“This is a much better road,” Warren commented as Jack accelerated up to cruising speed.

“It looks new,” Jack said. The previous road had been reasonably smooth, although its surface appeared like a patchwork quilt from all the separate repairs.

They were now heading southeast away from the coast and into considerably denser jungle. They also began to climb. In the distance they could see low, jungle-covered mountains.

Seemingly out of nowhere came a violent thunderstorm. Just prior to its arrival the sky became a swirling mass of dark clouds. Day turned to night in the space of several minutes. Once the rain started, it came down in sheets, and the van’s old, ragged windshield wipers could not keep up with the downpour. Jack had to slow to less than twenty miles an hour.

Fifteen minutes later, the sun poked out between massive clouds, turning the road into a ribbon of rising steam. On a straight stretch, a group of baboons crossing the road looked as if they were walking on a cloud.

After passing through the mountains, the road turned back to the southeast. Warren consulted the map and told everyone they were within twenty miles of their destination.

Rounding another turn, they all saw what looked like a white building in the middle of the road.

“What the hell’s this?” Warren said. “We’re not there yet, no way.”

“I think it’s a gate,” Jack said. “I was told about this only last night. Keep your fingers crossed. We might have to switch to plan B.”

As they got closer, they could see that on either side of the central structure were enormous white, lattice-work fences. They were on a roller mechanism so they could be drawn out of the way to permit vehicles to pass.

Jack braked and brought the van to a stop about twenty feet from the fence. Out of the two-story gate house stepped three soldiers dressed similarly to those who’d been guarding the private jet at the airport. Like the soldiers at the airport, these men were carrying assault rifles, only these men were holding their guns waist high, aimed at the van.

“I don’t like this,” Warren said. “These guys look like kids.”

“Stay cool,” Jack said. He rolled his window down. “Hi, guys. Nice day, huh?”

The soldiers didn’t move. Their blank expressions didn’t change.

Jack was about to ask them kindly to open the gate, when a fourth man stepped out into the sunlight. To Jack’s surprise, this man was pulling on a black suit jacket over a white shirt and tie. In the middle of the steaming jungle it was absurd. The other surprising thing was that the man wasn’t black. He was Arab.

“Can I help you?” the Arab asked. His tone was not friendly.

“I hope so,” Jack said. “We’re here to visit Cogo.”

The Arab glanced at the windshield of the vehicle, presumably looking for some identification. Not seeing it, he asked Jack if he had a pass.

“No pass,” Jack admitted. “We’re just a couple of doctors interested in the work that’s going on here.”

“What is your name?” the Arab asked.

“Dr. Jack Stapleton. I’ve come all the way from New York City.”

“Just a minute,” the Arab said before disappearing back into the gate house.

“This doesn’t look good,” Jack said to Warren out of the corner of his mouth. He smiled at the soldiers. “How much should I offer him? I’m not good at this bribing stuff.”

“Money must mean a lot more here than it does in New York,” Warren said. “Why don’t you overwhelm him with a hundred dollars. I mean, if it’s worth it to you.”

Jack mentally converted a hundred dollars into French francs, then extracted the bills from his money belt. A few minutes later, the Arab returned.

“The manager says that he does not know you and that you are not welcome,” the Arab said.

“Shucks,” Jack said. Then he extended his left hand with the French francs casually stuck between his index finger and his ring finger. “We sure do appreciate your help.”

The Arab eyed the money for a moment before reaching out and taking it. It disappeared into his pocket in the blink of an eye.

Jack stared at him for a moment, but the man didn’t move. Jack found it difficult to read his expression because the man’s mustache obscured his mouth.

Jack turned to Warren. “Didn’t I give him enough?”

Warren shook his head. “I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“You mean he just took my money and that’s that?” Jack asked.

“Be my guess,” Warren said.

Jack turned his attention back to the man in the black suit. Jack estimated he was about a hundred and fifty pounds, definitely on the thin side. For a moment Jack entertained the idea of getting out of the car and asking for his money back, but a glance at the soldiers made him think otherwise.

With a sigh of resignation Jack did a three-point turn and headed back the way they’d come.

“Phew!” Laurie said from the backseat. “I did not like that one bit.”

“You didn’t like it?” Jack questioned. “Now I’m pissed.”

“What’s plan B?” Warren asked.

Jack explained about his idea of approaching Cogo by boat from Acalayong. He had Warren look at the map. Given how long it had taken them to get where they were, he asked Warren to estimate how long it would take to get to Acalayong.

“I’d say three hours,” Warren said. “As long as the road stays good. The problem is we have to backtrack quite a way before heading south.”

Jack glanced at his watch. It was almost nine a.m. “That means we’d get there about noon. I’d judged we could get from Acalayong to Cogo in an hour, even in the world’s slowest boat. Say we stay in Cogo for a couple hours. I think we’d still get back at a reasonable hour. What do you guys say?”

“I’m cool,” Warren said.

Jack looked in the rearview mirror. “I could take you ladies back to Bata and come back tomorrow.”

“My only reservation about any of us going is those soldiers with the assault rifles,” Laurie said.

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” Jack said. “If they have soldiers at the gate then they don’t need them in the town. Of course there’s always the chance they patrol the waterfront, which would mean I’d be forced to use plan C.”

“What’s plan C?” Warren asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “I haven’t come up with it yet.”

“What about you, Natalie?” Jack asked.

“I’m finding it all interesting,” Natalie said. “I’ll go along with the crowd.”

It took almost an hour to get to the point where a decision had to be made. Jack pulled to the side of the road.

“What’s it going to be, gang?” he asked. He wanted to be absolutely sure. “Back to Bata or on to Acalayong?”

“I think I’ll be more worried if you go by yourself,” Laurie said. “Count me in.”

“Natalie?” Jack said. “Don’t be influenced by these other crazies. What do you want to do?”

“I’ll go,” Natalie said.

“Okay,” Jack said. He put the car in gear and turned left toward Acalayong.

Siegfried got up from his desk with his coffee mug in hand and walked to the window overlooking the square. He was mystified. The Cogo operation had been up and running for six years and never had they had someone come to the gate house and request entrance. Equatorial Guinea was not a place people visited casually.

Siegfried took a swig of his coffee and wondered if there could be any connection between this abnormal event and the arrival of Taylor Cabot, the CEO of GenSys. Both were unanticipated, and both were particularly unwelcome since they came just when there was a major problem with the bonobo project. Until that unfortunate situation was taken care of, Siegfried didn’t want any stray people around, and he put the CEO in that category.

Aurielo poked his head in the door and said that Dr. Raymond Lyons was there and wished to see him.

Siegfried rolled his eyes. He didn’t want Raymond around, either. “Send him in,” Siegfried said reluctantly.