Digging Deeper: An Adventure Novel (Sam Harris Series Book 1) (15 page)

‘Thanks be to God we are all fine, sir. And your family?'

‘Thanks be to God everybody is well also.  Have you any news for me?’

‘Yes, sir. We have had news that the Filipino hostages are to be released as soon as practicable.  I have instructed Eduardo to go to the north and hire a bus to take them to the nearest airstrip, where we will have a helicopter waiting.  He will be given safe passage by the rebels.’

‘That is good news. One less ambassador to worry about.  What about the others?’

‘I have heard that MARFO will ask for a ransom for the other foreigners.  I suspect it will be a very large number.’

‘Do you have a view on the likelihood of it being paid?  I would really prefer that we did not start paying ransoms.  It would be a slippery slope as far as MARFO is concerned.’

‘There is no law against ransom payments, sir, but I suspect that Mr Black will not pay.  He is more likely to give away his children than his money.’

‘What will MARFO do if the ransom is not paid?’

‘We do not know, sir.  This is the first time they have asked for a ransom.  In the past they just shot any captives after they had served as mules for the booty from raids on mining camps.  The captives will be murdered if the ransom is not paid.  I would like permission to rescue them if they are in danger.’

‘Let us see how the situation develops.  I don’t want to give any permission right now until I get a clear idea of how things will play out.’

‘But, sir, a rescue operation needs forward planning.  I cannot send people in at a moment’s notice.  Please, let me organise a raiding party just in case.’

‘No, not yet.  Have patience, Fuego.  MARFO rebels do not kill their hostages if they think they can get money out of it.  They use them to play games.  Remember the Filipino who turned up after two years?  The captives might be killed in the rescue and I don’t need to generate an international incident just now.’

The President turned away to indicate that he was finished with the discussion.  Under normal circumstances, the General would have left it at that.  But he had not finished yet.

‘Sir, please. There is a woman amongst the captives.  We cannot let them kill her.’

‘Fuego, your peccadillos are not my concern.  I have heard that your failure to obtain information from that woman was due to your infatuation with her.  I am not risking an international incident so you can rescue your crush.  Don’t try my patience.  If we need to act, we will.  Come and see me when you have news.’

The President swept out of the room and left the General standing by himself in its marble opulence.  Fuego knew that arguing with the President was not going to change his mind.  He resented the insinuation about Sam.  But he knew in his heart of hearts that she had touched him in a way that he was not expecting and he had been unprofessional because of it. When he thought of Sam, it was his heart and not his head that provided the canvas.

It only made it worse that he considered the attack on Kardo to be his fault.  If only he had agreed to a reasonable pay raise for the Security staff, they would have been in Kardo and not in Mondongo.  The raid only succeeded because some of the senior officers were missing.  MARFO headquarters must have received the news from one of their spies and have known that Kardo was vulnerable.  The MARFO chiefs had not realised that the key-holders for the diamond recovery plant would also be in Mondongo.  All too late now.

Sam was a prisoner and might be murdered. He felt responsible.  He got into his car and asked the driver to take him home.

Life in the MARFO camp soon settled into a routine as nerves became less frayed and it appeared less likely that the rebels planned to harm their guests.  The Filipinos had fixed the generator on the first day and had continued to find ways of making life more comfortable, as was their wont.  They had made some stands for the cooking pots and a rudimentary barbeque for the kitchen.  Bare light bulbs now hung in almost every hut. At six-thirty every night, the generator was called into action, making the whole village shine like a diamond on the pitch dark plain.

Sam had been allocated a small scruffy hut beside the hedge that surrounded the compound.  It contained a single bed made of branches raised above the mud floor and a couple of hooks made from twigs thrust into the mud walls.  Her mosquito net hung from the roof over the bed.

Sam kept her precious rucksack on her bed covered in a hemp sack, which served as a mattress.  It contained the iodine tablets, medical kit, repellent, malaria tablets and her treasured penknife.  There was no tea in the camp and she forced herself to drink the hot sweet coffee that was served in the morning.

She spent her days with the women, walking down to the river in the morning to wash herself and her clothes.  There was intense interest in her bra, which was often passed around the group and examined.  Tereza had managed to borrow a t-shirt from somewhere that almost fitted Sam. She wore it whilst her shirt dried on the hot stones of the river bank.

When the washing was finished, it was time to harvest the cassava and tend to the plantations.  Sam was not very good at this and was delegated to child watching, which she found easy.  She spent many happy hours joining in the games and rolling around in the dust.

They were always hungry but not starving, so Sam continued to lose weight but at a slower rate than before.  She fantasised about food a lot, mostly dairy products like cream, butter and cheese.  Funge was not growing on her but she forced herself to eat it and any meat that was offered.

