Troubleshooters (Jackson Chase Novella Book 2) by Black Connor

Author:Black, Connor [Black, Connor]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2014-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

10

The locations Chen had provided were scattered, and often on strips of road in between clusters of buildings, likely from someone driving along and placing a call. Some came from street corners where people gathered and motorcycle taxis took a break from the intense sun beneath scraggly trees. Our chat with the men in each of these locations turned from friendly to rather quiet when we asked about the provenance of their phones.

A few of the marked locations were the ubiquitous mobile phone stands that were a part of every dusty little row of shops. And while nice enough, the proprietors had no idea that some of the SIMs they had used were stolen.

We carried on, wanting to cover each location, and soon found ourselves near the edge of town on the western side of Arusha, the road that eventually turned north to Nairobi.

Head down, monitoring the map display on his phone, Sterba said, “Number eleven on the list. Just over a klick ahead.”

We hit, for perhaps the hundredth time, a large pothole in the dirt road. Sterba’s head knocked into the doorframe.

“Could you please not hit every hole in the road?”

“Could you please stop whining every time I do?”

“200 meters,” he finally said. “Left side.”

I scanned ahead. A woman stood below a tree next to a bushel of onions, waiting for a bus or dala dala. A man pulled a wooden wagon loaded with corrugated roofing material past her. Just beyond them was what appeared to be a disused petrol station. A faded sign reading ‘Niake’ stood on two exceptionally tall posts. The pumps had been pulled out, but the workshop and attached office remained.

I slowed, preparing to make a left turn into the area under the portico where the pumps once stood. Just as my finger went to the indicator, Sterba suddenly said, “Contact! Don’t turn. Continue straight ahead.”

I resisted the urge to turn and look, sensing that Sterba’s urgency meant whoever saw could be looking our way. We continued on past the petrol station.

“What do you have, Joe?” I asked while trying to maintain a constant speed.

“No threat,” he said. “Noticed someone on the roof holding what could be a rifle. Or a broom, for that matter. But keep your eyes straight ahead. Don’t want to spook ‘em.”

To our right was a small hill. An opening in the vegetation showed the corners of some buildings.

“There’s a small road to the right that may go up the hill. How about we find a good spot to have a look?”

“Sounds good,” Sterba said.

We were about 800 meters or so past the petrol station when I turned off the main road and onto the small dirt trail. The surface was loose and deeply rutted, throwing the little truck side-to-side as we made our way past a couple of small sheds. They were in a sad state, and gave me the impression we were entering an old farm of some sort.

I pushed my chin out and to the right, needing both hands on the wheel, and said, “Let’s take this path to the right.

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