The shorter man’s gaze swung back to his. “I doubt it will be. I’m sorry for all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, but I’ve been in this business for too long and know how easily a reporter can get scooped.”
“That depends entirely on what you’re hoping to scoop, and why you think you’re going to find that scoop here.”
Francis looked taken aback for a second. Then he rallied. He looked around and gave a tense smile when he saw the security guards behind him. “Perhaps we can talk in private?”
Nick raised a brow at Jameson and got the nod. Richard Francis had been frisked and confirmed weapon-free. Even still, the loaded Glock Nick had tucked out of sight at the small of his back was a reassurance.
Making sure to keep himself between Belle and the reporter, Nick turned and headed toward the villa. The maid was hovering nearby, as instructed, and quickly served drinks. He wanted the visit to be as short as possible.
He went straight to the point after they were seated on the terrace. “What can I do for you?”
Richard Francis’s eyes darted back to Belle. “I have it on good authority that your wife was kidnapped and held by a certain rebel soldier. I want the opportunity to tell her story.”
“How—how do you know this?” Belle asked. Her hand, still captured in Nick’s, trembled. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Francis’s smile held a hint of self-importance. “Oh, I’m afraid I never reveal my sources. But I can offer some help in hunting down the man you seek.” Francis glanced back at him.
Nick tensed. “This is how it’s going to work. First of all, I want to know everything you know about Mwana, specifically where his hideouts are outside of Nawaka. I want to know how he funds his organization and how many soldiers are under his command—”
The reporter held up a feeble, stalling hand. “No…well, my information isn’t that detailed, I’m afraid.”
Nick stood. “Then I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming here.”
“Wait. I have one piece of information that I’m sure you’ll appreciate in return for three questions.”
He sat back down. “No deal. Tell me what you have first, and I’ll tell you if it’s anywhere near what I want from you. Unfortunately, you don’t hold the cards here, Francis. We do. Cooperate, or you can leave.”
His gaze swung between them, then he nodded. “Okay. I have it on good authority—and yes, I have the evidence to prove it—that the man you’re looking for landed in Venezuela yesterday with a full contingent of soldiers. He’s meeting with a certain drug lord in hopes of hammering out a deal that will see his…um, political interest…grow in the Central African region.”
Anger roiled through Nick. “You mean that bastard isn’t content with blood diamond mining and despotism? He’s now seeking to expand into drugs?”
Francis shrugged. “Commerce is a funny thing. Even cave-dwelling thugs can buy shares these days.” He reached carefully into his coat pocket and brought out a piece of paper. He slid it across the table toward Nick. “The address in Venezuela.” He sat back and looked expectantly at Belle.
“Thank you for the information,” Belle said. Francis was reaching for his recorder when she stopped him. “You can have a full interview if you’re willing to contact your source and get us more. Perhaps Mr. Mwana’s travel itinerary?”
Francis froze, and then he laughed. Nick’s hackles rose once more.
“I don’t know if I can reach my contact anytime soon, so I’ll take the three questions now if I may?” He set the recorder on the table.
Nick glanced at Belle. She nodded.
Francis cleared his throat. “Why did you go to Nawaka in the first place?”
“I was a volunteer at a mission school. I’m a primary grade teacher. I taught a small group of children.”
“How was the political climate when you got there?”
Unease coiled through Nick. He glanced closely at Francis, but the older man appeared calm. His gaze swung to Belle as she answered his question.
“Did you suffer in any way when you were rescued?” Francis asked.
Belle started in surprise. “No, I didn’t.”
“That’s it?” Nick barked. “You flew all this way here to ask those three questions?”
Richard Francis shrugged. “I’m compiling a feature story on kidnappings in Africa and Asia and wanted your wife’s experience to be included. Not all reporters are leeches, Mr. Andreakos. If I help in any way to capture this person you’re looking for, then I’m glad.” He stood and held out his hand to Belle. “It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Andreakos.”
Nick breathed easier when Belle let go of the man’s hand. “Jameson will organize the boat to take you back to Mykonos.”