Cameron’s deputy quickly relieved Jack and the others of their passports, wallets, money, and car keys. He gave them to Siegfried, who slowly went through them. After he looked at Jack’s passport, he raised his eyes and glowered at him.
“I’ve been told you are a troublemaker,” Siegfried said with disdain.
“I’d rather think of myself as a tenacious competitor,” Jack said.
“Ah, arrogant as well,” Siegfried snarled. “I hope your tenacity comes in handy once you are turned over to the Equatoguinean military.”
“Perhaps we can call the American Embassy and resolve this,” Jack said. “We are, after all, government employees.”
Siegfried smiled, which actually only increased his scar-induced sneer. “American Embassy?” he questioned with uncamouflaged scorn. “In Equatorial Guinea! What a joke! Unfortunately for you, it’s out on the island of Bioko.” He turned to Cameron. “Put them in the jail but separate the men and the women!”
Cameron snapped his fingers for his deputy. He wanted the four handcuffed first. While this was in progress he and Siegfried drew off to the side.
“Are you really going to hand them over to the Equatoguineans?” Cameron asked.
“Absolutely,” Siegfried said. “Raymond told me all about Stapleton. They have to disappear.”
“When?” Cameron asked.
“As soon as Taylor Cabot leaves,” Siegfried said. “I want this whole episode kept quiet.”
“I understand,” Cameron said. He touched the brim of his hat and then went back to supervise the transfer of the prisoners to the jail in the basement of the town hall.
CHAPTER 22
MARCH 9, 1997
4:15 P.M.
ISLA FRANCESCA
“SOMETHING very strange is going on,” Kevin said.
“But what?” Melanie said. “Should we get our hopes up?”
“Where could all the other animals be?” Candace questioned.
“I don’t know whether to be encouraged or concerned,” Kevin said. “What if they’re having Armageddon with the other group, and the fighting spreads to here?”
“God almighty,” Melanie commented. “I never thought of that.”
Kevin and the women had been virtual prisoners for over two days. They had not been allowed to leave the small cave the entire time of their confinement, and it now smelled as bad or worse than the outer cave. To relieve themselves, they’d been forced to go back into the tunnel which reeked like a mini-cesspool.
They themselves didn’t smell much better. They were filthy from wearing the same clothes and sleeping on the rock and dirt floor. Their hair was hopelessly matted. Kevin’s face was covered with a two-day stubble. They were all weak from lack of exercise and food although each had eaten some of what was brought to them.
Around ten o’clock that morning, there’d been a sense that something abnormal was happening. The animals had become agitated. Some had rushed out only to return moments later, making loud cries. Early on, bonobo number one had gone out but had yet to return. That in itself was abnormal.
“Wait a second,” Kevin said suddenly. He put up his hands to keep the women from making any noise. He strained to hear by turning his head slowly from side to side.
“What is it?” Melanie asked urgently.
“I thought I heard a voice,” Kevin said.
“A human voice?” Candace questioned.
Kevin nodded.
“Wait, I just heard it!” Melanie said with excitement.
“I did, too,” Candace said. “I’m sure it was a human voice. It sounded like someone yelling ‘okay.’ ”
“Arthur heard it, too,” Kevin said. They’d named the bonobo who most often stood guard at the lip of the small cave Arthur for no particular reason other than to have a way to refer to him. Over the long hours, they’d had what could have been called a dialogue. They’d even been able to guess at some of the meanings of the bonobo words and gestures.
The ones they were the most sure of included “arak,” which meant “away” especially when accompanied by the spreading of fingers and a sweeping arm motion, the same gesture Candace had seen in the operating room. There was also “hana” for “quiet” and “zit” for “go.” They were very sure of “food” and “water,” which were “bumi” and “carak” respectively. A word they weren’t too sure of was “sta” accompanied by holding up one’s hands with palms out. They thought it might be the pronoun “you.”
Arthur stood up and loudly vocalized to the few bonobos remaining in the cave. They listened and then immediately disappeared out the front.
The next thing Kevin and the others heard were several reports from a rifle: not an ordinary gun but rather an air gun. A few minutes later, two figures in animal-center coveralls appeared silhouetted against the hazy, late-afternoon sky at the cave’s entrance. One was carrying a gun, the other a strong, battery-powered lamp.
“Help!” Melanie shouted. She averted her eyes from the strong beam of light but waved her hands frantically lest the men not see her.
There was a loud thump that echoed around the inside of the cave. Simultaneously, Arthur let out a whimper. With a confused expression on his flat face he looked down at a red-tailed dart that protruded from his chest. His hand came up to grasp it, but before he could, he began to wobble. As if in slow motion, he sagged to the floor and rolled over onto his side.
Kevin, Melanie, and Candace emerged from their doorless cell and tried to stand upright. It took a moment for them to stretch. By the time they did the men were kneeling at the side of the bonobo to give the animal an additional dose of tranquilizer.
“My god, are we glad to see you,” Melanie said. She had to steady herself with a hand against the rock. For a moment, the cave had begun to spin.
The men stood up and shined the bright light on the women and then on Kevin. The former captives all had to shield their eyes.
“You people are a mess,” the man with the light said.
“I’m Kevin Marshall and this is Melanie Becket and Candace Brickmann.”
“I know who you are,” the man said flatly. “Let’s get out of this shithole.”
Kevin and the women were happy to comply on rubbery legs. The two men followed. Once out of the cave, the three friends had to squint in the bright, hazy sunlight. Below the face of the cliff were a half dozen more animal handlers. They were busy rolling up tranquilized bonobos in reed mats and lifting them onto a trailer where they were carefully positioned side by side.
“There’s one more up here in this cave,” the man with the flashlight yelled down to the others.
“I know you two,” Melanie said once she got a good view of the men who’d come into the cave. “You’re Dave Turner and Daryl Christian.”
The men ignored Melanie. Dave, the taller of the two, pulled a two-way radio out of a holder at his waist. Daryl started climbing down the giant steps.
“Turner to base,” Dave said into the instrument.
“I hear you loud and clear,” Bertram said on the other end.
“We got the last of the bonobos and we’re loading up,” Dave said.
“Excellent work,” Bertram said.
“We found Kevin Marshall and the two women in a cave,” Dave said.
“In what state?” Bertram asked.
“Filthy but otherwise apparently healthy,” Dave said.
“Give me that thing!” Melanie said, reaching for Dave’s radio. Suddenly, she didn’t like being talked about disparagingly by an underling.
Dave fended her off. “What do you want me to do with them?”
Melanie put her hands on her hips. She was incensed. “What do you mean ‘what to do with them’?”
“Bring them to the animal center,” Bertram said. “I’ll inform Siegfried Spallek. I’m sure he’ll want to talk with them.”