The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(55)

She shivered, recognizing General Ita Jemwa’s large stature and scarred face from the newspaper articles about Nikos’s kidnapping. Now looming large between her and rescue was the man who’d collected the million-dollar reward for her brother’s return, the man who—according to Nikos’s journal—had been his original kidnapper. She wondered who had put those notes into her bag in the first place. Who wanted her to know what had really happened in Kanzi?

The general nodded to two of his men. The soldiers opened the back flap of the first truck, unloaded a cooler, and handed out bottles of water and sandwiches. Peter and Brianna leaned against a truck, downing water. Rif’s erect posture told her he was on guard. Thea twisted the cap off an icy bottle and guzzled the contents. The water quenched her thirst, but a pit of foreboding still lodged in her stomach.

The general surveyed the black carcass of the plane’s fuselage, then zeroed in on her. “Ms. Paris, I believe. I’ve worked with your father over the years. Welcome to Kanzi. This must be your lucky day.”

Hardly. “I’ll consider myself lucky when I’m sitting in an air-conditioned restaurant eating a steak.” She forced her lips into a tight smile.

The general laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “I’ll kill the cow myself if I have to—we don’t want our guests to be disappointed.”





Chapter Thirty-Seven



Rif calculated his options should things go sideways. There weren’t many. The AKs pointed in their direction were difficult to ignore. He’d recognized General Ita Jemwa immediately from the files Hakan had on Nikos’s kidnapping.

“Let’s get you somewhere cooler. My camp is two hours west of here.” General Jemwa adjusted his beret and snapped his fingers. The soldiers sprang into action, repacking the water and supplies into the Land Cruiser.

Rif and Thea rode with the general in the newer truck. The air-conditioning was heavenly after being stuck in the unforgiving desert for hours.

Sitting next to the huge soldier, Rif experienced a flicker of sympathy for Nikos. He couldn’t imagine how frightened a twelve-year-old boy would be faced with this gigantic man as his kidnapper.

The Land Cruisers negotiated the endless sand dunes, targeting the setting sun. The general shifted his bulk to face Rif. “We intercepted your distress signal on our radio and realized you were close by. What happened?”

“Technical difficulties,” Rif said.

“Of the most serious kind, apparently,” the general said. “You’re very fortunate to have survived that crash.”

“The pilots died saving us.” Thea was smart to say that. Keep your potential enemies in the dark about a teammate’s aviation skills. She had a hell of a poker face. “We need to reach Victoria Falls Hotel in Zimbabwe by noon tomorrow. Can we arrange for a helicopter to pick us up at your camp?”

“Let’s get you showered, fed, and rested. Tomorrow will take care of itself.” The general smiled, clearly enjoying his control.

Rif sensed Thea’s unrest, understood her impatience. She was torn up about her father. Every minute she was away from cell reception was a minute she wasn’t searching for Christos. Perhaps they should take a closer look at General Jemwa. After all, he had a history of kidnapping as well as a past with the Paris family. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t unusual for more than one family member to be abducted by the same person or group, especially if the family acquiesced to the demands too quickly. Soft targets made kidnappers greedy. These abductions were twenty years apart, but maybe the Kanzi oil negotiations had acted as a catalyst for Jemwa. A need for money? A power move?

“Your hospitality is appreciated, but it’s urgent that we reach the hotel. Our negotiations start tomorrow,” she said.

“We’ll make sure you arrive on time. In fact, I’ll be traveling with you—I’ve been consulting on security measures for the event, and I already have an advance team in place.”

“Excellent, then it won’t inconvenience you to leave tonight.”

“We have a celebration planned for our soldiers this evening. But don’t worry: as my guests, you’ll be included in the festivities.”

“How gracious.” Her words hung in the air. “Any chance you have a satphone at the camp?”

“Absolutely. It wasn’t working this morning, but we can try again tonight.”

So, the general wanted to control their communications, but why? Was he an opportunist trying to use them as leverage in a business deal? Was he involved in Christos’s kidnapping? Or was he kidnapping them?

The caravan pulled into an encampment surrounded by electrified fencing and armed sentries. For now, they were the general’s guests.

Or, perhaps more accurately, his prisoners.





Chapter Thirty-Eight



Given that General Jemwa’s training camp was in the middle of a desert, Thea was impressed by its creature comforts. Two soldiers brought hot water for the tub inside the permanent-feeling tent where she’d spend the night. After bathing, drinking another large bottle of water, eating two sandwiches, and injecting the insulin that still seemed sufficiently cool from her insulated pouch, she finally felt rejuvenated.

But concern weighed on her mind. She had Papa’s cell phone, but it’d been all day since she’d had proper service. If the real kidnapper tried to reach her and was dumped into voice mail, who knew what he would do to her father?