Chapter 1
Glen lay sprawled on the ground behind a lush fern. He looked at the encampment below, watching the movements of the guards. Although it was only mid-morning, already the heat of the jungle was stifling, making him breathe harder to fill his lungs. As he took another breath, he began to choke. He forced himself to swallow whatever had flown into his mouth. "Shit!" scrunching his face. That made the third time already.
Mark watched the camp also, belly crawling over to Glen. "How many guards would you figure?"
"Probably no more than 60."
As they watched, they spotted one of the guards stopping to light a cigarette in front of a hut beneath the gun tower. The guard looked around, glancing in their direction, slightly nodding his head.
"Our target is in that hut."
"Wonder if they're still alive?"
"We'll find out tonight."
Both men slithered backwards till they were over the embankment, getting up to walk the rest of the way. Ten minutes later they reached a cave, nine men busy getting their weapons ready. Glen sat in a corner of the cave, getting his mind together, watching his men. It was quite an assortment of men he had under his command, having hand-picked each one.
Farooq and Bradshaw had been bouncers at a South side bar in Boston. The first time he saw them, he Watched as the two of them dismantled eight men in a matter of minutes. To the chagrin of the owner, they did it inside the bar, costing him thousands of dollars in repairs. The two men had the reputation of being the roughest bouncers in south Boston. It was rumored they were card sharks, playing poker up to 24 hours straight, downing six-pack after six-pack of beer. What most of the customers and/or their victims didn't know was the "beer" they supposedly drank was NA (non-alcoholic). Glen approached them offering them all the fight they could handle, plus "certain other rewards" for doing a good job, to which they readily accepted.
He had done some background checking on Hunter who had nearly killed his brother with a sledgehammer, leaving him paralyzed for life. Although it had been in self-defense, Hunter had been sentenced to 20 years for attempted murder. Glen had read the newspaper accounts of the trial, knowing someone like Hunter could be a real asset in the type of business they were in. He had waited outside the prison when Hunter was released on good behavior, serving only half of his time. Glen had put his proposal to him. Hunter smiled, nodding his acceptance, but was warned if he disobeyed or threatened a direct order, he would be the recipient of a well-placed bullet.
Matt and Jeff were the youngest of the group. Glen had doubted their toughness upon their first meeting due to their boyish looks, which belied their lust for blood. Jeff possessed a rare talent known as Gi - the ability to concentrate one's mental energy to move objects. Glen had Jeff demonstrate his ability and was quite impressed. Of the two, Matt was the most dangerous one. Just the scent of blood would send him into a frenzy, smiling as he tormented his helpless victims before literally ripping their hearts out.
Edge and Christian, although brothers, were complete opposites. Edge is termed in the world of psychology as bi-polar. One never knew when or what could set him off on a tirade of violence. Christian on the other hand, was quiet, rather laid back. But behind the laid back attitude hid a knack, some would say genius, for repairing and making run any vehicle that came in contact with his hands, even a piece of junk, which at times wreaked havoc with the police as he was known to run afoul of them every now and then.
"Sean O'Haire was a good catch," Glen thought to himself. Sean considered himself along the lines of a real-life Rambo, having been trained by the Green Berets, earning medals for valor and the Silver Star on several occasions. After the war in Vietnam was over, he found himself with no place to go or no one wanting to hire him, and so drifted around till Glen had to get him out of jail for vagrancy, having checked into his background. He knew Sean would fit in nice with the group he had been putting together.
Palumbo was the sniper in the group, but had been hiding from the police, wanted for questioning in a number of hits that had the earmark of someone with his talent. Glen had heard of his ability and had found him in a roach-infested hotel. Palumbo was a gifted weapons expert; able to using anything from a pistol to a cannon, hitting whatever target he saw at whatever distance.
Glen smiled when he looked at Rock, or Captain Rock, as he preferred to be called. When Glen had first met Rock, he watched as Rock smooth talked the woman he was with into loaning him money, which he fully never intended to pay back. After doing some further checking, he found Rock, who had served time in the army, to be quite adept at being able to get just about anything - weapons, vehicles, black market items, etc. just by simply smiling and using all the right words.
