Baako stopped for a moment and stared at Kara, trying to discern if she understood or knew anything he was talking about.
“So, you think that Afua will make the company a softer and gentler organization?” she asked, not sure how far to go with this.
“I don’t know if you know this or not, but my family is Christian. Afua is a Christian.”
Kara didn’t know whether to laugh or call him a liar. Her face must have given something away because Baako said, “I can tell that this information surprises you.”
He took in Kara’s look and continued, “You may not know this, but more than half of all Nigerians are Christian, and as a Christian, Afua wants to make it a much better company.”
Kara said nothing.
“All I’m asking is when you return, please tell your people that Afua is not like his predecessors. He is all about family, and our family will turn him from what he is now into a much better person. We will turn the company around. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?”
The smile returned to Kara’s face and she said, “I’m sorry, I just don’t follow or know what this has to do with me?”
This time, Baako didn’t return her smile. This time, he looked every bit as serious as his twin brother.
“I think you know what I mean, and I don’t have anything else to say on this subject.”
The rest of the meal was forced and uncomfortable. After a few bites of toast, Kara excused herself to use the bathroom, and then she sat on the couch. She turned on the TV and pretended to watch a soccer game.
Twenty minutes later, Afua emerged from his room. He was dressed in loose-fitting gray gym pants and an orange tourist T-shirt that read JAMAICA on the front in bright bold letters.
Afua nodded at Kara (his form of a morning greeting), and then he walked over to the sliding glass doors.
He slid open the door, stuck his head out and yelled to his brother, “I’m going to work out in the gym. I will see you after your morning swim. Maybe we can play some tennis.”
Kara heard him yell back to Afua, “Sounds good.”
Kara’s heart jumped, and she didn’t know what to do, but doing nothing was not an option.
Afua closed the sliding glass door and went into the kitchen. Kara pretended to watch the soccer game. She heard the refrigerator door open and heard glassware being set on the counter.
Her exchange with Afua’s brother had somewhat rattled her. If Baako thought that she was a spy, did Afua also? Had they compared notes? It was hard for her to understand how they could allow her to walk around their compound, free to go anywhere she wanted if they suspected she was an agent. But then there were security cameras in every room. She suspected that there were cameras in the bathrooms as well. After all, a lot of nefarious stuff can go on in a bathroom. They also knew that she was unarmed and didn’t have a communication device which further reduced her as a threat while she was on an island and inside a hardened compound. If they suspected she was a spy, at least for the time being she was no more of a threat to them than a snake without fangs. Kara guessed they had very little respect for women to begin with, so that might be a factor in this very weird scenario as well. There was not much she could do to cause them problems. It
wasn’t as if they left blueprints of their next terrorist mission laying out on the dining room table or had unsecured weapons laying around.
Afua walked by the couch behind Kara. From her peripheral vision, she saw him walk down one of the wide hallways and disappear.
Kara began to analyze the conversation she just had with Baako. It seemed nonsense Baako trying to convince her that his family were Christians. If he was serious, then she had entered the frickin’ twilight zone. Muslim terrorists did what they did because they were Muslim. She had never heard of a Christian terrorist leading a jihadi sect. And really, what difference did it make what religion Diambu practiced? He had killed innocent people. Why he did it was of little importance. Even if Baako could ensure Kara that his brother was going to change his ways, Afua was still a serial killer. Afua’s life was not dependent on what he was going to do in the future. His life, or termination of it, was dependent on what he had done in the past. Even if Afua became a monk and moved to a remote monastery, they would still track him down and take him out.
Kara heard the sliding glass door open and saw Baako walk into the living room. He walked up and stood behind Kara until she acknowledged his presence. Kara looked back over her shoulder. She noticed that Baako was wearing swim trunks and no shirt.
“Would you like to go for a swim?” he asked.
Kara smiled pleasantly and said, “No, but I would like to see the beach. I’ll walk down with you.”
Baako replied, “Very good. Let me get a towel, and I will be right back.”
Rond Point Port — Aboard the Hail Proton
The sun was coming up when Hail entered Hail Proton’s command center. Captain Mitch Nichols was already sitting in the big chair on the top tier. As Hail made his way up to the captain, he looked around and noticed all sixteen command stations were being manned by young men and women. Most of the big screens above the stations were lit up with video being streamed from several drones that were on station near Snake Island. There was a steady hum of animated chatter as the pilots talked amongst themselves. Everyone in the room appeared to be stoked, and the feeling was contagious. It infused Hail with excitement, as if he had been plugged into a human battery charger.
Captain Nichols began to get up from the big chair, but Hail put up his hand and told him, “No. That’s OK, Mitch. I feel like standing.” Nichols eased back into the chair and then checked the monitors mounted to his chair’s armrests.
“Status?” Hail asked the captain.
Nichols took a moment to compose his response and then informed Haiclass="underline" “Foreigner made a return run and dropped off Seagulls, which was refueled. One medium-class drone, code named Foo Fighters, also made the trip and is now stationary on the outskirts of the compound. It was set down in a clump of bushes and can’t been seen from the Diambu property or the beach. The drone was put to sleep to preserve batteries, and its solar array has been deployed to charge it. We have Foo Fighters on station just in case we need it. Foghat returned from Snake Island, refueled, and back on the rack in case it is required.”
“Good thinking,” Hail commented.
The captain continued, “Foreigner was set down on an abandoned strip of road in Isunba, just north of Snake Island. We didn’t park it underwater on the off-chance we need to get it airborne in a hurry. Foreigner is heavily armed, again, just in case we need the firepower.”
“Another great idea,” Hail said.
“Seagulls has been airborne for the last hour. Now that the sun is coming up, we are getting a clear video feed from its onboard cameras.”
Nichols pointed up at one of the monitors showing a video stream sent from the birdlike drone. Seagulls appeared to be flying over the water about 100 yards off the beach. An HD image of the beach and the path leading up to the compound was visible.
Hail noticed that several of the other large monitors above the control stations mirrored the same feed.
Captain Nichols continued with the status update. “And then, of course, we have Turtles in the same spot where we parked it yesterday. We are getting ready to wake up that drone. It has about 50 % battery power reserves left, and communications with the drone is five by five.”