Chapter LXXXIV - The Coverup

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“The builders of this place were resourceful. The entrances are transitory. The one that we used will be gone forever once we leave.” Came the enigmatic answer.

“Good enough for me. Let’s do it.” Hunter said.

• • •

Hunter and Tiyana found the drill the next day. Tiyana sent it down deep into the mountain. Virgil joined them. He helped them collapse and cover the hole. Without bracing the tunnel walls, the walls caved in easily. The drill was missing attachments that would allow it to brace the walls as it bored. The attachments and the wall braces were buried deeper in the coliseum. With the coverup complete, the group retired to Turin, where they regrouped. The Prices gave the prisoners enough money to travel back to their homes and families. Vito and Paola were grateful, but did not linger.

“How is she?” Hunter asked.

“She has been through a lot. She needs to rest. We need to go. I cannot thank you enough. Both of you. All of you.”

Tiyana embraced the man who seemed near tears. Hunter put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I hope you find what you are looking for. Give them hell.” Vito said.

With that, he turned and put an arm around Paola. They boarded a bus with a large group of former prisoners and headed east.

“This is about more than just us now.” Hunter said to the remaining quartet. “This is not just about making up for what we did. It’s bigger than that. It’s about them.” He gestured toward the bus.

“Let us finish it then.” Hongo said.

“Yes.” Tiyana added.

• • •

The quartet ignored the looks as they entered the lobby. Their clothes were in tatters. Tiyana was still covered with dirt from the drill.

“Three rooms please.” Hunter asked. “We would like to take the first available.”

Tiyana lost no time. After a shower and a change of clothes, she went straight to work. Within an hour, the room was full of maps. It began to resemble their room back in Imperia.

When Hunter got out of the shower he looked around and said, “You know what I love about you?”

“What?” Tiyana replied.

“You’re a champion, just an absolute champion. After what we went through this morning, here you are, just hours later, back at work. You don’t miss a beat do you? You’re an incredible woman.”

Tiyana laughed. “Oh dear. I knew when I married you that we would have an exciting life. I just didn’t know how exciting.”

Hunter laughed at that.

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint.”

• • •

Later that night, Hongo watched a tall man with unnaturally impeccable posture walk into the hotel bar. The man’s angular jaw and otherworldly demeanor stood out. Hongo waived him over.

When he saw Hongo, he smiled, “Ah, Mr. Ochuka, I am unfamiliar with the customs. Maybe you could help?”

“You look ridiculous, bwana.” Hongo said.

“Maybe, but I am quite comfortable.” Virgil replied. “Cotton and denim are fine materials. The casual custom is quite comfortable. The last time I interacted with Western society, the custom was far more formal.”

Virgil was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. They did not look right on him.

“There is something to be said for formality.” Hongo said. “In East Africa, even the poor wear slacks and dress shirts. They might be dirty. They might not have showered recently. But if an opportunity to work arises, then they will be dressed for it. They dress in a way that demands respect because where opportunities are rare, the people must be ready for them at all times. You cannot necessarily identify a person’s socioeconomic status by the way they clothe themselves in a country where opportunities are sparse. The slumdwellers do not have the luxury of dressing like slumdwellers.”

“I see. Shall we toast your people then and drink to their prosperity?” Virgil asked.

“Pick your poison.” Hongo replied.

“That is what I need your help with. I am unfamiliar.” Virgil replied.

“Ah.” Hongo ordered two East African beers.

“To the end of corruption in East Africa, to the freedom of the people, and to the just rule of law that we oneday hope for.” Hongo said.

“Cheers.” Virgil replied.

“Hongo, we have not had time to talk. In the Kingdom, when I recruited you all, you did not hesitate to lend your hand. It was surprising.” Virgil said.

Hongo was uncomfortable.

“The Prices are special people.” Hongo declined to elaborate.

“Are you a family man?” Virgil asked.

Hongo laughed, “Drink your beer.”

“I have spent centuries keeping secrets Hongo. I think I can keep yours. You have not called on anyone since we began this journey.” Virgil probed.

“No. I have not.” Hongo waited for Virgil to respond. When no response came, he went on slowly, “There was someone.” His mind went to a different place.

“Go ahead.” Virgil encouraged.

“The Prices do not know, but I did not go to work with them for the money. There was... someone.”

Virgil smiled, “Money is never everything is it?”

“She was with us at Olduvai Gorge, but when the work slowed down, she went to work for the Prices. I never told her how I felt. I was too proud and she was my employee.”

“But you had a relationship.” Virgil added.

“Yes.” Hongo left it at that.

“What happened?” Virgil asked.

“No one ever asked why I was the last to cross over. When we were in the labyrinth, below the pyramids. Awour…” Hongo’s eyes glistened. He choked as he spoke. “It took her. I could not stop it.”

“Cerberus?” Virgil asked

“Ndio, yes.” Hunter replied.

“I think I see now. Our fight keeps you from having to dwell on it. What was her name?”

“Awour Apolo Ndiege. She was so humble. She never wanted anyone to find out about us. I thought that after the drilling was over and we scoured the site that we could leave. We would have settled down. We would have had little children. I had saved up money.” Hongo let out a deep breath.

“Thank you for sharing that. I will pray for her soul.”

“What will that do?”

“It will be acknowledged. You should do the same. Think about her. You do need to mourn, but do not give in to despair. You are a good man Hongo. Take it easy tonight. Tomorrow, we convene at sunrise.”

With that, Virgil put a reassuring hand on Hongo’s shoulder and gave him a look of solidarity.

“Thank you, bwana.” Hongo muttered.

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