Then he looked at Mark, his second in command. Glen thought back to the many encounters they had had over the years, most of them fights that usually ended in the both of them backing off of each other. Mark had been with him the longest, ten years. He, of all the men, was the only one who could stabilize Glen when he would be in one of his "zones."
Glen really didn't know a lot about Mark, only that he owned a Harley-Davidson dealership in Houston. He was basically quiet and laid back, but anyone who crossed him easily found himself severely beaten or possibly dead. He did find out, however, from some acquaintances in certain circles that Mark had killed several men with only one blow and had no second thoughts whatsoever. Glen never asked him about the tattoos on his arms, thinking from the looks of them it would be wise not to.
Then he sat there thinking of how he had gotten started. It didn't seem that just ten years ago he had been a happily married man, with two children and one on the way. A hard glint came in his eye as he remembered how his family had been coming home from Europe, their plane exploding at takeoff. A search turned up a bomb had been placed on board only minutes before, an unknown terrorist group claiming responsibility.
As the months had passed, he had grown impatient and angry as the government's attempts to find the terrorists had failed and decided to take matters into his own hands. It had taken him quite a few months of digging and intimidating to find the terrorists, who, as he nodded his head, were now finding their way around hell. After burning the home he had built with his own hands, he found a secluded hideaway in the mountains, the perfect place for him to stay when not being a soldier of fortune.
When evening had set in the men positioned themselves around the camp. Glen looked at his watch in the dim light. It was just about time for the guards to change shifts. It was to work out that Jeff would be posted in front of the prisoners' hut. He watched. Right on time. Jeff was now in position.
On cue, one of the trucks exploded, the flames igniting another truck next to it. While most of the guards went to check, Jeff slipped inside and took care of the extra guard. Glen raised his hand, a barrage of hand grenades rained on the camp, killing a third of the guards. The men rushed in, firing as they ran through the camp; the sounds of grunts and screams could be heard as now they were fighting hand-to-hand.
Bradshaw and Farooq were into their element as they took on a group, laughing as they smashed jaws And shattered bones, running on to the next unfortunates. "Hell, these fuckers can't even throw a punch," Farooq laughed.
Hunter was using his favorite weapon, the sledgehammer, and having a field day. An evil grin on his face as each guard he smashed appeared in his mind to be his brother.
The sight and smell of blood had Matt excited, grinning as he held a helpless guard by the neck, then punched through the man's chest, ripping his heart out and throwing it at his feet.
Edge had gone totally ballistic, using his bayonet, shredding those men who were already wounded. Christian had fought his way over to the last remaining truck, a ½ ton troop carrier, jumpstarting it, the thick black smoke flowing from the stack.
O'Haire and Palumbo had earlier taken out the gun tower when the men had first rushed the camp. Both men fighting their way over the hut, checking for any hidden guards.
Rock was his usual, smiling self as he took out a couple of soldiers who were aiming to shoot at Bradshaw. "Kiss off, you monkey asses!"
Glen and Mark fought their way over to the prisoners' hut, rushing in and pulling them out, Jeff right behind as O'Haire and Palumbo surrounded the prisoners.
The raid took 30 minutes, the smoke hanging over the jungle as the huts and vehicles burned, every soldier killed in the process.
"LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Glen yelled.
The dazed prisoners were shoved onto the truck; the rest climbing in accept for Edge, who sat up front with Christian, who gunned the truck and took off for their rendezvous at an old airstrip a day's drive from there. They arrived just as a cargo plane had landed. Glen ordered everyone to hurry and get on. In less than five minutes they were airborne. After a two-hour flight, they arrived at the appointed place, the couple taken off. As the general went to exit, he turned to Glen, "If you ever need anything…" Glen nodded as he understood what the general wanted to say. The plane took off.
Everyone congratulated each other on a job well done. Glen heaved a sigh to himself, no one had been seriously wounded, a rarity in this profession. When the plane landed, each man went his own way to wherever to rest and heal until the next job.
