Roland revved the pickup’s engine a few times, just to make certain his exit was as noisy and dramatic as his entrance.
After the vehicle thundered out of the village, Max turned to Charl and Isabl.
“We need to pack up your Land Rover.”
“With what, exactly?” asked Charl.
“One complete solar panel kit. One complete wind turbine kit.”
“And where are we taking them?” asked Isabl.
“Straight to Moise Kabila,” said Max. “I’ve heard rumors that he’s having trouble charging his cell phones.”
“Max?” said Charl. “What are you thinking?”
“That the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she said. “Excuse me. I need to have a quick team meeting.”
She hiked over to the open field where the six remaining CMI kids were working with the newly arrived solar panels, setting them up to create Siobhan’s micro-grid.
“You guys?” said Max. “Bad news.”
“What?” said Keeto. “We’re eating bugs for dinner again?”
Max shook her head. “No. This is serious. Klaus and Vihaan have been kidnapped. Yahav is a spy. A double agent.”
“Who’s he working for?” demanded Siobhan.
“A bunch of greedy bad guys who call themselves the Corp. They’re, basically, for everything we’re against and against everything we’re for.”
“How much is the ransom demand?” asked Annika. “I’m confident our benefactor can afford to pay it, no matter the amount.”
“If he can’t,” added Tisa, “my father will.”
Max shook her head. “They’re not interested in money.”
“I thought you said they were greedy,” said Keeto.
“They are. But they’re playing the high-tech long game. They’re not looking for a quick payday.”
“So, what do we do?” asked Tisa. “My father has many contacts and business associates here in the Congo. He knows military people, too. Perhaps he could be of assistance.”
“Thanks for the offer,” said Max, “but we need to move faster than that. I have an idea. I just need a couple volunteers.”
“Will there be butt-kicking involved?” asked Keeto.
“Not really,” said Max. “More like diplomacy.”
“Oh. Okay. Soft power’s cool, too. Count me in.”
“Me, too,” said Tisa. “Africa is my home. I want our work here to succeed. I also miss Vihaan. And Klaus, of course. Vihaan more, but, well…”
Max actually smiled. “Charl and Isabl will be coming with us. They’ll be armed, like always. But I think the folks we’ll be visiting on our diplomatic mission might have more weapons.”
“And, uh, who exactly is that?” asked Keeto.
“Moise Kabila and his men.”
“So, there might actually be some butt-kicking. Only the butts being kicked will be ours?”
“I hope not,” said Max.
“Whatevs,” said Keeto. “I’m still in.”
“Me, too,” said Tisa.
Thirty minutes later, the Land Rover was loaded up with the two power-generating kits. Max, Tisa, and Keeto climbed into the backseats. Isabl took the wheel. Charl rode shotgun. Literally.
“So how do we find Kabila?” asked Keeto.
“We take his toll road,” said Max. “And hope the toll collectors are on duty today.”
Isabl piloted the vehicle down the rutted road to Lubumbashi. It was empty for ten miles.
And then they reached a roadblock.
Seven masked men, two with rifles raised, all with ammunition belts crisscrossing their chests, stood in the middle of the road in front of their parked vehicle. Their small truck straddled both lanes, making the roadway impassable.
“Here we go,” said Max as Isabl eased the Land Rover to a pebble-crunching stop. Max yanked up on her door handle.
“I’m coming with you,” said Charl.
“No,” said Max. “Wait here. They outgun us. I just hope we can outtalk them.”
“Then I’m coming, too,” said Tisa, pulling up on her door handle. “You might need a translator.”
She and Tisa stepped out of the car.
“Salamu, ndugu,” said Tisa, speaking Swahili.
One of the men laughed and racked his rifle.
“We are not your brothers, little girl! We are your worst nightmare!”