Digging Deeper: An Adventure Novel (Sam Harris Series Book 1) (14 page)

Pibé looked exhausted. He leaned against her with heavy eyelids drooping.  Sam patted her lap and he swivelled around as if it were the most natural thing in the world to put his head in it.  She scratched his dirty head.  His dusty curls sprung back under her fingers. Pibé sighed, a big, tired sigh.  He shrunk as the air left him and become even smaller and more vulnerable.

She was also very tired, so swung her legs up on the bank, lowered her torso onto the ground, moved the little boy up to her chest and put her arm around him.  She put her rucksack under her head and tried to fit her body to the contours of the terrace.  The round pebbles slid over one another, creating a hollow for her hips.  The noise of the crickets was deafening but also comforting.  It struck her that she now fulfilled her wish to have a man to sleep with, although this was not quite the scenario she had in mind.  She fell asleep soothed by his soft breathing.

She was awakened by someone shaking her sleeve.  It was a very thin woman wearing a worn out t-shirt with the logo ‘She’s got to have it.’  The fires were dying and all the cooking utensils had been cleared away.

‘Are you Pibé’s mother?’ asked Sam.

‘Yes, my name is Tereza.  What is yours?’

‘My name is Sam.’

Sam shifted so that she was sitting up. Tereza sat beside her on the bank.

‘Thank you for looking after Pibé.  He is still very small for such a big walk but don’t tell him I said so.  I cannot leave them at home but I must cook for MARFO when they need me.  It is my duty.’

‘Edison told me that your husband fought with MARFO.’

‘Yes, that was when the western powers were on our side.  The government troops shot him in an ambush.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.  I don’t really understand the war at all.’

‘Don’t worry, Sam, we women don’t ever understand why men must fight and die.’

‘They don’t even care who they are fighting.'

‘Was that your friend who was killed? The one who was with you when you were fishing?’

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure it was.’

‘I’m sorry, too.  We were very grateful for the fish.’

Sam shrugged.  As if by mutual agreement, the two women lay down with the little boy sandwiched in between them and were soon joined by Edison who curled up to his mother’s back.  Sam pulled her towel over the group as best she could.  Soon, they were all asleep.

The next morning, they were all up at dawn.  Sam filled her water bottle in the stream and added an iodine tablet.  The neutralising tablets were still in the drawer beside her bed, so she would have to put up with the taste.  She was not sure that iodine killed all the germs in the water but drinking nothing was not an option.  If she wanted to keep up with the marchers, she must keep hydrated.  She took a malaria tablet and sucked on a sweet while she waited for the column to move off.

Sam glanced at the male captives from Kardo.  The British all looked exhausted.  Brian looked rough with his far from immaculate shirt hanging over his huge belly, and one of the epaulets hanging down from the shoulder.

There were several Filipino mechanics that she vaguely recognised.  She felt guilty that she did not know most of their names.  The rebels used them as mules to carry the booty from Kardo.  The mechanics were tough little men and even now, they chatted and laughed as if nothing had happened.

One of them wandered over and offered Sam a cigarette.  She accepted without thinking.  The Filipinos had salvaged their stashes of duty-free cigarettes from their rooms during the raid.  They would use them as currency on the walk to buy food and water from the MARFO fighters, who did not notice that they could take the cigarettes from the Filipinos if they wanted to.

The smoke in her lungs felt like a vice, as her body struggled with the unexpected assault of an unfiltered, full-strength Filipino brand cigarette.  Sam coughed repeatedly, bent over double with effort.

The mechanic laughed at her. She recognised him as Marco, who had rescued her on the night of the washing machine leak.  She grinned back.  Fred and Brian glared at her, but she was not bothered.  She felt she had the upper hand now that physical fitness came into the equation.  She was fit and she was proud of her toughness.  Fred and Brian carried another man in excess weight between them.  That was bound to affect them sooner or later.

Bob sat apart from the main group on one of the terraces, gathering and inspecting pebbles and then skimming them across the river if they were flat enough.  His lanky frame concentrated on getting the most skims he could out of the flat quartz pebbles.  He looked unconcerned.  He had his crew with him and that was reason enough for Bob to feel serene.  The Filipinos admired and liked Bob.  His laconic humour went right over their heads but they appreciated his expertise and light-handed management.

