one hand, he was an accomplished marksman. In quick succession he pulled
off three rounds and three of the empty wine bottles on the windowsill
of the army post burst into shards of glass. But the music did not
falter.
Gripping the gun tightly in his good hand, Siegfried went over to the
army-post window and looked in. The cassette player was on the desk with
its volume pegged at max. The four soldiers were passed out either on
the floor or slouched in the rickety furniture.
Siegfried raised the gun. He pulled the trigger and the cassette player
flew off the desk. In an instant, the scene was thrust into a painful
silence.
Siegfried went back to Cameron. ‘Call the colonel of the garrison. Tell
him what has happened. Tell him I want these men court-martialed. Tell
him to get a contingent of soldiers here immediately with a vehicle.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Cameron intoned.
Siegfried stepped beneath the arcade and looked at the bars that had
been pulled from the jail-cell windows. They were hand forged. Looking
at the openings, he could tell why they’d come out so easily. The mortar
between the bricks under the stucco had turned to sand.
To get himself under control, Siegfried walked all the way around the
town hall. By the time he rounded the final corner, headlights were
coming along the road. They turned into the parking lot. With screeching
tires the security patrol car came to a halt next to Cameron’s car, and
the duty officer jumped out.
Siegfried cursed under his breath as he approached. With Kevin and the
women plus the Americans missing, the bonobo project was in serious
jeopardy. They had to be found.
‘Mr. Spallek,’ Cameron said. ‘I have some information. Officer O’Leary
thinks he saw Kevin Marshall’s car ten minutes ago. Of course, we can
quickly confirm it if it is still there.’
‘Where?’ Siegfried asked.
‘In the lot by the Chickee Hut Bar,’ O’Leary said. ‘I noticed it on my
last tour.’
‘Did you see any people?’
‘No, sir! Not a soul.’
‘There’s supposed to be a guard down there,’ Siegfried said. ‘Did you
see him?’
‘Not really, sir,’ O’Leary said.
‘What do you mean `not really’?’ Siegfried growled. He was fed up with
incompetence.
‘We don’t make it a point to pay much attention to the soldiers,’
O’Leary said.
Siegfried looked off in the distance. In a further attempt to control
his anger, he forced himself to notice how the moonlight reflected off
the vegetation. The beauty calmed him to a degree, and he reluctantly
admitted that he didn’t pay much attention to the soldiers, either.
Rather than serving any truly utilitarian purpose, they were just there;
one of the costs of doing business with the Equatoguinean government.
But why would Kevin’s car be at the Chickee Hut Bar? Then it dawned on
him.
‘Cameron, was it determined how the Americans got into town?’ Siegfried
asked.
‘I’m afraid not,’ Cameron said.
‘Was a boat searched for?’ Siegfried asked.
Cameron looked at O’Leary, who reluctantly replied. ‘I didn’t know
anything about looking for a boat.’
‘What about when you relieved Hansen at eleven?’ Cameron asked. ‘When he
briefed you, did he mention he’d looked for a boat?’
‘Not a word, sir,’ O’Leary said.
Cameron swallowed. He turned to Siegfried. ‘I’ll just have to follow up
on this and get back to you later.’
‘In other words, no one looked for a goddamn boat!’ Siegfried snapped.
‘This is a comedy around here, but I’m not laughing.’
‘I gave specific orders for a search for a boat,’ Cameron said.
‘Obviously, orders are not enough, you lunkhead,’ Siegfried spat. ‘You
are supposed to be in charge. You are responsible.’
Siegfried closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He’d lost both groups.
All he could do at this point was have the colonel call the army post in
Acalayong in the unlikely event the escapees might land there. But
Siegfried was far from optimistic. He knew that if the tables were
turned and he’d been the one fleeing, he’d go to Gabon.
All of a sudden, Siegfried’s eyes popped open. Another thought occurred
to him: a more worrisome thought.
‘Is there a guard out at Isla Francesca?’ he asked.