Page 51 of Shadow Target

Zere kept as low a profile as possible, blending in among the workers, keeping his ears open and his mouth shut. Why, he’d even brushed elbows with the red-haired American pilot Willow Chamberlin and her copilot, Dev Mitchell. He’d noted down the pilots’ daily, grueling schedule. Another key point Zere had discovered was the presence of a male security guard who always flew with the two pilots and was, in essence, their constant bodyguard, and a fly in his side’s collective ointment. Tefere knew that the operator was more than likely an ex-SEAL, based on what he’d heard from Zere. The man carried a particular type of pistol, a Sig Sauer P226 MK25, that only SEALs utilized. An intimidating weapon indeed. It didn’t even have a safety on it so, in the right hands, it was deadly. A cartridge was always chambered and all the operator had to do was draw, point and shoot, in one smooth, unbroken motion. No doubt about it, this bodyguard was ex-SEAL as far as Zere was concerned. This made him maintain a very low profile to not draw any unwanted attention to himself as he memorized the layout of the plane, its daily routine, flying hours, and its loading and unloading schedule.

He was much less identifiable now, especially if spotted briefly by chance. He was betting that the Delos people had provided photos of Tefere not only to that security operator, but also to the two pilots. The new beard would throw them off from a distance. But this was largely a backup precaution; in any case, his leader wasn’t about to show his face to anyone; remaining hidden within the many rows and stacks of crates lining the warehouse. He was ensconced, sitting pretty. No one knew Zere’s face or his background. Now, all he had to do was remain inconspicuous and wait for the right opening to put his leader’s plan into action.

Terefe saw Zere’s worried expression. A lot was riding on his young lieutenant to carry off this charade. Saying nothing, he watched Zere leave and walk down the main aisle toward today’s work assignment. Mind turning to the future, he knew there were hills of various elevations on the eastern side of the lake, and therein lay the small town of Zegye, nestled within the thick pine forest, hacked from which was a short dirt runway the perfect length on which to land the Otter. This was the village where the Delos construction team was currently working, and where their equipment was being flown into. Tefere already had his two Toyota Hilux’s in place nearby, packed full of his soldiers armed and ready to take either one or both pilots as prisoners. He would like nothing better than to get both women and escape via the main highway out of Bahir Dar, and then drive the straight into Somalia. There, he’d present them to his adoptive father. In a Zoom session with the warlord yesterday, Cumar Hanad had been excited because two of the most prolific sex traffickers in all of Europe and Asia were visiting him. Tefere desperately wanted to parade the red-haired American woman before them all, thus boosting his ego, his power, and his wallet. If he could get the second pilot, the brown-haired American woman as a bonus, that would be an unexpected and incredible coup! The sex traffickers already wanted to buy one or both of them. Although Cumar had originally planned to livestream the red-haired woman’s beheading on the internet, the two sex traffickers were already in a bidding war to buy her for their own needs, so she had to be kept alive and useful to them. Someone like this woman, the warlord had told Tefere, would go for millions of U.S. dollars on their dark web marketplace. Cumar would make a fortune on the deal, and of course, having captured them, Tefere would be handsomely rewarded, too.

Tefere didn’t care what happened to the women. He only wanted the money and the power status that would come with a successful abduction. His star would rise with Cumar, and that meant more money pouring into his efforts here in Ethiopia. The tempo of the construction materials’ transfer from the warehouse to the Otter, the loading time, and the time it took the Otter to fly from Bahir Dar to either Addis Zemen or Zegye and back, were all scribbled down in his notebook. They were making six to eight flights a day, feeding the demands of the construction work at the two villages. For now? He would wait for an opportunity to pounce. And, sooner or later, it would come.

***

Willow missed Shep being in her condo, in her life. It was a Tuesday in early December, and the demands of the work had been grueling. He was gone five days a week, sometimes six or even all seven, depending upon how construction was coming along at the Addis Zemen and Zegye sites. She was preparing to leave her condo, dressed in her blue one-piece flight suit, grabbing her go bag, when her cell phone rang.

“Willow here.” Only a very few people had her personal number.