Sam had to admit that Bob had grown on her since the bar incident.  She wondered if news of the attack had reached Mondongo yet.  What would Black do?  What did MARFO want anyway?  She could find out.  Being a Portuguese speaker would be a big advantage in this situation.

This time she did no try to keep up with her male colleagues.  Instead she joined the women at the back of the column.  She walked with her head down to keep the sun off her face.  She wore a long-sleeved shirt and khaki trousers, loose enough to allow the air to circulate, so she did not get too hot.

Pibé and Edison soon located her.  Pibé walked alongside Sam talking in a continuous stream about how good he was at football, what a great fighter his father was, how his mother was the best cook in the village and how his brother was the best fisherman.

Sam did not understand half of this strange mix of local patois and Portuguese.  But she made the right noises in the right places, which was enough to encourage the little boy to keep talking.  His brother interjected every now and then to correct any gross errors but he appeared used to these streams of consciousness and did not try to stop the flow.

The column wended its way cross-country.   At midday they stopped beside a deserted village.  The heat was overpowering.  Sam had rationed her water with care, but she only had a tiny bit left at the bottom of her bottle.  She knew that she must keep drinking if she wanted to keep walking.  She took a chance and handed the bottle to Edison.

‘Edison, please can you find me some water?’ He disappeared behind the mud huts.  While he was gone, the captives were herded inside a hut.  Sam was dismayed to find that she had to go in, too.  She had been avoiding contact with the others since the attack and she did not fancy being trapped in a small space with a belligerent Brian Lynch.

She sat on her rucksack with her back to the wall amongst the Filipinos, her head down, trying not to draw attention to herself.  The hut was very dark with the door closed.   It was like an oven.  Rivulets of sweat ran down her back, soaking her shirt.   She felt the hostile glances from the Kardo captives.

‘What’s that dirty little snitch doing in here with us?’ asked Brian.

‘She’s the reason we're here don’t forget,’ said Fred.

‘Why don’t you fuck off, Sam?  We don’t want you in here.’

Sam bristled. ‘Do you really think I want to be in here with you lot?  After all the friendship and help you have offered me in the last three months?  Fuck off yourselves, you wankers.’

‘Now lads,’ said Bob. ‘We should stick together here.  Let bygones be bygones.’

‘Not fucking likely.  She deserves everything she gets.  Filthy feminist lesbian.’

There was a short silence and then, despite herself, Sam guffawed.  Even Bob laughed.  Brian was incensed and lunged forward at her, tripping over a rucksack and almost falling into the huddle of Filipino mechanics.  They looked startled and huddled closer together, glancing around with incomprehension.  Brian stumbled backwards, quivering with resentment.

Fred’s face showed that he could not imagine why Sam and Bob were laughing.  He put his hand on Brian’s shoulder to indicate his solidarity with the security man.  Sam caught Bob’s eye. He winked at her, observed by the mechanics, who closed ranks around her. Those spare parts were earning their beer now.  Relaxing against the cool mud wall, she shut her eyes and fell asleep, surrounded by her new allies.

All too soon, the door re-opened. The captives were ushered out blinking into the bright afternoon sunlight.  From the position of the sun, Sam estimated that it was about five o' clock.  She did not need any prompting and joined the women and children at the back of the column.

She was relieved to see Edison carrying her water bottle. He offered it to her, smiling.  Sam gave him a sweet, which he bit in two to give half to Pibé.  She would keep the sweets as currency.  She was very hungry.  Her stomach growled, and she knew she must eat some tuna in order to keep going.  There were six tins of tuna in her rucksack, so maybe she could walk for twelve days.  After that, she did not know what she would do.  There was always the chance of finding something to eat, but she did not think it likely.  The MARFO fighters would have priority over any foodstuffs found en route.  They set off cross-country following a well-worn footpath with the setting sun on their left, heading for MARFO headquarters to the north.

