Fever by V. K. Powell Page A

of her rants on social injustice and oppression. “You’re right, sir. But why did you go through our things?”
    The man’s face never changed, but he motioned for his men to lower their weapons. “We were searching for identification to verify your papers and purpose.”
    “If I may, Lieutenant. Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
    “You call me Lieutenant.”
    Neither the police force nor the military wore name tags, another method, Zak surmised, by which they could deny complaints. “Yes, Lieutenant, if I may get up, I’ll produce my identification, as will my friends.” She indicated that Ben and Sara should do the same. The look on Sara’s face said she wanted to do more than show her ID, but Zak gave her a cautionary stare.
    “Do so,” he responded.
    As Zak rose, she assessed their situation more fully. The lieutenant was a huge man in height and weight, his mass appearing entirely muscle. His skin was so dark it seemed to absorb the ebbing sunlight around him. Dark close-set eyes that showed no signs of life topped a wide nose and broad lips. This man had to be one of Wachira’s henchmen. They shared the same lack of respect and human courtesy. He was accompanied by six more officers, all heavily armed. This was more than a simple document check. They were here to make a statement.
    When Zak and the others offered their passports, three officers took them and retreated to their vehicles. The lieutenant addressed Sara. “So you are the Ambrosini woman who wishes to build a school for our poor, underprivileged children?” The fact that he knew this without looking at her credentials concerned Zak even more.
    Sara’s chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath and released a shaky sigh. Zak started to answer for her, but Sara waved her off. “Yes, sir. I’ve visited your country many times over the years and wanted to help. What better way than to educate the children, don’t you agree, Lieutenant?”
    His gaze swept boldly over Sara’s body before he answered. “Yes, indeed, children.” A few minutes of strained silence passed before his men returned with their passports and the group moved away from them, whispering among themselves. One of the officers waved a passport in Zak’s direction and the lieutenant stabbed her with his lifeless glare. Then he spoke to Sara again. “It seems we have a small problem.”
    “I wonder what that could be,” Zak asked, no longer concerned about her tone or its implication.
    Several of the lieutenant’s men edged closer to her, their posture more aggressive. “I was addressing Ms. Ambrosini.” The lieutenant remained focused on Sara. “We have no building permit or architectural plans on file for your school and no record that you paid the fees to begin work.”
    Zak started to move closer to the lieutenant but his men immediately surrounded her. “I get it, more cash.” This had Wachira’s money-grubbing signature all over it. If he could make a few extra bucks and irritate her at the same time, he’d consider it a good day.
    Sara touched Zak’s arm, her eyes pleading with her to be quiet. “Lieutenant, I paid the fees and filed the necessary paperwork, but I understand that things get lost. May I retrieve the copies from my luggage? I certainly want to comply with the law.”
    Her voice was smooth and silky like she was asking the man to dinner, not for permission to look for documents. And it seemed to be working, because the corners of the lieutenant’s mouth actually turned up in a small grin. “We do not accept copies, only originals, and they seem to be missing from the office.”
    “Then may I please have some time to rectify the problem? I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”
    “We do not wish to be unreasonable.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Sara replied.
    With a nod from their leader the officers returned to their vehicles. The lieutenant slapped the side of the jeep in which he was a passenger as they drove away, and it