re crying, emotional and panicked on top of that. In your current state, you aren’t going to react fast or be present in the moment when we need to act. Panic doesn’t lead to making good choices. Do I hate myself for not telling you? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes.”

  “We could have gotten out faster.”

  “Really? By the time we got you in our custody, flights out of the city had stopped. The roads out were blocked by the night time patrols. Our only course of action was to shelter in place or return to where we knew we could protect your team. After that, we’ve been in reactionary mode. They find us, we run. We make a decision to try to get closer to leaving the country, they block it.”

  “There’s something we could have done differently.” She turned to stare out the window, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Really? Where? What? If you see something, tell me. Because so far I can’t see anything we could have done better except maybe get more intel out of Lemine?” Felix had gone over it all enough that he felt confident saying that. Apart from bringing a bigger team in with them and knowing ahead of time how Jackie played into the bigger picture, the rest was the best they could do.

  Jackie didn’t say anything. She didn’t offer her opinion or further commentary, just stared out of the window.

  He was losing her, and he knew it. He’d known that first night that waiting to tell her was a bad idea, regardless of how it would affect her ability to keep up and follow orders, but he’d bowed to Kyle’s decision as team leader.

  “When my cousin died, I wasn’t at home. I’d gone for some elective training because I couldn’t sit around and watch him waste away. I knew the end was coming, but...I couldn’t handle it. So I left. I was out on the course when he passed and didn’t find out until the next morning. They had to hold the funeral so I could make it. That has been one of my biggest regrets. I wasn’t there for my cousin, my parents, our family. And I should have been. I look at what’s going on with your mom, how she doesn’t have long, and I don’t want you to have to live with that same weight on your shoulders. If there was anything we could have done to get you out faster, I’d have done it.”

  “There has to be something.” Her voice broke, the sharp sounds stabbing him in the heart.

  “Short of time travel, I don’t think so. We even looked at getting a boat, but they’ve got so many pirates out trying to catch people escaping that way it’d be more dangerous than going on foot.”

  “And all those times you told me it was going to be okay? You knew it wasn’t. You knew what I was going home to.” Jackie turned her head and stared at him, her eyes boring into the side of his head.

  A bit of movement in his rearview mirror snagged his attention. He watched a high-powered dune buggy swerve around vehicles parked along the road, sending up plumes of smoke.

  “Hold that thought.” He checked his other mirror.

  A similar, black vehicle zipped along in the left lane.

  There were no markings, no identifying symbols, but his gut said these guys were bad news.

  There was a point where the road divided ahead. Most of the traffic appeared to be going right while they would continue to follow the N2 into Senegal.

  “Hang on.” Felix shifted and merged into the left lane, accelerating fast enough to pass the two vehicles ahead of him.

  This far away from the city, there was enough traffic to make the left lane treacherous.

  “What are you doing? Look out!” Jackie clutched the arm rest.

  Felix swerved onto the shoulder, allowing a north bound vehicle to pass.

  “Two vehicles behind us. I don’t like them.” He’d wondered how long until they saw someone patrolling the roads.

  “Hang on.” Felix merged back into the south bound lane and took the split for the N2 south.

  The traffic thinned out immediately, with most headed to other locales in the south of the country near the coast.

  “They’re still following us,” Jackie said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Get down. Cover yourself.”

  If he appeared to be a person driving alone, he might fare better. Being painfully white, he’d stick out no matter what if he were stopped.

  Jackie slithered into the floor board and hunched down, making herself as small as possible. He tucked the ends of the head wrap thing she’d put on him into the collar of his man-dress in the hopes it would disguise his profile.

  The dune buggy contraption pulled even with them. A man in the back seat leveled his rifle at Felix. These guys were looking for them. It was the way they zeroed in on this car when they’d passed the others.

  “Hold on,” Felix said.

  He slammed his foot on the accelerator and swerved in front of the other vehicle.

  “Did they see me?” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t think they had to.”

  Something pinged off the back of the car and Felix flinched.

  “Did they just shoot at us?” Jackie stared up at him.

  “Yeah, warning shot.”

  “Give me the gun.” Jackie crawled up into the seat.

  “Jackie—no!”

