CHAPTER 61

Three weeks later, Gaston arrived at the Walker home for a preflight briefing. He brought with him an African American woman named Silvia, who he described as one of his associates. She specialized in “extrication logistics, ” something as vague as Gaston could possibly make it sound, but the Walkers were not about to ask for any clarification.

A week earlier, Gaston had explained to Murray that a woman would be a nice addition to the team because Beatrice and the boys might feel more comfortable around her. They were likely to be thoroughly rattled if not traumatized, and women handled those situations better. There was some loose talk about Ida making the trip, though she was not keen to go. That talk got nixed when Gaston explained that he and Murray, along with whatever woman they took, would run the slight risk of being arrested upon their entry into the U. S. The charge could be aiding and abetting an illegal entry. Gaston was prepared to risk such a minor charge. Murray was undaunted. Ida preferred not to be arrested and flatly said no. She needed to stay behind and organize the legal team and deal with Immigration. Gaston said that with two prior extrications, both involving Syrians, the planes landed in Bangor, Maine, where Immigration was not known to be as aggressive as, say, Miami. The families surrendered to the authorities, were detained, and Immigration never pursued anyone for aiding and abetting.

Over dinner at Ida’s table, Gaston walked them through each step of the extrication and answered all their questions. He showed them the forged passports for the Sooleymons. Using photos that Ecko had taken with them in December, the forger had done what appeared to be a masterful job of producing Ugandan passports. Since Sooleymon was a familiar name throughout East Africa, and Beatrice, James, and Chol were not uncommon, their new passports used their real names. Murray had been able to obtain their birthdates from Ecko.

Gaston expanded on the story he had told Murray about the failed extrication a year earlier at Heathrow. The paperwork had been fine, but the Immigration official became suspicious when the mother flubbed her fictitious birth date.

Ernie wanted to know what could go wrong. Several things that they knew of and several that no one had ever heard of. The biggest fear was the airplane. The Gulfstream 650 had a range of 7, 500 miles and Entebbe was 7, 300 miles from the airport at Raleigh-Durham. Flying west, they would certainly face headwinds, and if they were strong enough the jet might be forced to make a pit stop. Landing anywhere but the U. S. was risky. However, the pilots would monitor the weather closely and would know what they were facing before they took off. Plan B would be to land in the Canary Islands, a favorite fueling stop for international flights and a place known for customs agents who could be convinced to look the other way. Gaston had contacts there.

There was always the chance that trouble might erupt at Rhino Camp South and prevent a quiet exit by Beatrice and the boys. There were other risks, but on the whole Gaston and Silvia were confident.

After they said good night and left for their hotel, Murray went to his room and finished packing. As he did almost every hour, he checked in with the Fund, now at over $3 million and counting. He had been forced to hurriedly hire a part-time secretary to deal with the details and make sure the donors, all 265, 000 of them, were properly thanked. Their systems were upgraded; more powerful software was added. Murray was chasing his tail and in need of full-time help, and the last thing he needed was a trip to Uganda.

But he wasn’t about to miss the adventure.

· · ·

Before they were buckled in, the copilot welcomed them aboard and briefed them on the flight. Thanks to a tailwind, their estimated flight time was only thirteen hours. Thirteen sounded only slightly better than fourteen or fifteen. Just minutes before their scheduled 11 a. m. departure, the flight attendant took their drink orders and handed them lunch menus.

The jet seemed plated with gold. The leather recliners were soft and deep. The carpet was thick, plush. A mahogany dining table sat midway aft, and beyond it were two sofas that folded into beds, complete with silk sheets. Screens were everywhere and there was an endless selection of movies and channels.

It would be Murray’s third trip on a private jet, and something told him it would probably be his last. Classes started in two weeks and it was back to the grind. Then basketball, without Sooley and without Coach Britt, and a season that looked less than promising.

Murray found a chair in the rear, kicked off his shoes, buckled himself in, and vowed to enjoy the trip.

· · ·

The two soldiers were Ugandan Defence Forces, the usual troops seen around the camp. They wore the standard green fatigues, shiny black boots, smart black berets, and, as always, had Kallies strapped over their shoulders. They found Beatrice behind her tent tending to her small plot of vegetables. They were friendly and polite and asked her to step away for a private word.

They informed her that she had been selected to move to a newer section of Rhino Camp South, to a nicer home. Keep it quiet. She had heard the rumors of new housing to replace their rotting tents, but those rumors had been around for months. The refugees spent half their time sifting through rumors, or creating more of them.

They returned to her tent where a third soldier was waiting with two army duffel bags. Beatrice balked and said she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. Her close friends lived on each side of her and she wouldn’t go without them. The soldiers smiled and said her friends would make the move tomorrow. Within minutes, she had packed everything she owned—clothing, blankets, pillows, tins of food, some notebooks from school, and two plastic jugs for hauling water. The soldiers carried the duffels as they left the area. Beatrice looked back at her tent, her home for the past year, and wondered if she would ever see it again. An army jeep was waiting. The soldiers helped Beatrice into the front passenger’s seat and tossed her bags into the back where another soldier was sitting. The jeep weaved slowly through the settlement and came to its edge, near the school. Standing in front under the shade of a tree was a teacher with James and Chol.

