Waiting was hell. Not only did the sky continue to get lighter and lighter, presaging imminent dawn and the possible appearance of the soldiers, but there was always the worry that the motorized canoe had disappeared. Jack and Warren nervously alternated between looking at each other and their watches, while fighting off clouds of insatiable insects. And on top of everything else, their exhaustion was total.

Just when they were thinking that something terrible had happened to the others, Kevin appeared at the edge of the reeds like a mirage and silently paddled in.

Warren scrambled into the canoe followed by Jack.

“The power boat’s okay?” Jack asked anxiously.

“At least it was there,” Kevin said. “I didn’t try to start the engine.”

They backed out of the reeds and started for the Rio Diviso. Unfortunately, there were lots of hippos and even a few crocodiles forcing them to paddle twice the usual distance just to keep clear.

Before they slipped into the foliage hiding the mouth of the jungle-lined river they caught a glimpse of some soldiers entering the clearing in the distance.

“Do you think they saw us?” Jack asked from his position in the bow.

“There’s no way to know,” Kevin said.

“We’re getting out of here by the skin of our teeth,” Jack said.

The waiting was as hard on the women as it had been on Jack and Warren. When the small canoe pulled alongside, there were literal tears of relief.

The final worry was the outboard motor. Jack agreed to attend to it because of his experience with similar engines as a teenager. While he checked it over, the others paddled the heavy canoe out of the reeds into the open water.

Jack pumped the gas, then with a little prayer, pulled the cord.

The engine sputtered and caught. It was loud in the morning stillness. Jack looked at Laurie. She smiled and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

Jack put the motor in gear, gave it a full throttle, and steered directly south, where they could see Gabon as a line of green along the horizon.

EPILOGUE

March 18, 1997

3:45 P.M.

New York City

Lou Soldano glanced at his watch as he flashed his police badge to get him into the Customs area of the international arrivals building at Kennedy Airport. He’d hit more traffic than he’d expected in the midtown tunnel, and hoped he was not too late to greet the returning world travelers.

Going up to one of the skycaps, he asked which carousel was Air France.

“Way down the end, brother,” the skycap said with a wave of his hand.

Just my luck, thought Lou as he broke into a slow jog. After a short distance he slowed, and for the one millionth time vowed to stop smoking.

As he got closer, it was easy to see which carousel he was looking for. Air France in block letters showed on a monitor. Around it, the people were four deep.

Lou made a half circuit before seeing the group. Even though they were facing away, he could recognize Laurie’s hair.