Edison was a champion mouse catcher and Tereza toasted their little bodies on the barbeque for the children.  Sam found them only just worth eating but she remembered tales of Auschwitz and inmates eating insects to survive. She knew that if she were ever to escape, she had to keep her strength up.  She told herself that they were just meat and made Tereza cut the heads off so the incisors and bulging eyes did not accuse her of mouse-icide.

She did not mix with the men at all if she could avoid it.  There was a lot of curiosity about having a white woman in camp and she had to be very subtle about going to relieve herself.  She had twice been aware of men trying to spy on her.  The other women kept her safe from most of it, but at night, she preferred to pee in a bowl rather than leave the relative safety of her hut.

Fred and Brian were in another of the small outer huts.  They spent their days sleeping in the sun and talking.  They could not communicate with anyone in camp and were not interested in helping out.  Both had lost a lot of weight.  Fred was unrecognisable now that his frame was uncurling from his computer-related hunch.  They both had beards and Brian began to look like an aging hippy.

Bob, on the other hand, was always busy, running around fixing things and in his element.  He could not speak Portuguese, but that did not stop him from having animated discussions with the MARFO fighters about all things fixable in the camp.  He used a twig in the dirt to illustrate most of what he was saying and that worked very well most of the time.  Sometimes he roped in Sam to translate when no one could understand, although she could not translate what she could not understand either.  Bob could be seen in the evening drinking cassava beer with his mechanics and the MARFO fighters as they sat around the football pitch under the stars.

The bus arrived for the Filipinos on the fifth day in camp.  To Sam’s immense surprise, Eduardo stepped off the bus.  She was playing with the children and they all ran toward the bus in excitement.  She waved at him but he affected not to see her and was shepherded into the main hut by Joao and the other fighters before she could approach him. Meanwhile, the bus driver opened the luggage compartment under the vehicle and called the women over to help him unload the contents.

There was great excitement as sacks of rice and sugar and boxes of cooking oil and biscuits were unloaded.  Sam spotted some boxes of UHT milk and tinned tuna.  There were even crates of live chickens, which were the worse for wear and needed to be revived with water.  The booty was taken to the kitchens and stored away from sight.

Fred groaned as the precious biscuits disappeared into the store.

‘I’d kill for a biscuit,’ he said.

‘You’re not the only one,’ said Brian.

The Filipinos had assembled their paltry possessions and loitered near the bus.  Marco came over to shake Sam’s hand and gave her two packets of cigarettes ‘for emergencies.’  Sam hid them in the shin pocket of her cargo pants.

Eduardo emerged from the hut and went over to the kitchens where he engaged in an earnest conversation with Tereza.  As Sam watched them, Eduardo gave Tereza something that she put in her pocket without looking at it.  He turned to go. Sam was sure he had seen her but he did not approach her.

She could not understand it.  And to make matters worse, Bob was getting on the bus.  He waved sheepishly at her.  He looked relieved and tired, like an old man after a party.  Why was she not on the bus, too?  Sam could not believe it.  What about women and children first?  She looked left and right trying to find someone who could help her get on the bus with Bob.  She saw only the devastated faces of Fred and Brian, who looked as if they might collapse with chagrin.

‘Why is that useless old fucker leaving first?’ asked Brian.

‘Because he's a useless old fucker I expect,’ said Sam without irony.  The comment was not received well by Brian and Fred but Sam had worked it out by then.  Bob was not worth very much ransom because he was a mechanic.  Brian, on the other hand, was head of security and could provide important information about the security arrangements in the Gemsite mines.  Fred had all the statistics for the diamonds in his head, including how big, what quality and where from.

But why had they kept her?  Sam suspected that someone had suggested to the rebels that she was Black’s new pet and could be used to turn the screw on him.  Something she doubted very much, considering how much he loved his money.  It was all going wrong and she was powerless to stop it.  Why hadn’t the General told Eduardo to get her out?  She could not understand why he pretended not to know her.  So she stood in mute horror as the bus pulled off without her. She felt abandoned and had only Brian and Fred for company.  Could it get any worse?

Sam was deeply depressed over the next few days.  She found it hard to eat, despite the luxury of rice and tuna for the evening meal instead of funge.  Tereza even smuggled her out a packet of biscuits, which she put in her rucksack instead of eating.  The children picked up on her despondency.  Pibé was quite affected by it.  He spent a lot of time sitting with her and refused to play with the other children.  Sam became concerned by his lack of energy. She invited him into her lap for a cuddle to cheer them both up.  Putting her arms around him, she held him close, crooning into his ear.  She was alarmed to feel how hot his skinny body was to the touch.  The little boy was like a furnace.  She could barely tolerate him on her lap.

‘Are you alright, Pibé?’ she asked.  ‘You feel very hot.’

The little boy nodded but his eyes were yellow. He was drenched in a cold sweat.  His eyes rolled up into his head and his body went limp.  Sam only just managed to catch him as he fell backwards off her lap. She lifted him onto her chest and walked to the cooking area.  She soon spotted Tereza, who looked up and dropped the large spoon she was holding.  She ran up to Sam and took the boy from her.  She noticed the heat he was giving off.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ asked Sam.

