“We want to tour the GenSys facility,” Jack said. “Do you think we’ll have any trouble?”

“They don’t expect you?” Arturo asked with bewilderment.

“Nope,” Jack said. “It’s a surprise visit.”

“Then you may have trouble,” Arturo said. “I don’t think they like visitors. When they repaired the only road to Cogo, they built a gate. It’s manned twenty-four hours a day by soldiers.”

“Uh-oh!” Jack said. “That doesn’t sound good.” He’d not expected restricted access to the town and had counted on being able to drive in directly. Where he expected to have trouble was getting into the hospital or the labs.

“When Esteban called to say you were going to Cogo, I thought you’d been invited,” Arturo said. “I didn’t think to mention the gate.”

“I understand,” Jack said. “It’s not your fault. Tell me, do you think the soldiers would take money to let us in?”

Arturo flashed a glance in Jack’s direction. He shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re better paid than regular soldiers.”

“How far is the gate from the town?” Jack asked. “Could someone walk through the forest and just pass the gate?”

Arturo glanced at Jack again. The conversation had taken a turn in a direction he’d not expected.

“It is quite far,” Arturo said, evincing some unease. “Maybe five kilometers. And it is not easy to walk in the jungle. It can be dangerous.”

“And there is only one road?” Jack asked.

“Only one road,” Arturo agreed.

“I saw on a map that Cogo is on the water,” Jack said. “What about arriving by boat?”

“I suppose,” Arturo said.

“Where could someone find a boat?” Jack asked.

“In Acalayong,” Arturo said. “There are many boats there. That’s how to go to Gabon.”

“And there would be boats to rent?” Jack asked.

“With enough money,” Arturo said.

They were now passing through the center of Bata. It was composed of surprisingly broad tree-lined, litter-strewn streets. There were lots of people out and about but relatively few vehicles. The buildings were all low concrete structures.

On the south side of town, they turned off the main street and made their way along a rutted unpaved road. There were large puddles from a recent rain.

The hotel was an unimposing two-story concrete building with rusted rebars sticking out the top for potential future upward expansion. The façade had been painted blue but the color had faded to an indistinct pastel.

The moment they stopped, an army of congenial children and adults emerged from the front door. Everyone was introduced down to the youngest, shy child. It turned out that several multigenerational families lived on the first floor. The second floor was the hotel.

The rooms turned out to be tiny but clean. They were all situated on the outside of the U-shaped building. Access was by way of a veranda open to the courtyard. There was a toilet and a shower on each end of the “U.”

After putting his bag in his room and appreciating the mosquito netting around the inordinately narrow bed, Jack went out onto the veranda. Laurie came out of her room. Together, they leaned on the balustrade and peered down into the courtyard. It was an interesting combination of banana trees, discarded tires, naked infants, and chickens.