The sun had risen over the mountains behind us a few minutes earlier. I knew we had a serious decision to make. We had originally planned to go straight south from here through Buena Vista, but we could cover amazing ground disguised in this jeep. We could get further faster, staying on Interstate 70 and racing west, perhaps even getting to Glenwood Springs before dropping south. That would save us a ton of travel time. Danny told us a little about the ride with “High Five.” It was funny to everyone but Sam. He added that the soldier had come from the base in Grand Junction a week ago. That told us we couldn’t chance going that far west. It seemed smartest to make the run for Glenwood Springs.
Hopefully everyone up at the Alpine Visitor Center was still unaware of what had taken place. In all likelihood we’d have a couple more hours before any alert was sent out regarding the missing men, and beyond that who knew how long it would be before the dots were connected and the message was spread to the other bases. If that even happened. We figured we were in the clear for a little while longer, and we needed to make the most of that advantage.
With a full tank of gas in each jeep we cruised towards Glenwood Springs. Arriving a little after 7:30 a.m., we took Exit 116 and headed south across the Colorado River and alongside the Roaring Fork River on Highway 82. We passed a small camp that was active but not attentive and moved through as quickly as we could. We traveled 120 miles down to Montrose and had just filled up with gas again when we saw the first drone pass overhead. Crap. Forgot all about those.
We’d been careful all the way down here and stopped at every convenient form of cover every thirty miles or so—for fifteen to twenty minutes each time—to see if anyone was following us. We hadn’t seen anything yet, but then there was no radar on these jeeps, and the radios hadn’t made a single sound.
It was almost 11 a.m. now. We’d been stopped at a checkpoint, a half-hour back in Delta, but the soldiers had easily accepted Sam and Isaac’s one word responses of “Durango” to their “Where you go?” And we’d moved on. At least we knew they weren’t suspicious here yet. But when the drone passed over us a second time, ten minutes after we left Montrose, we began to wonder if our wonderful run of luck was about to run out. Perhaps word had started to spread back at the Alpine Visitor Center. Or maybe the guys in Delta had figured us out.
We made it to the Ridgeway Reservoir north of the fork in the road heading to either Durango or Cortez, and Danny thought it would be a good time to stop and let everyone out. There was a bridge over shallow water south of the reservoir on the Uncompahagre River, and we pulled our jeeps into the water under that bridge.
A few hours later, after several more drones had flown directly overhead, we heard what sounded like a thousand trucks drive by, heading south on the road a couple hundred yards east of us. Protected by the coolness and structure of the bridge, we managed to avoid detection. Neither of our jeeps had a THIRST system, which was both a blessing and a curse for us. No one could track our system, but then we couldn’t track anyone else’s either.
A half hour or so before dark we heard another vehicle race by, also heading south. There was definitely a lot going on around us, but we couldn’t just sit here. We stayed under the bridge until nightfall—the jeeps and bridge having provided the best possible cover from every direction for us—but now it was time to move again.
SEVENTY-TWO: (Eddie) “Sit. Stay.”
It’d been a rough few weeks for Eddie and Lazzo in Buena Vista since the new general had taken over. General Roja and his four officers had made their lives a living hell. Anyone who associated themselves with either of the brothers was put through similar bullying and ridicule, so fewer and fewer people were willing to even be seen with them.
The only other African in the camp was himself a recent transfer—Amadi Ndiaye—and even he put in a special request to the general to be kept far away from those two. But the general had a different plan for him. He wanted the soldier to get information for him. “Stay close to brothers. Gain their trust. They will talk,” he’d told the man. Amadi was worried about abuse from the other soldiers, but the general made him a promise. “You’ll be abused. Yes. But maybe I make you captain soon? Yes? Captain Ndiaye.”
For a soldier with no rank, that was too good to pass up.
One night, when Amadi was washing the hallway floors outside the general’s office, he heard the general laughing, so he stopped to listen. “That fool is giving us everything we need. Soon we have enough to kill the gorilla.”
“But I make you captain,” he heard another man say.
“Yes, master. Okay, master,” came another voice, mimicking slave speak. Then a great deal of laughter.
Amadi almost dropped the mop he was holding. They were talking about him. They were mocking him. He was never going to be captain. The general would use him to get information on Eddie and Lazzo, and then he’d have them all killed.
Amadi was boiling mad and immediately sought out Lazzo. Privately the two of them had almost become friends the past week or so. Amadi wouldn’t say the same for himself and Eddie—he stayed as far away from the giant as possible—but the brothers roomed together, so going to one, took him to both. Eddie and Lazzo had their own room in the lodge. Amadi’s room was right next to theirs, but being linked to the brothers by the color of his skin, no one wanted to room with him either. So he had a room to himself. He tapped on the wall after he was sure the brothers were in bed. When they tapped back, Amadi opened the door to his room and slipped quietly to their door. He tapped twice again, and the door opened enough to let him slip in. Because Eddie suspected his room was bugged, they went into the bathroom and turned on the fan. Then Amadi told Eddie and Lazzo about everything the general was doing.
Amadi was clearly afraid Eddie wouldn’t understand, but Eddie understood perfectly. He wasn’t sure he could trust Amadi, but he figured he would give the man a chance. Eddie gave him a dangerous assignment and told him if he wanted to prove his loyalty, he’d have to complete it. Lazzo objected to putting their one ally at risk, but Eddie insisted, and Eddie typically got his way. Amadi needed to get Eddie a radio tuned into the same frequency as the general’s. There was only one that wouldn’t be in the general’s possession, and that was the one the former base commander had left where he always kept it, behind a false wall in the liquor cabinet…in the general’s sleeping quarters.
Two nights later Amadi brought the radio to him. He’d gone in to clean the general’s toilet, and the general had needed to use the bathroom. It only took Amadi a minute to find the radio and tuck it away while the general’s dogs barked at him and the general yelled from the bathroom at them to shut up. Amadi finished the job and returned to his room.
He had been searched entering the general’s quarters, but not leaving them. He still had his gloves on when he came out of the bathroom into the main room, and they were dripping wet. He wiped them on his shirt and raised his arms for the two guards at the door, but they wanted nothing to do with him. Perfect. When the hallway quieted down for the night, he tapped on the wall again, but instead of entering Eddie’s room this time, he just handed him the radio. In case the radio ended up being discovered in Eddie’s possession, Amadi was to stay far away. Eddie claimed he didn’t want Amadi to risk his life for them, manipulating the man’s loyalty even more. He then gave Amadi instructions on how to cover his tracks.