together, they made a very impressive traveling party. The three steeds ran to the limit of their energy and then at last slowed down, staggering, heavy, and dripping with sweat.
"Djibo straight ahead," said Paaté. "Look, there's the phone tower."
Jake strained his eyes and was just able to make out the slender tower. He took his phone from his money belt, and sure enough, there was one bar of network coverage, then two, then three.
"Kas!" he cried. "I've got a signal!" He took both reins in his right hand and used his left to dial the embassy. Dad was a morning person and was sure to be up by now. In fact, he was probably finding it difficult to sleep at all. Sure enough, Mr. Knight answered the phone after only one ring.
"Dad!" cried Jake. "It's me."
The white stallion came cantering up, and Yakuuba snatched the phone out of his hand. "No phone calls," said the outlaw. "I have learned not to trust telephones."
"That was my father," said Jake. "I was going to let him know what's happening. I was going to tell him that you were not responsible for our kidnapping."
"He would not have believed you," said Yakuuba. "This afternoon I will meet your father face to face, and then he will believe."
Twenty-Two
Dexter! " Mr. Knight knocked on the door of the spare room. "Wake up! Wake up, I tell you."
Dexter opened the door in his boxer shorts. He was bleary-eyed and his face was framed by greasy curls. Mr. Knight was shocked to see there were three cruel diagonal scars across his chest.
"What do you want?" said Dexter.
"I'm sorry," said the ambassador. "I didn't mean to stare. But are thoseâ?"
"Turkmenistan, yes. And I have learned my lesson."
"Jake phoned."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. Sor must have taken the phone off him."
"Pity." The MI6 officer yawned and rubbed his unshaven chin.
"The point is, Dexter, the phone is back in range of a tower. We have a fix."
"Excellent." There it was again, that gleam of fear in the man's eyes.
"I have already told Commissioner Beogo the news," said Mr. Knight. "He is sending a driver to pick you up."
Dexter darted back into his room, grabbed his beetle tin, and opened the lid a fraction. "Xena, my beauty, we have a fix, which means your time has come. Today you will assist in the disincentivization of Yakuuba Sor."
"That is secondary," said Mr. Knight. "Your primary objective, remember, is the rescue of my children."
"Rescue," murmured Dexter. "Of course."
A horn sounded outside the gate.
"There's your driver," said Mr. Knight. "I suggest you put some clothes on."
Twenty-Three
Nearly there!" shouted Paaté.
"Faster!" cried Yakuuba Sor. "There is only one bus every day, and we must not miss it!"
Jake spurred his horse and led the charge along a sandy track. On either side the fields flashed by, interspersed with clusters of dome-shaped dwellings. The sun shone on Jake's face and the air blew deep into his lungs, but he was still angry about his phone. How dare Yakuuba snatch it off him like that? What was so bad about letting Dad know they were on their way home?
The more Jake thought about it, the less he trusted Sor. Even if he was not a kidnapper, he was still an outlaw.
Outlaws are thieves and murderers, and there is not a speck of cool in any of them.
In front of them loomed a metal water tower and a WELCOME TO DJIBO sign. Beyond that a vast herd of cows milled about.
"Customs post," said Yakuuba, slowing to a trot. "They're counting cows."
"Why?"
"There is a government tax on all movement of livestock. Yesterday was market day, when rich traders come to Djibo to buy cows. Today those rich traders will employ poor cattle herders to walk the cows to Ouagadougou."
"They walk all the way from here to Ouaga? How long does that take?"
"Eight days," said Yakuuba. "I should knowâI used to do it for a living. Every alternate Thursday I'd be right here at the cow count, waiting to set off on another one-hundred-fifty-mile walk."
Jake looked at the
"Djibo straight ahead," said Paaté. "Look, there's the phone tower."
Jake strained his eyes and was just able to make out the slender tower. He took his phone from his money belt, and sure enough, there was one bar of network coverage, then two, then three.
"Kas!" he cried. "I've got a signal!" He took both reins in his right hand and used his left to dial the embassy. Dad was a morning person and was sure to be up by now. In fact, he was probably finding it difficult to sleep at all. Sure enough, Mr. Knight answered the phone after only one ring.
"Dad!" cried Jake. "It's me."
The white stallion came cantering up, and Yakuuba snatched the phone out of his hand. "No phone calls," said the outlaw. "I have learned not to trust telephones."
"That was my father," said Jake. "I was going to let him know what's happening. I was going to tell him that you were not responsible for our kidnapping."
"He would not have believed you," said Yakuuba. "This afternoon I will meet your father face to face, and then he will believe."
Twenty-Two
Dexter! " Mr. Knight knocked on the door of the spare room. "Wake up! Wake up, I tell you."
Dexter opened the door in his boxer shorts. He was bleary-eyed and his face was framed by greasy curls. Mr. Knight was shocked to see there were three cruel diagonal scars across his chest.
"What do you want?" said Dexter.
"I'm sorry," said the ambassador. "I didn't mean to stare. But are thoseâ?"
"Turkmenistan, yes. And I have learned my lesson."
"Jake phoned."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. Sor must have taken the phone off him."
"Pity." The MI6 officer yawned and rubbed his unshaven chin.
"The point is, Dexter, the phone is back in range of a tower. We have a fix."
"Excellent." There it was again, that gleam of fear in the man's eyes.
"I have already told Commissioner Beogo the news," said Mr. Knight. "He is sending a driver to pick you up."
Dexter darted back into his room, grabbed his beetle tin, and opened the lid a fraction. "Xena, my beauty, we have a fix, which means your time has come. Today you will assist in the disincentivization of Yakuuba Sor."
"That is secondary," said Mr. Knight. "Your primary objective, remember, is the rescue of my children."
"Rescue," murmured Dexter. "Of course."
A horn sounded outside the gate.
"There's your driver," said Mr. Knight. "I suggest you put some clothes on."
Twenty-Three
Nearly there!" shouted Paaté.
"Faster!" cried Yakuuba Sor. "There is only one bus every day, and we must not miss it!"
Jake spurred his horse and led the charge along a sandy track. On either side the fields flashed by, interspersed with clusters of dome-shaped dwellings. The sun shone on Jake's face and the air blew deep into his lungs, but he was still angry about his phone. How dare Yakuuba snatch it off him like that? What was so bad about letting Dad know they were on their way home?
The more Jake thought about it, the less he trusted Sor. Even if he was not a kidnapper, he was still an outlaw.
Outlaws are thieves and murderers, and there is not a speck of cool in any of them.
In front of them loomed a metal water tower and a WELCOME TO DJIBO sign. Beyond that a vast herd of cows milled about.
"Customs post," said Yakuuba, slowing to a trot. "They're counting cows."
"Why?"
"There is a government tax on all movement of livestock. Yesterday was market day, when rich traders come to Djibo to buy cows. Today those rich traders will employ poor cattle herders to walk the cows to Ouagadougou."
"They walk all the way from here to Ouaga? How long does that take?"
"Eight days," said Yakuuba. "I should knowâI used to do it for a living. Every alternate Thursday I'd be right here at the cow count, waiting to set off on another one-hundred-fifty-mile walk."
Jake looked at the
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