Anger coursed through Siegfried’s body like a bolt of electricity. Ducking back inside his bedroom, he called Cameron and ordered the security director to meet him over at Kevin’s. Siegfried slammed the phone down. He pulled on his clothes. As he left the house he grabbed one of his old hunting carbines.

Siegfried walked directly across the green. The closer he got to Kevin’s, the louder the music became. The soldiers were in a puddle of light beneath a bare light bulb. Sprinkled across the ground at their feet were numerous empty bottles of wine. Two of the soldiers were singing along with the music while playing imaginary instruments. The other two appeared to have passed out.

By the time Siegfried got to the scene, Cameron’s car had careened down the cobblestone street and screeched to a halt. Cameron jumped out. He was still buttoning his shirt as he approached Siegfried. He glanced at the inebriated soldiers and was clearly appalled.

Cameron started to apologize when Siegfried cut him off. “Forget about explanations and excuses,” he said. “Get upstairs and make sure Mr. Marshall and his two friends are tucked in for the night.”

Cameron touched the tip of hat in faint salute. He disappeared up the stairs. Siegfried could hear him pounding on the door. A moment later, several lights went on in the living quarters.

Siegfried fumed as he watched the soldiers. They hadn’t even noticed his presence or Cameron’s.

Cameron came back looking pale and shaking his head. “They’re not there.”

Siegfried tried to control his anger enough to think. The level of incompetence with which he had to work was astounding.

“What about his LandCruiser?” Siegfried snapped.

“I’ll check,” Cameron said. He ran back, literally pushing his way through the singing soldiers. He returned almost instantly. “It’s gone.”

“What a surprise!” Siegfried said sarcastically. Then he snapped his fingers and motioned toward Cameron’s car.

Siegfried got in the front seat while Cameron climbed in behind the wheel.

“Call and alert your security force,” Siegfried ordered. “I want Kevin’s car found immediately. And call the gate. Make sure it hasn’t left the Zone. Meanwhile, take me to town hall.”

Cameron used his car phone as he maneuvered his vehicle around the block. Both numbers were stored in his phone’s autodialer so it was a hands-free operation. Stomping on the accelerator, he headed north.

By the time they neared the town hall, the official search for Kevin’s car had been initiated. It was readily determined that the vehicle had not tried to go through the gate. As they turned into the parking lot both heard the music.

“Uh-oh!” Cameron said.

Siegfried stayed silent. He was trying to prepare himself for what he now suspected.

Cameron pulled to a halt at the building. His headlights picked up the debris that had resulted when the bar frames had been yanked out of the wall. The pile of chain was visible.

“This is a disaster,” Siegfried said with a tremulous voice. He stepped out of the car with the carbine. Although he had to hold the gun with one hand, he was an accomplished marksman. In quick succession he pulled off three rounds and three of the empty wine bottles on the windowsill of the army post burst into shards of glass. But the music did not falter.

Gripping the gun tightly in his good hand, Siegfried went over to the army-post window and looked in. The cassette player was on the desk with its volume pegged at max. The four soldiers were passed out either on the floor or slouched in the rickety furniture.

Siegfried raised the gun. He pulled the trigger and the cassette player flew off the desk. In an instant, the scene was thrust into a painful silence.

Siegfried went back to Cameron. “Call the colonel of the garrison. Tell him what has happened. Tell him I want these men court-martialed. Tell him to get a contingent of soldiers here immediately with a vehicle.”

“Yes, sir!” Cameron intoned.

Siegfried stepped beneath the arcade and looked at the bars that had been pulled from the jail-cell windows. They were hand forged. Looking at the openings, he could tell why they’d come out so easily. The mortar between the bricks under the stucco had turned to sand.

To get himself under control, Siegfried walked all the way around the town hall. By the time he rounded the final corner, headlights were coming along the road. They turned into the parking lot. With screeching tires the security patrol car came to a halt next to Cameron’s car, and the duty officer jumped out.

Siegfried cursed under his breath as he approached. With Kevin and the women plus the Americans missing, the bonobo project was in serious jeopardy. They had to be found.

“Mr. Spallek,” Cameron said. “I have some information. Officer O’Leary thinks he saw Kevin Marshall’s car ten minutes ago. Of course, we can quickly confirm it if it is still there.”

“Where?” Siegfried asked.

“In the lot by the Chickee Hut Bar,” O’Leary said. “I noticed it on my last tour.”

“Did you see any people?”

“No, sir! Not a soul.”

“There’s supposed to be a guard down there,” Siegfried said. “Did you see him?”

“Not really, sir,” O’Leary said.

“What do you mean ‘not really’?” Siegfried growled. He was fed up with incompetence.

“We don’t make it a point to pay much attention to the soldiers,” O’Leary said.

Siegfried looked off in the distance. In a further attempt to control his anger, he forced himself to notice how the moonlight reflected off the vegetation. The beauty calmed him to a degree, and he reluctantly admitted that he didn’t pay much attention to the soldiers, either. Rather than serving any truly utilitarian purpose, they were just there; one of the costs of doing business with the Equatoguinean government. But why would Kevin’s car be at the Chickee Hut Bar? Then it dawned on him.

“Cameron, was it determined how the Americans got into town?” Siegfried asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Cameron said.

“Was a boat searched for?” Siegfried asked.

Cameron looked at O’Leary, who reluctantly replied. “I didn’t know anything about looking for a boat.”

“What about when you relieved Hansen at eleven?” Cameron asked. “When he briefed you, did he mention he’d looked for a boat?”

“Not a word, sir,” O’Leary said.

Cameron swallowed. He turned to Siegfried. “I’ll just have to follow up on this and get back to you later.”

“In other words, no one looked for a goddamn boat!” Siegfried snapped. “This is a comedy around here, but I’m not laughing.”

“I gave specific orders for a search for a boat,” Cameron said.

“Obviously, orders are not enough, you lunkhead,” Siegfried spat. “You are supposed to be in charge. You are responsible.”

Siegfried closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He’d lost both groups. All he could do at this point was have the colonel call the army post in Acalayong in the unlikely event the escapees might land there. But Siegfried was far from optimistic. He knew that if the tables were turned and he’d been the one fleeing, he’d go to Gabon.

All of a sudden, Siegfried’s eyes popped open. Another thought occurred to him: a more worrisome thought.

“Is there a guard out at Isla Francesca?” he asked.

“No, sir. None was requested.”

“What about at the bridge on the mainland?” Siegfried persisted.

“There was until you ordered it removed,” Cameron said.

“Then, we’re going right now,” Siegfried said. He started for Cameron’s car. As he did so, three vehicles sped down the street and turned into the parking lot. They were army jeeps. They swooped over to the two parked vehicles and stopped. All of them were filled with soldiers bristling with guns.

From the front jeep stepped Colonel Mongomo. In contrast to the slovenly soldiers, he was impeccably attired in his martial finery complete with medals. Despite the fact that it was night, he wore aviator sunglasses. He saluted Siegfried stiffly and said he was at his service.