That evening, Tereza came to see Sam and the boys, who sat under a tree, playing a throwing game with pebbles.  She had managed to obtain a tin cooking pot half full of funge.  Sam had never imagined she would be so glad to see that beige, tasteless paste.

Tereza made it clear that Sam would share the food and was about to divide it between them when Sam stopped her.  She fished around in her rucksack and pulled out a tin of tuna.  She indicated to Tereza that she wanted to mix it into the funge and was rewarded with a vigorous nodding of the head.  Using her penknife to open the tin, she was careful not to let any of the oil spill on the ground.  She tipped the tuna and oil into the pot and Tereza mixed it into the funge.  Tereza made greasy balls with the mixture and handed it out to the hungry group.

‘Mmm.  Very good,’ said Edison. ‘I like this meat a lot.’  Pibé had a trail of fish oil down his chin, His eyes shone.  The tuna made the funge almost edible for Sam, who was amused by the boys’ exclamations of ecstasy.   It hit the spot in that the hunger pangs vanished for an hour or two. Sam snatched a few hours’ sleep before they returned to the road.

Jim Hennessy arrived at the Gemsite office in Mondongo. He was back early from leave.  He soon located Black, who had commandeered the boardroom and was sitting in the Chairman’s seat, the table in front of him littered with dirty tea cups and full ashtrays.  The smell of the ashtrays was overpowering. Jim, who did not smoke, tried to open the windows.   They were stuck fast.

‘Jesus, Adrian, it stinks in here.  Can’t we go somewhere else?  Why don’t we go to the café around the corner and have a nice custard tart?’

‘They don’t have tea or anything I recognise as tea.’

‘We can bring a teabag with us.  Let’s go. I need a decent coffee to wake me up.’

Despite his reputation as a despot, Black was good at taking instructions from people brave enough to issue them.  Shuffling along with his head down, as if he were being taken against his will, Black followed Jim out of the office to the café.

Jim ordered a selection of tarts, some coffee and hot water.  He sat outside with Black, who was making short work of his latest cigarette.  They sat in the sun without saying anything until their order arrived.  Black launched into the tarts without preamble. Jim smiled.  He knew his boss was a beast when it came to sweet things.

Once the tea and coffee were served, Jim asked Black to tell him what had happened at Kardo.  Black leaned forward and lowered his voice.  Jim also leaned forward, to hear him.

‘It was a train-wreck,’ said Black.  ‘The expats in charge of security had come to Mondongo to negotiate a pay rise.  The poor fuckers that were left behind got massacred.  I hear they ran around like headless chickens.’

‘Did we lose anyone?’

‘Two mechanics and a diamond sorter called Dirk.’

‘Dirk? Poor bastard.  He didn’t deserve that.  I hear they took captives.’

‘Yes.  Thirteen in total.  Bob and his mechanics, Fred, Brian and Sam.  They’ve walked them out of camp and may be heading to MARFO country up north near the Zambian border.  I expect they will ask for a ransom of some sort.’

‘Poor Sam.  How’s she going to survive?’

Black smiled and looked smug.  ‘Don’t kid yourself.  That woman is tougher than all of the others put together.  She'll make it.  Remember Filiberto who turned up two years later?  They don’t have any reason to maltreat them.’

‘Did they get the diamonds’?

‘No, one of the key holders was in Mondongo at the security negotiations.  Don’t worry, you’ll still get your bonus.’

Jim looked at Black in amazement.  Did Black really believe that his motives were financial?

Black sucked on a cigarette, nonchalantly blowing smoke rings into the Mondongo air.  He did not notice the effect his statement had on Jim.  Oblivious to people’s feelings, Black was a man apart.

‘Okay,' said Black. ‘Enough fucking about.  Let’s go back and deal with the train wreck.  I have a meeting with General Fuego, the head of the armed services, this afternoon to discuss the fall-out.’

Jim shook himself to remove the taint of Black’s remark.  He followed his boss back to the office.