‘Malaria,’ said his distraught mother.  ‘He is so weak. How will he survive?’  She forgot about Sam and took Pibé into one of the huts near the kitchens.  Sam followed her.  Tereza wiped the boy with a damp cloth.

‘Will you give him medicine?’ asked Sam.

‘I do not have any medicine.  He must survive without it.’

‘But he could die!’

‘Yes, I lost a daughter to malaria two years ago.  Life is hard, and God takes away your children when he wants to.’

Sam was infuriated by the mention of God.  She thought that the death of so many children from disease and famine was good proof that there was no such thing as God.  She had malaria tablets in her bag that could save the little boy but now she was not sure she wanted to give them away.  What if she was a captive for months?  What if she got malaria and had no medicine?  She was not like the local people, who were inured to the effects to a great extent.  If she got cerebral malaria, she would die for sure.

Pibé moaned and sank into the bed, becoming thinner and frailer in an instant.  Sam was sure that her instincts were trying to tell her something.  Surely they would be rescued soon.  She would be certain to put repellent on all the time.  She cursed her conscience. Why couldn’t she be a shit like Black or Brian?

‘Tereza, are you sure that it's malaria?’

‘Oh, yes, we have all had it many times.  I am worried about Pibé because he is so thin and tired.’

‘I have some malaria tablets in my rucksack.  I will bring them now.  Wait here.’

Without waiting for a reply, Sam headed for her hut and rooted around in her rucksack for the tablets.  Taking them out, she sat on her bed, considering the box and the potential consequences of giving it away.

She tried to form an argument for keeping them for herself but it was hopeless.  It was infuriating to be so well brought up.  At that moment, she hated both her parents and their honesty and bravery that she had been immersed in from an early age.  No lying was tolerated.  Everyone else came first.  She was forced to play with the unpopular children at parties because being kind was important.  Now, she was going to risk her life for a little boy who was bound to die of something else, even if he survived the malaria.  How bloody annoying.

She slipped out of her hut and walked across the camp to Tereza’s hut.  She stopped outside and read the instructions in the bright sunlight before she went in.

Brian was passing by. ‘What’s wrong with the wee lad?’ he asked.

‘Malaria.'

‘That’s him dead then,’ he said, in a matter of fact way.

Sam almost punched him.  But he had made her mind up for her.  She entered the hut and helped Tereza dose the boy with tablets.

Tereza grasped Sam’s hands.  ‘Thank you, thank you. I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘Just look after Pibé for me.  He’s the only reason I survive from day to day.’

Sam had said it to make Tereza feel less beholden but she knew it to be true even as the words formed in the stifling air of the dirty hut.  She looked down at Pibé on the bed.  She saw that Tereza had given him the pink teddy bear to hold.  The teddy was not pink at all now but dirty and matted.

Tereza smiled.  ‘He loves the teddy,’ she said.  ‘I could never afford to buy him any toys.’

Sam felt so ashamed that the teddy was not even from her but a cast off from Pedro.  She earned a fortune compared to anyone from Tamazia and could not imagine living in that sort of poverty.  She leaned over and caressed his cheek with her finger.

‘Come on, Pibé, don’t leave me here alone,’ she murmured.

Despite the medicine, Pibé lingered for three days between life and death before turning the corner.  Sam stayed by his side when Tereza could not.  Edison often sat with her.  Pibé lay very still in his bed, fighting the invasion in his small body.  Sam was still depressed by her predicament but sitting beside the almost lifeless boy gave her a sense of perspective. 

She knew that her mother and father would have been informed about what had happened to her by now.  Her flippant comment to them that she could leave if she wanted to came back to haunt her.

As Pibé recovered, Sam tried to build bridges with Brian and Fred.  As much as she hated them for the way she had been treated, she knew that there was often strength in numbers.  Kardo seemed very far away, both in distance and in time.  None of them had been party to the negotiations with the capital, so the uncertainty of their position made them desperate to discuss the possible scenarios of their incarceration.

‘We should try to escape,’ said Brian.

‘To where?’ asked Fred.

‘I’m pretty sure the Zambian border is close,’ said Sam.  ‘We walked north from Kardo.  I was watching the sun.’

‘But how do we get out of the compound?  We’re locked in at night,’ said Fred.

‘What do we do if we reach the border?  Will the guards let us cross without a bribe? The rebels might hunt us down in a day and their treatment might not be so benign as a result,’ said Sam.

‘It’s safer to stay in camp until we’re given news by Joao about the payment of the ransom.  We should know next week according to him.’ 

'It's certain to take a while to settle on the exact amount but I don’t doubt that it will be paid, as Black has taken a shine to Sam,’ said Brian.

‘I don’t know what you did to him,’ said Fred.  ‘I suspect that even the Filipino girls are less skilled at getting what they want.’