  She grabbed his sidearm before he could stop her. He couldn’t snatch it back, he needed both hands to drive.

  Jackie rolled down the window, wind whipping into the vehicle.

  The dune buggy swerved, but that didn’t deter her. She fired three rounds before flopping back into her seat.

  “Okay—that was a bad idea,” she said over the wind.

  “Have you ever fired a rifle before?”

  “A few times.”

  The other all-terrain vehicle was right on their bumper. It was so close he couldn’t see the vehicle’s lights.

  A flash of muzzle fire was the only warning before the back window shattered, spraying them with shards of glass.

  “Get down,” Felix snapped.

  The road went on forever, a thin ribbon of asphalt through the desert. There was nowhere to go, no offshoot of a road to lose these guys on. If they kept going, eventually someone would crash. The mercenaries in the other vehicles were already proving that they’d shoot on sight, so they didn’t care about bringing them in unhurt. They needed Jackie alive, but Felix? He might end up a smear on the pavement. He had two choices, keep going until they couldn’t or stop and give up.

  Two flashes of light followed by loud pops made his stomach plummet to the floorboard.

  “What was that?” Jackie’s voice was high, thin and breakable.

  “They got the back tires.” Felix gripped the wheel and swerved left again, barely missing oncoming traffic. The car wobbled, and the engine whined.

  He eased off the accelerator.

  “What are you doing?” Jackie demanded.

  “Saving your life.” He eased the car to a stop.

  “No. Keep going.” Jackie grabbed his arm.

  “We keep going, they keep shooting. They force us off the road or run us into the ground. Other people could get hit by stray bullets, either of us could die. They could kill someone else driving south. Is that what you want? Is it?”

  “No,” she whispered, staring at him with those big brown eyes of hers.

  The way he saw it, his responsibility was protecting Jackie’s life. The PPM guys wouldn’t hurt her. They needed her. His best chance at surviving this and getting her back was to not resist. Aegis Group knew a lot of mercenaries. These guys were basically just like him, paid to do a job. He could hope they would understand and not kill him on the spot.

  “Felix...”

  Half a dozen men armed with guns and dressed in solid black surrounded the beat up, four seater car.

  “It’s all going to be okay, Jackie.”

  “I really don’t believe you right now.”

&nbs
p; A man yanked the driver’s door open and a moment later hauled Felix out. He squinted into the sunlight, sand raining down on them, and kept his hands up.

  “It’s her,” someone yelled from the other side.

  “Don’t fight back, Jackie,” he yelled.

  “Don’t speak,” the closest man snapped.

  “We can work this out,” Felix said.

  The man swung a baton, cracking Felix upside the head, followed by a hard punch to his gut.

  This was going great.

  “No! Don’t! Felix!” Jackie’s shrill voice was the only thing he heard besides the zip of cars.

  Another hard blow to his head sent him to his knees. He opened his mouth to tell Jackie he’d had worse, but his words were caught off by yet another blow—and then everything went dark.

  Monday. South of Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Jackie clutched Felix, holding him as close to her as she could. His head bobbed every time the big truck hit a bump in the road. She did her best to keep his head and neck steady, but it seemed like every other minute she almost lost her hold on him. Blood covered her clothes, her hands, and she couldn’t tell if it was all from the gash on his brow or elsewhere. No one seemed to care about him, and she was terrified of drawing the attention of her captors. Then again, the men wouldn’t speak directly to her, meet her eyes or anything. Was it easier to live with themselves if they pretended she wasn’t real? That she wasn’t a person?

  “Hang in there, Felix,” she whispered. She was still angry with him, but he didn’t owe her his life. Whatever could have been done differently was in the past. All they could do now was survive the present.

  The light on the horizon faded, they grew closer to the city, and still Felix didn’t wake up.

  She’d been worried yesterday about a concussion, but he’d been fine. After the beating he’d taken, the blood staining both their clothes, she was simply glad he was still breathing. She smoothed his hair off his face and whispered a prayer.

  They’d almost made it out, because of Felix. And now, she could see the dark shapes of Nouakchott against the stars in the distance. From this direction, the fires eating up the slums were brighter, bigger.