***

That afternoon, Black arrived at the offices of General Fuego in central Mondongo just after the hottest part of the day.   He was shown into the cool inner patio where abundant foliage caressed the walls and joists.  A small fountain bubbled over into a dark pool at its base that contained small, coloured fish.  Black sat on a wooden bench, blowing smoke from his cigarette up through the gap beneath the raised roof.  The afternoon breeze blew the smoke back into the atrium, making swirls of smoke and dust, which caught the sun that was low enough on the horizon to sneak under the roof in places.  Particles of dust danced in the sunlight, mesmerising Black.

He was miles away by the time the General came out to see him.  The General stood in front of him for several seconds before Black realised that he was there.

‘Mr Black.  I was expecting you.’

‘Ah, yes, General. Forgive me. I was day dreaming.’

‘Counting your money, no doubt.’

Black smiled sheepishly.  That remark was not so far from the truth.  He moved sideways on the bench, making room for the General to sit down.  The two men sat alone for a while, contemplating the rays of sunlight hitting the atrium walls.

‘So,’ began the General. ‘I was very sorry to hear of the attack on Kardo.  I offer you my commiserations on the losses suffered by your workforce.’

‘It is very kind of you to say so.’

‘I understand that it was a MARFO attack.  My sources tell me that they were unable to open the safes.’

‘That’s correct, General.’

‘Do you have any information on the captives?’

‘Yes sir. I believe that twelve men and one woman were captured.’

The General turned to face Black and took a deep breath before asking, ‘A woman?  Was she a local?’

‘No, sir. She's a geologist, one of the new members of staff, Sam Harris.’

The General turned away and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.  He sat very still for a minute, contemplating his ultra-shiny shoes.

Black waited for a comment, but since none was forthcoming, he decided that protocol would allow him to ask a question.

‘Do you have any news on the whereabouts of the group?’

The General looked up and gazed at Black.

‘We have a pretty clear idea where they are headed.   The main MARFO camp is about thirty kilometres from the border of Zambia.  It will take them about a week to get there if they walk all day.  Once they get there, we are sure to hear from them.  I expect they will have demands.’

‘What sort of demands?’

‘They will ask for a ransom since they couldn’t open the safe and did not get the diamonds.  They don’t often take captives unless they want to do a swap of some kind.  I was in charge of negotiations with MARFO many times, so I have my sources.  I expect I will hear from them before too long.’

Black digested this information without mentioning the fabled case of his Filipino mechanic.

‘I have taken enough of your time, General.  I will await news from you, and we will proceed as you suggest, once we know what they want.’

‘Thank you for coming.  I know you must be worried.  We will endeavour to keep you up-to-date with all news as we get it.’

Black left the General sitting on the bench in the atrium, still looking at his shoes.

***

After eight days, the now exhausted MARFO fighters and their captives arrived at their main camp in the north of Tamazia.  Sam was in good shape thanks to the food and water provided by Tereza and her boys.  She was much thinner than she had been when she had arrived in Tamazia.  This would have cheered her up under normal circumstances, but it did not top her current list of priorities.  She was marched through the camp with the other staff from Kardo. Curious inhabitants looked on.  Some cheered.

The camp consisted of about twenty mud huts with palm leaf roofs, surrounded by a thick hedge of thorn bushes.  There was a central open area, which looked like it might occasionally serve as a football pitch.  The largest hut opened onto it.  There were a few light bulbs strung around the camp at eccentric intervals, indicating the presence of a generator.  There was a cooking area where two topless girls were using large blunt-end poles to pound the cassava in the mortars into flour.

Sam waited for her colleagues to make a childish comment about the young breasts swinging free.  But Brian and Fred had shrunk in stature and bravado.  They both walked by without noticing.

Sam noticed that Bob and his mechanics had enough energy left to make wisecracks about the state of the camp, including asking where the swimming pool was.  She was just glad to take off her boots and sit in the shade.  The captives were left sitting under a mango tree with one guard, whilst their fate was discussed in the main hut.

It would have been easy to overpower the guard and run away. But she had no idea if the border was close or whether their captors would come after them with guns.  She hoped they would be better fed now they were in what looked like a well-run camp with an obvious cooking area.

The arrival of the foreigners caused quite a stir amongst the children in the camp.  When they first arrived, the children scattered screaming in terror.  Some of the toddlers burst into tears and had to be comforted by their mothers.  Edison giggled.

