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Back The Missing American Save as PDF
Chapters (109)
  1. Part One
  2. ONE
  3. One day earlier
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. PART TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  81. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  82. SEVENTY-NINE
  83. EIGHTY
  84. EIGHTY-ONE
  85. EIGHTY-TWO
  86. EIGHTY-THREE
  87. EIGHTY-FOUR
  88. EIGHTY-FIVE
  89. EIGHTY-SIX
  90. EIGHTY-SEVEN
  91. EIGHTY-EIGHT
  92. EIGHTY-NINE
  93. NINETY
  94. NINETY-ONE
  95. NINETY-TWO
  96. NINETY-THREE
  97. NINETY-FOUR
  98. NINETY-FIVE
  99. NINETY-SIX
  100. NINETY-SEVEN
  101. NINETY-EIGHT
  102. NINETY-NINE
  103. GLOSSARY
  104. Acknowledgments
  105. Continue reading
  106. Part One
  107. ONE
  108. TWO
  109. THREE

Another minute and the muscle twins might have thrown Gordon out, but Yahya had ushered him away in time to prevent such an occurrence. Initially after the meeting with Ponsu, Gordon had been despondent, bitter, and at his wit’s end. What was he doing here in Ghana? What was the point of it all? He wanted to go back home to DC. He had been here six weeks and that was long enough.

But yesterday, his resolve began to creep back with a little help from Cas, who reminded Gordon that he had never been a quitter. That was true, and in fact, now Gordon was feeling more in command and he had a lot more fight in him. He felt he had a mission to complete.

The cigarette had kept the mosquitoes at bay, but now that Gordon was done with it, he could feel and hear them mounting an attack. He went back inside the chalet and got into bed, turning over several times as he tried to get comfortable. He drifted off and wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep before he woke to a light tapping on the front door. What, or who, was that?

He got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. It was definitely someone knocking. A male voice said, “Mr. Tilson?”

“Yes?” he answered warily. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Labram, please.”

“Uh, is something wrong?”

“Small problem, please.”

“Oh? Well, yes. Sure.”

Gordon unlocked the door, looked out cautiously and saw the silhouettes of two men.

One of them had a club, which he swung hard against Gordon’s skull.

FIFTY-SEVEN

FIFTY-SEVEN

May 28, Akosombo, Ghana

Zacharia and his son Solomon had paddled upriver in their sixteen-foot canoe. The Adome Bridge was straight ahead. Eleven in the morning, the sun was powerful but not yet at full strength. Solomon was at the stern steering while Zacharia at the bow was casting the net.

They were halfway between banks near a thicket of river weeds so dense it appeared solid. A few other canoes—single- and two-man—were out on the river at various distances.

The bright reflection off the water reduced visibility, but Solomon made out a grayish mound nestled in the weeds.

“Papa,” he said.

“Yes?” Zacharia answered, looking back.

Solomon pointed and his father followed his finger to the mound.

“Bola,” he concluded.

“No,” Solomon said, turning the canoe and paddling for the island.

“Agh,” Zacharia said with annoyance. “Where are you going?”

Solomon said nothing and sidled the canoe up to the bundle. When he poked it with a stick, it barely moved. They detected a stench now. A bag of dead fish? But that made no sense.

Solomon leaned over to tug at the object, which was heavier and larger than it seemed. Most of it was beneath the surface and appeared to be attached to the weed clump.

“We have to pull it to the shore,” Zacharia said, getting into the water.