Beatrice asked the driver, “Why are we getting the boys? ”

“We have a surprise. You’ll like it. ”

The boys squeezed into the back seat of the jeep and waved to their teacher. They had never been in a jeep before. In fact, they could barely remember their last ride in a motorized vehicle, the old pickup owned by their uncle in Lotta.

Their rides would only continue to be upgraded.

As they left Rhino, Beatrice was concerned. Again, she asked the driver, “Where are we going? ”

“To Kampala, then to America. ” She was stunned and speechless. They rode for almost an hour over a busy, wide gravel road, dodging supply trucks and troop carriers. At the airport, a small Ugandan air force cargo plane was waiting as another one landed and taxied to the warehouse.

In the rear seat, the soldier asked the boys, “Ever been up in an airplane before? ”

They shook their heads no and watched wide-eyed as the jeep stopped next to the cargo plane. Beatrice had never considered air travel, and thus had no opinions about whether or not it was for her. However, at the moment she was stricken with fear and didn’t want to leave the jeep. The soldiers gently coaxed her out with promises of safe travel, and a visit to the big city before leaving for America. Once inside they strapped her in, the boys too, and wished them well. The two engines sputtered to life and the old plane shook itself. Two cool pilots in aviator shades turned around, smiled at them, and gave them thumbs-up. Beatrice was too stiff to move, but the boys were grinning from ear to ear.

· · ·

Murray, Gaston, and Silvia were lounging under a wide umbrella by the pool, sipping drinks with no alcohol, and waiting, for the second day in a row. In the bush, the best-laid plans often go awry, and the delay was being blamed on some confusion regarding cargo planes. It didn’t matter and it wasn’t a big deal. Delays were always expected. There were worse ordeals than hanging around Kampala Serena, a five-star hotel in the middle of the commercial district.

Gaston’s phone rang and he got to his feet. He said, “One hour. Great. ” He put the phone away and nodded at Murray and Silvia. They went to their rooms, changed, and returned to the lobby where they waited. The family arrived in a white van with no military markings, proof that Immigration had now taken over. The driver was an officious-looking man in a suit. He slid open the side door and helped Beatrice to the pavement. The boys followed and all three stood frozen, unsure of what to say or do, or where to go. The Serena hotel was a vast and beautiful building, and they had just driven through the chaos and congestion of a big city, their first ever.

Gaston stepped forward and said, “We represent your American family. We’re here to take you home. ”

Murray smiled at the boys and said, “I’m Murray. I lived with your brother and he was my best friend. ” They immediately recognized him from the videos Samuel had sent. They awkwardly shook his hand.

As they entered the lobby, the always courteous doormen smiled and then exchanged looks. Three well-dressed Americans and three bewildered and somewhat ragged refugees from the bush.

It came as no surprise that the boys wanted lunch. They had never eaten in a restaurant before, neither had Beatrice, and once their bags were checked in, they followed Gaston to a corner table where they could talk. And talk they did. As Beatrice realized that they were indeed headed to America, she had many questions. The boys asked Murray what they should eat and he ordered cheeseburgers and sodas. And, of course, they wanted to talk about Samuel.

For people who had slept last night on the floor of a tent, and every night for the past year, and who spent hours each day waiting in endless lines for food, and who had lost half their family and all hope in the future, and who had no idea why they had been plucked from the camp, the moment was simply overwhelming. Beatrice cried a lot, and then she laughed, and ate, and tried her best to understand Murray as he tried his best to explain how a nonprofit worked in the U. S. He finally gave up and said, “Let’s just say that Samuel is responsible for this. ”

After a long lunch, they escorted the family to their large room with two beds. Murray showed them how to work the shower and toilet. From the balcony, he pointed below to the beautiful pool and told the boys he would take them swimming as soon as they changed.

Gaston called the front desk and organized a van to take them shopping, and he and Silvia left with Beatrice to buy new clothes. It was imperative that the family, now full-fledged Ugandans, looked the part of well-documented immigrants headed for America. If a customs agent somewhere checked their luggage, he would find some nice new clothes and nothing out of the ordinary. And new clothes were certainly needed. Staying clean in the camps was impossible, and the dirt and grime had become part of the fabrics.

In the pool, Murray marveled at how skinny James and Chol were. They were already tall for their ages, eleven and thirteen, and he could almost count their ribs. He had never seen kids so thin in America. As they frolicked in the water he watched closely for the slightest hint or sign that they shared the same marvelous DNA as their brother. They could not swim so they stayed in the shallow end, and as he listened to them chatter and play he remembered many wonderful stories Sooley had told about his little brothers. He said James looked just like him, and he was right. He said Chol would be the best basketball player in the family. They would soon see about that.

Water became the topic. Water in the pool. Water in the tub. But especially water from the tap that ran nonstop and they could drink all they wanted. The boys took shower after shower, and Murray didn’t have the heart to tell them that in Durham there would be a monthly water bill. When they were bored with the shower, they returned to the pool.

Murray recalled that the team managers had been amazed at how little water Sooley consumed.

After another fine meal at dinner, they met in Gaston’s room to walk through tomorrow’s schedule. So far, each leg had gone as planned. Gaston often smiled at how far a little cash could go in the developing world. Cash under the table certainly worked back home as well, it just took more of it.

⇐ Предыдущая 58 59 60 61 626364 65 66 67 Следующая ⇒