Shadow Search. Don Pendleton

given any choice in the matter.”

      “I saw them bringing you out of the hotel.”

      “Which you just happened to be passing?”

      Jomo smiled. “I was on my way to see you.”

      “About?”

      “I was curious. Something made me want to know more about you.”

      “Such as?”

      “The real reason you are here in Tempala. I was just parking my car when I saw those two coming from the rear of the hotel dragging you along with them.”

      “Lucky for me you have a curious streak.”

      Jomo glanced at the bodies, then back at Bolan. “I think you’ve satisfied my curiosity here tonight. Especially why you are in Tempala.” Jomo stepped forward. “It wasn’t hard to overhear what you were saying. Now I’ll tell you something. If the president’s children have been taken, let me help. You’re going to need someone who knows the country. I was born on a farm and spent my childhood in the bush country.”

      Bolan held back only for a moment. “What about these terrorists? Any thoughts on where they might take the children?”

      “Out of the city, that’s for certain. Too many chances of being spotted if they stayed here. The children are known by the people. They would be recognized.”

      “Sounds logical. Do they have a base? A central place they operate from?”

      Jomo smiled. “My friend, this is Africa, not New York. The whole country is their base. Which is why they are hard to locate. These people live in the bush, move around as they have done for centuries. They can live off the land so they have no need for bases to store their food. They get water from the springs they know or from the water holes the animals use.”

      “I get the message. So where do we start?”

      “In the bush,” Jomo said.

      “What about these two? Any thoughts?”

      “I know the one you shot. Petty criminal. Native Kirandi. Been in prison a couple of times. Has a history of violence. He would have ended up shot sooner or later.”

      “Any political leanings?”

      Jomo shook his head. “He wasn’t the committed type. If you are asking if he was with the rebels I’d say no. Most likely he was hired to kill you because he was on the spot.”

      “Pretty much what I heard.”

      Jomo bent over the man and searched his pockets. He stood up again, waving a thick roll of banknotes. “Check Benjo. He’ll be carrying the same. He was a brother criminal.”

      Bolan found a similar roll of bills. He threw it to Jomo.

      “Plain and simple, Belasko. They were paid to make you disappear.”

      AS THEY DROVE BACK to the hotel in Jomo’s battered Land Rover, Bolan told the sergeant about Karima’s kids. He knew he could trust Jomo, and he needed someone with Jomo’s knowledge on his side. The light was starting to fail by the time they reached the hotel. The hard heat of the day had begun to fade as Jomo parked in a dark corner of the parking lot. Bolan went in and up to his room. Nothing had been touched. His captors had even closed the door when they had left, taking him with them. They must have used the fire escape to avoid being seen. He took the shoulder bag from the wardrobe. Bolan stripped and pulled on his blacksuit and boots. He spent a few minutes in the bathroom doctoring his head wound. He packed his weapons and gear into the backpack, then filled the canteen with water from the fridge. Slipping his cell phone into one of his zippered pockets he left the room and made his way back downstairs, using the fire escape. He walked around the side of the building and rejoined Jomo.

      The policeman took a look at the blacksuit. “Now you dress for business?”

      “Something like that,” Bolan replied.