Chapter 21
“ A re we staying at the embassy?” Amelia asked. They were approaching Yaounde, the capital of Cameroon and also the location of the nearest US Embassy.
“No.”
“Why are we going there?”
“We have to get your replacement passport,” he said.
“Um, I don’t have a passport,” she said.
“Of course you do, but it was stolen, along with our luggage, and so now we have to get you a new one,” he said.
“How am I getting a phantom passport?”
“A certain azure-haired friend is arranging some things, creating some records, etcetera.”
“Blue can do things like that? I thought he was just comic relief,” Amelia said.
“No one actually knows the extent of what Blue can do, or exactly where he came from. Like all good hackers, he just appeared one day. Rumors say he was created in a chat room,” Ethan said.
“Maybe he’s part of the matrix,” Amelia suggested.
“Maybe we’re the matrix, and he’s the only thing that’s real,” Ethan said.
“I’ve seen him sing karaoke. Believe me when I tell you he’s unreal,” Amelia said.
“Look, the city’s coming into view,” Ethan said, pointing.
Amelia gasped. “It’s huge, and it’s so modern.” So far the parts of Africa she’d seen were what she’d imagined—rural and underdeveloped. But Yaounde looked like any city in the US. “Is that a Hilton?”
“There are a lot of hotels here. They get a lot of dignitaries from all over the world. There’s a big expat population here, too. Both US and French,” he said.
“Wow,” she said, her face pressed to the window.
“Africa is diverse and fascinating. You haven’t gotten a good taste of it,” he said.
“Next time I get kidnapped, I’ll ask to be taken to one of the nicer parts,” she said.
The car came to a halt so suddenly Amelia slammed into the seat in front of her.
“Jones, what gives?” Ethan asked, rolling down the divider.
“This is as far as I go, mates,” Jones replied.
“The embassy’s over a mile away,” Ethan said.
“This is as close to it as I get. There’s a lot of law around there, if you know what I’m saying,” Jones said.
“I think we do,” Ethan said. He paid the man and gathered their paltry luggage—his pack and her small paper bag from the store.
“I don’t understand his meaning,” Amelia said.
“He’s wanted,” Ethan said.
“For murder,” Jones added. “But it wasn’t my fault, yeah? This bloke took a spear and got it lodged in his…”
Amelia was already out of the car and down the street by the time he got to “bloke.”
“We spent eight hours being driven by a murderer,” she said when Ethan caught up to her.
“Africa’s kind of like the old west in the US. It’s a good place to get lost and be anonymous if you’re on the run from the law,” Ethan said.
Hand in hand, they walked to the embassy where they were greeted by two marines, one of whom Ethan knew.
“Thompson, I didn’t know you were here. When did you leave Nigeria?” Ethan asked.
“Last month,” Thompson said. “What are you doing this far south? I thought they kept you in the north.” His gaze turned curiously to Amelia.
“This is Amelia,” Ethan introduced.
“Amelia,” Thompson said, his tone warming with interest as he turned to face her.
“My wife,” Ethan added, and Thompson blinked in surprise.
“I didn’t think guys like you had those,” Thompson said.
“Guys like what?” Amelia asked, feigning innocence as she slid her arm around Ethan’s waist.
Thompson froze, realizing he may have bumbled into revealing classified information. “Guys who, you know, travel a lot and...”
“It’s all right. I know Ethan works at an indexing firm that has a strong interest in northern Africa’s wellbeing,” Amelia said.
“Right,” Thompson agreed, nodding in relief.
“Keep it together, Thompson. Don’t let the sun melt your brain,” Ethan advised. “Jarheads,” he added to Amelia, rolling his eyes.
“I’d make a comment about you navy girls, but you don’t even have that going for you anymore,” Thompson said, buzzing them through the gate.
“He does all right,” Amelia said. Ethan laughed, and the two men fist bumped good-naturedly.
“What’s our story?” Ethan prompted Amelia after they headed through the gates.
“We came here to get married and someone stole our luggage and my passport,” she dutifully recited.
“And why did we come to Cameroon to get married?” he asked.
“Because you didn’t want an ordinary wedding; you wanted an adventure,” she added. “You know that makes you sound insane.”
