“We’re going to have to join the caravan to get down to the compound.”
“We’ll have to pretend to be harvesters.”
“Easier said than done.” Sam reached over, touching a lock of her red hair. “This might be a bit noticeable.”
“Says the man with sandy-brown hair. At least I have a solution.” She pulled her scarf from her ponytail and wrapped it around her hair, hiding it from view. “I told you a good scarf comes in handy.”
“So you did,” he said as they started down the trail. At the next bend, they reached a group of harvesters who’d stopped to rest in the shade. “Keep going,” Sam said. He dropped his backpack on the ground, then kneeled to tighten the lace on one of his boots. When he rose, he grabbed his backpack, along with a floppy canvas hat sitting next to it.
Sam caught up with Remi and they continued walking behind the workers who were leading the mules down the trail. A number of men and women had moved off the path to rest. Sam and Remi joined them, waiting for their friends to come down the hill. As Zoe and Dimitris approached, Sam slowly stood and blocked their way and quietly identified himself.
The two stopped, clearly surprised.
“What are you doing here?” Dimitris asked Sam.
“Coming to bring the both of you home.”
“No,” Dimitris said. “Not until we get what we came for.”
“Come sit down with us. We need to talk this through.”
“There is nothing to talk about,” Dimitris said heatedly.
Remi glanced at Zoe, seeing the worry in her eyes. “Dimitris, please listen. Just sit with us and listen. Sam, tell them what your friend from the CIA told us.”
“Short version, we need to get off the island,” Sam said. “He thinks they’re running drugs.”
Dimitris dropped his pack on the ground. “We can’t leave.”
“Dimitris, please,” Zoe said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Sam and Remi are here for us. Maybe—”
“We’re almost there,” he said. “I just want to get close enough to take some video. I might be able to find something to bring them down.”
Zoe put her hand on Dimitris’s arm. “Maybe we should listen to Sam.”
“There’s nothing he can tell me that’ll change my mind.”
“It’s a lot more dangerous than we thought,” Sam said. “If they are running drugs, they won’t hesitate to kill you or anyone else who gets in their way.”
“What do we do now?” Zoe asked Sam.
“We go back to the boat.”
She turned to Dimitris. “I think he’s right. You know he’s right. We need to go back.”
He hesitated. “You’re sure that’s what you want to do?”
“Positive. We should never have come here to start.”
“But, Zoe, we came here for your grandfather.”
“I know. But I lost him because of these people. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
He glanced at Sam, then nodded. “Okay.”
Remi was glad when they all started up the trail, earning a few odd looks from the harvesters, who were all heading down to the port. At the first bend, Dimitris stopped, looking panicked. “I left my backpack behind. The boat key’s in it. I’ll just be a second.”
Zoe watched him walking down the trail, toward the men and women sitting in the shade of the trees. Dimitris picked up his pack, then stopped to talk to a man who was holding the reins of one of the mules. “This is my fault,” Zoe said. “I’m not sure what I was thinking, coming here. Somehow, last night, when we were talking about how easy it would be to take a few videos, and maybe prove how they’re counterfeiting olive oil, it didn’t seem so crazy.”