Taylor Davis and the Clash of Kingdoms by Michelle Isenhoff

Author:Michelle Isenhoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michelle Isenhoff
Published: 2021-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

Lesson #17

Old Wives Know More Than You'd Think

“You said this lab is located in Ghana? As in West Africa?” Elena asked.

My head snapped up. “Africa? That place keeps popping up.”

“It’s about to pop up as big as life,” Mike said. “I’m about to book our flights. Esbjerg to Copenhagen to Accra. If we’re in agreement, we’ll be in Cape Coast by sundown.”

I looked Mike up and down. “Are you going as an undertaker from the Wild West?”

Elena snickered and popped the last of a pickle in her mouth.

Mike crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “For your information, I am the Man in Black.”

“I see that.”

“Johnny Cash!” he exclaimed impatiently. “The Man in Black was Johnny Cash! Don’t you have any musical discernment?” He pressed a button on his iPhone. Trumpets blared and a deep voice rolled from the device.

“What is that?” I winced.

“‘Ring of Fire,’” he answered. “It happens to be one of the most recognizable country music hits ever, and it’s my new ring tone.”

I sighed. Maybe he wouldn’t get many phone calls. “At least you look almost normal for once. But you do realize it’s going to be hot in Africa?”

“I’m aware of that.”

“And you’re wearing all black.”

“Yes?”

“Black absorbs…oh, never mind.” Maybe he was immune to the weather.

Our plane rides were exhausting but uneventful. With Mike proving as useful as translation software, it wasn’t much more difficult than traveling in the Western world. But that all changed when we stepped outside of the airport in Ghana. The rental car ride from Accra to Cape Coast opened my eyes to a whole new world.

The African landscape was beautiful—low coastal plains covered with tropical vegetation and cut through with wild, inaccessible rivers—though the road left something to be desired. The towns were shabby, too, the smallest being collections of thatched huts. It was like civilization ended the moment we left Accra and we were thrust into the footage of missionaries and relief organizations. But the people seemed friendly. They were long-limbed and very dark, the color of Hershey’s chocolate, and they smiled quicker than people back home.

I popped in my earbuds and enjoyed the car trip. It took over two hours. The sun had put itself to bed before we arrived, but that didn’t dissuade Mike from trying to pursue our biotech lead as soon as we threw our luggage in our rooms.

Ranofur put the kibosh on that idea right quick. “We’re staying on hotel property until morning,” he insisted, folding his arms across his chest so his biceps popped up like bowling balls.

I didn’t argue. I was tired. Besides, I’d seen the hotel’s beach and the palm trees, the grass-roofed tiki bar and the swimming pools.

Mike chafed at the delay. “We can’t wait that long, Ranofur. Europe is falling apart while we play tourist. We need to get on-site as soon as possible and find out what Giovetti is up to.”

Ranofur didn’t budge. “This isn’t Europe, Mike. This is Africa. There are creatures here we don’t want to run into in the dark.

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