“Remember Jones? That’s the type they’re used to dealing with here. Believe me, they’ll think nothing of it,” he said.
“If they’re the good guys, and you’re the good guy who was doing a good thing to rescue me, why can’t we tell them the truth?” she asked.
“Because they don’t run on good intentions; they run on the law, and I broke a few dozen of them to get here and get you out. Never, ever forget we’re not in the United States anymore. I mean, for the minute we are because we’re at the embassy. But you see what I’m trying to say. We’re in a country with different laws. We have to function within the very strict parameters they’ve set up.”
They were shepherded through multiple channels of security until finally landing in the office that would help them with Amelia’s passport. “Amelia Eldridge, ah, yes, I received word from the State Department you would be arriving for a replacement passport.” The man, Mr. Bauer, paused and looked at her over the paperwork before him. “Usually I’m the one who has to contact them. I rarely remember them contacting me and sending the information first.” He stared at Amelia as if waiting for her to offer an explanation.
“I have family connections,” Amelia said, her heart pounding. “My uncle.”
“I used to work at the State Department. Who’s your uncle?” Mr. Bauer asked.
“He doesn’t actually work at the State Department. He’s just well connected,” Amelia said, squirming. Ethan’s hand slid to rest on her knee, giving it a pat. He had told her to say as little as possible, to let him handle it. I lie for a living. It’s harder than it looks.
“Washington’s a small world. Who is it?” Mr. Bauer pressed.
“The Colonel,” she blurted.
He smiled patronizingly. “Which one?”
“Colonel John Caruthers,” Ethan inserted smoothly. Mr. Bauer flinched and actually seemed to pale at the mention of the name. “Yes, good, well everything seems to be in order here, though no one told me you were here to get married.”
“It was spur of the moment,” Ethan said. “We came to vacation, and I talked her into it.”
Amelia wanted to blurt things. She had never been good at deception, and now words and assertions wanted to blather out of her like hot lava. She sat on her hands, trying not to say anything else. Keep it simple, Ethan had warned. Good liars take a spark of truth and stick to it. Bad liars elaborate. Resist the temptation.
In her mind, all kinds of concocted stories were swirling, detailed, fantastical excuses for why she and Ethan had come to Cameroon and what they’d done since they’d been there. One of them involved pirates, a search for hidden treasure, and possibly a dolphin rescue. Don’t talk, don’t talk, don’t talk, she warned herself.
Her passport was in his hand. All he had to do was stamp it, and they could leave, but he seemed content to linger, to chat. “You’re a well-traveled young lady,” he said, staring at her passport.
“I am?” Amelia asked and then, when he gave her a questioning look, “I mean, I love to travel so much it doesn’t feel like I’ve been that many places.” Or anywhere ever.
“I’d say eleven countries by the age of twenty three counts as widely traveled,” Mr. Bauer said. “Twelve, including Cameroon.” He stamped the passport and handed it over.
Amelia nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. Ethan wrapped things up with the man, recounting all the fun, make-believe adventures they’d had in Cameroon. It sounded like complete gibberish to Amelia, but Mr. Bauer ate it with a spoon.
“And when do you head back?” Mr. Bauer asked.
“Day after tomorrow,” Ethan said, surprising her again.
They shook hands with the man, thanked him for his help, and then they were on their way.
“Day after tomorrow?” she questioned when they were safely outside. “I thought you said we were leaving tomorrow.”
“When I was describing all the fun, made up things we’d done, I felt a little bad we hadn’t actually done those things,” Ethan said.
“You want us to go back and re-do the trip so you won’t feel guilty for lying to the embassy?”
“No, I felt bad for you, that your entire time here has been fear and worry and hunger, hiding, and escape. So I was thinking tomorrow maybe we could have a day of fun.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a honeymoon,” she said.
“Not to me. Anytime I pictured a honeymoon, it didn’t involve leaving the hotel,” he said. “Speaking of which.” He put up a hand, hailing a taxi. Once they were tucked inside, he gave the driver their destination: “Hilton, s’il vous plait .
Outside it was growing dark. Amelia stared up at Ethan’s handsome profile, her heart flip flopping around inside her chest, and added her own direction to the driver. Va vite: go quickly.