“Dev here. Hey, I’m sicker than a dog. That new security woman who’s staying with me? Ginny Long? She’s got a fever of one-hundred-four and I’m one hundred and three. I’m calling the doctor, and I’ll get him to come out here and see what the hell we have. I can’t fly today, Willow.”

“Bummer,” she muttered. “So, your new security detail is down, too?”

“Yes. We think it’s from food poisoning. I bought some Ethiopian food from a street vendor last night, and I think that’s what nailed us. We’re heaving our guts out and have uncontrollable diarrhea. Maybe the doctor can give us something for it. You aren’t going to have a copilot for today, sorry.”

“No worries. Call the doc, Dev. I can do the flights today and handle all the rest on my own, no problem.”

“Are you sure? Is that safe?”

“Absolutely. Shep needs what we’re bringing in today more than ever. I can’t sit on the tarmac and not fly because of a sick security guard. You know how this goes.”

Sighing, Dev said, “Yes, I do. I’m so sorry to leave you in the lurch. Can Luke fly with you as security?”

“He’s at Addis Zemen full time now. Shep is back and forth between that village and Zegye. There’s been a couple of incursions by, he thinks, Tefere David’s soldiers, trying to steal the material that’s been flown in. So, he’s busy with his security people, stopping the steal before it happens.”

“Bummer, I forgot about that angle.”

“I’ll be fine,” Willow said confidently. “We’ve got the whole system down pat now at the airport. You two just rest, drink lots of water and keep hydrated, get that doctor out to help. I’m sure by the time I come home at dusk, you’ll feel a lot better.”

“I hope so,” Dev grumbled. “Just take care, Willow. Stay alert. You got your .45 on you?”

Laughing, she said, “Yes, oh great Mother Hen of the Sky, I’m armed to the teeth. Stop being SUCH a worrywart!”

They both laughed.

“I’ll call you tonight,” Willow promised, grabbing her sack lunch and stuffing it into her go bag. Locking the condo door, she headed for the elevator, the dawn barely visible on the eastern horizon, a thin strip of gauzy golden color against the black night sky. In no time, she was in her vehicle, speeding toward the airport. There were layers of security to go through and she kept her identification around her neck so she could get waved through quickly by the Ethiopian gate security people.

The Otter was out of the hangar after going through its one-hundred-hour flight inspection by trained engine mechanics last night. She saw the warehouse truck backed up to the rear hatch, and four men offloading materials from it and placing them in the long storage space of the workhorse plane’s interior fuselage. After pulling up on the side of the hangar and parking, grabbing her gear, she walked quickly to the plane, recognizing all the men who were doing the offloading. She smiled and halted.

“Hey,” she called, holding up a sack, “pastis for all of you,” and she handed it to the foreman of the truck. “There’s one for each of you.” Pastis was a beloved Ethiopian pastry made of fried bread, looking somewhat like a donut without the hole. She always bought them a sack from a nearby bakery before the first flight out of the day, knowing how hard they were going to work until dusk for Delos. The foreman, a man in his fifties with steel-gray and black hair, took the sack, smiling. He had three front teeth missing.

“Thank you,” he said in stilted English. He held up the bag to the other three, hollering in Ethiopian that there would be pastis waiting for them after they got the plane loaded. The foreman turned back to her, nodding his thanks, his dark-brown eyes sparkling. “You take good care of us, Miss Willow.”

She grinned and pulled herself up into the rear of the plane. “Well, you guys always earn them. Hey, can I have one of your men come along with me? I’m short two people today. I’ll need someone to help offload at the other end. Maybe give the guy a little extra money for today?”

“But,” the foreman said, looking around, “where is Miss Dev and her woman friend?”

“Sick with food poisoning,” Willow told him. “She’ll be okay by tomorrow most likely, though. I just need an extra pair of hands to help unload the supplies at the other end, is all.” Usually, Ginny and Dev helped with that on each trip. There wasn’t anything on this trip that two people couldn’t lift and carry to the rear hatch door and hand off to the awaiting construction workers.

“I DO!”

Willow saw a tall man, ropy-muscled, come forward, raising his hand. “Okay,” she said.

The foreman said, “Willow, this is Zere. He is big and strong. He is originally from Somalia. Doesn’t speak much else. But he knows work. He can do the work of two women,” and he laughed, slapping the workman on the back good naturedly.

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