41

Alpha team fell silent as Colonel Black marched into the operations room. The stiff measured stride and grim expression on his face told them he wasn’t delivering good news.

“Take a seat, everyone,” he instructed, his voice rough from a night of no sleep.

Exchanging anxious looks, they hurried to their places. Charley rolled to the front, braced for the worst.

“This is the situation,” said the colonel. “The Burundian president has been assassinated in an ambush. The army found the remnants of his safari convoy in sector four of the park, some twenty miles from the lodge.”

Colonel Black tapped a command on his tablet computer. Wirelessly linked to the wide-screen wall monitors, a satellite image of a dried-out riverbed appeared on the display. The resolution was low, but the scene was clear enough. Four immobilized vehicles, one of which was overturned and burned out, another no more than a smoking charred shell. A bomb crater from a rocket-propelled grenade was also visible.

“What are the dark blobs?” asked Jason, squinting at the screen.

“Bodies,” replied the colonel.

The mood of the room dropped another notch.

“Are there . . . any survivors?” asked Charley.

The colonel nodded. “The major general reports that two ministers and their wives were rescued from the lodge, where they were being held prisoner by members of the Armée Nationale de la Liberté led by General Pascal, aka the Black Mamba.”

“But what about Connor and the Barbier family?” pressed Ling.

“That we don’t know,” the colonel admitted with a heavy sigh. “The ambush site is still being investigated by the army. If they were in one of the burned-out vehicles, it’ll take some time to identify the bodies.”

Choking back her rising emotion, Charley asked, “Don’t the survivors know what happened to them?”

“Not according to the major general. The ministers fled during the initial phase of the ambush only to be caught later. There is some hope, though. One of the Land Rovers from the safari convoy is missing.”

“So you think Connor may have gotten away?” questioned Richie.

“That’s the scenario I’d like to believe. And the one we’re going to work to. However, forty-eight hours have passed since the ambush with no communication from Connor. From that, we can presume four possibilities: one, he’s in hiding; two, he has since been captured; three, he is lying injured somewhere; or, worst-case scenario, he’s . . .” The colonel didn’t need to finish the sentence for Alpha team to guess the fourth and final possibility.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Ling.

“The Burundian army has taken back the lodge from the rebels,” Colonel Black explained. “The major general is sending in reinforcements, and his army has begun a sector-by-sector search of the park. If Connor or any of the Barbiers are still alive, they’ll find them.”

Charley raised her hand. “I think one of the team needs to fly out there and help with the search.”

“I agree,” said the colonel.

“Then I volunteer.”

Colonel Black emphatically shook his head.

Charley frowned at him. “Is it because I’m in a wheelchair you won’t send me?”

The colonel shot her an affronted look. “I appreciate you’re upset, Charley, but you know me better than that. The fact is I wouldn’t send any of you to a country that’s on the verge of a civil war.”

“But we need somebody on the ground,” Charley insisted.

“You’re not going and that’s an order.”

“So who is going?” asked Jason.

“I am.”

The colonel handed out folders as he headed for the door. “Here are your individual tasks. I depart in one hour for Burundi and want updates from all of you by the time I leave.”

As Alpha team digested their assignments, Charley stared at the satellite image of the burned-out vehicles surrounded by countless dark blobs. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

“Don’t worry,” said Ling, putting an arm around her. “Connor’s a survivor.”