‘Why are they crying?’ asked Sam. 

‘When we are small, our mothers tell us that if we don’t go to sleep, the white man will come and eat us. Most of those children have never seen a white person before, never mind a blonde one like you.’

Sam knew that with her light brown hair she was considered blonde but not that she was also terrifying to small children.  It was funny to see their little faces screwed up in terror.  She told Edison to tell the children not to worry and that she was not one of those white people.

She sat under the mango tree and, little by little, the children overcame their terror and came to touch her hair and her face.  As long as she did not move, they were quite brave.  But if she lifted her arm, they all ran away screaming and laughing.

Pibé was determined to show that he was not afraid.  He sat down in Sam’s lap.

There was a commotion in the main hut. Sam heard several loud voices.  This went on for a few minutes.  Then the voices fell silent and the door of the main hut opened.

A tall, muscular man with a wispy beard came out.  He approached the group and surveyed them with something approaching sympathy.

‘My name is Joao Contes.  I am in charge of this MARFO unit,’ he said in Portuguese.  There was silence for a few seconds. Then Sam greeted him back.

‘Do you speak more Portuguese than that?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Translate this please: The council of MARFO is grateful for the help of the Filipino workers in carrying our goods back to camp.  They are not involved in this white man’s war, so they will be allowed to go home.  I have instructed my contact in Mondongo to have them removed as soon as possible.  That should happen in a few days’ time.  We will keep the white people for ransom.  Do not worry. As soon as the ransom is paid, we will release you, too.’

He turned to Sam. ‘Do you know if there is an electrician amongst the Filipinos?’ 

‘At least one.  If you include Bob, I think there are three.’

Sam indicated Bob, who sat amongst his mechanics, smoking a cigarette.  Sam guessed that the supply of cigarettes would soon runout.  She imagined the panic that would cause.  Worse than being captured?  Maybe not.  It looked like they would not get the chance to smoke them all.

‘Good. Can you inform them that in return for their freedom, I want them to fix the generator?’

‘Of course.’

She was sure of getting a positive response from the group.  They loved to show off their skills and hated not having anything to do.  She approached them and translated the news.  The Filipinos all cheered and set off with another of the MARFO troops to look for parts amongst the tools and electrical goods stolen from Kardo.

Brian and Fred were nonplussed.

‘What about us?’ asked Fred.

‘I told you,’ said Sam. ‘He says that we are being held for ransom.  Don’t worry. I’m sure Black will sort something out.’

‘That show’s how much you know.  Black would rather die than pay a ransom.  We’re fucked.’  Fred moved back into the shade of the mango tree and spoke to Brian in a low voice.

Sam shrugged.  In a strange way, she felt liberated in the MARFO camp.  Being the only Portuguese speaker gave her a power that she did not have at Kardo.  She wondered if Black would really abandon them.  Had the General heard about the raid?  What would he think?  Was Pedro right that she just a source of easy information?

Sam had been convinced that she had made a genuine connection with the General.  She was usually right about these matters.  One thing was certain: the connection had been much stronger than the one that Pedro tried to make with her.  She shuddered.

***

Soon after the captives arrived in the MARFO camp in the northeast corner of Tamazia, the General was on his way to see the President. He had received the news of their arrival and of the imminent release of the Filipinos from his sources.  He was keen to discuss the delicate issue with his brother-in-law, with whom he had a certain amount of influence.

He entered the palace and was shown into the inner sanctum where he was kept waiting a good hour and a half before the President came in.  He considered the marble walls and floors that were the best Brazil could offer and cool to the touch even in this infernal heat.  The swirling patterns in the rock told stories of ancient orogenies and of heat and pressure under the earth.  A large chandelier with hundreds of bulbs hung from the domed roof.  The walls were covered in paintings of women with implausible robe slippage.  He knew where the oil money was going.  In truth, he was getting his share.  Being the brother-in-law of the President had its perks.

He heard the tall doors swing open and turned to face the person who had entered. ‘Good morning, Mr President.’

‘Cunhado, good morning.  How are you today?  And your family, are they well?’