CHAPTER 2
Michael McFee had just finished unpacking her suitcase in her cabin. For the first time in a long time she was taking a cruise to relax. Michael (her father named her) owned a Harley dealership in Dallas. She always loved motorcycles, having ridden them since she was a teenager, doing daredevil stunts, which had almost killed her at one point. Just like her father, she was headstrong and stubborn, and when she flashed her big brown eyes at you, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. She was, though, having a problem with her main competitor, another Harley dealership called Calaway's of Houston. It seemed the both of them were vying for an exclusive contract to sell the latest model just put out by Titan, the "Rude American." For months both dealerships had waged a war of words on paper, with no luck for either of them. News had reached her that her competition had left town for a while, so she decided she would to this trip to cool off.
She made her way up to the main deck. Her years in meeting the public had given her a pretty good eye for judging people. She settled on one of the deck chairs to watch the passengers come aboard, sitting just close enough to hear them as they checked in with the purser.
The first to step aboard was Victoria Sims. Michael judged her to be about 27 years old, mousy Looking hair, of average height and weight. Michael saw she kept her eyes lowered and guessed Victoria to be a very quiet and shy person. She thought the name sounded familiar. Then she heard Victoria say she was hoping this cruise would give her some inspiration to write a novel. Then it hit Michael. She had packed in her suitcase a book she had bought the day before called "Garden of Love." She had read several of Victoria's other books, never imagining the outgoing characters she read about were thought up by someone who was very shy.
As Victoria went to her assigned room, she was hoping she would find for herself someone like the heroes in her stories, someone who would sweep her off her feet.
Next came a pert, pixie-faced young lady by the name of Suzanne Anders. She told the purser she was taking some time off from her job as a legal secretary for IBM Corporation. The purser said he noticed she had listed a number of hobbies. Suzanne said she did have quite a few, one of them was designing jewelry, and had just submitted some to the WWF for consideration.
The next young lady looked as if she spent most of her time indoors, her eyes had a haunting look about them. Michael heard her introduce herself as Catrina Daniels, from Salem, Oregon. She was overheard saying she owned a bookstore, mainly catering to those who were heavy into the occult world. Catrina had waited a long time to go on a trip. Perhaps she would find some rare books to take back.
Mimi McBain had been expected on board as the guest chef for Le'Trufflé, the ship's highly touted French restaurant. The ship's captain met her and took her to meet the head chef.
A well-tanned, very tough looking young woman was next. Michael heard her say her name was Bethany Michaels. Michael guessed she did a lot of work outdoors. And she did. Bethany was owner of a 5,000-acre cattle spread near Jacksonhole, Wyoming. She had needed this trip to relax as it had taken Her nearly a year to clean up the financial mess her father had left when he died. She took a sigh of relief and went to her room.
Michael could see burn out in the next passenger. She guessed this one probably was a psychologist. Dr. Ann Ferrand was a psychologist, having listened to people's troubles for ten years now. Her own psychologist ordered her to take for her own peace of mind.
A look of bewilderment and awe was showing on Brenda Pollack's face. Michael guessed this was someone who had never traveled much. She overheard Brenda say she ran a farm in South Dakota, and was taking this cruise as she had won the big state lottery. The purser assured her she would have a good time on this trip.
"Here comes a real nerd," Michael thought. "She needs help both in her clothes and make-up." Dr. Dinah Robinson, an archeologist, knew very little about fashion and what make-up would suit her, wearing whatever was easy and comfortable. She told the purser she was going on this trip to meet a professor in Columbia who had just excavated an Incan village.
Clarice Meadows was a cool cucumber, always sure of herself. Michael got the feeling as she watched Clarice that the young woman was not all she seemed. And indeed she wasn't. Agent Meadows was an undercover agent for the ATF. No one knew she was working undercover to check out a suspected gunrunning - white slavery ring that was reportedly working out of South America.
Michael's hair stood on end when the next passenger stepped aboard. The purser backed away from the gigantic tall redhead who stood in front of him. Michael was definitely impressed by the man's looks and build, then she heard his name. "So that's my competition."
Her eyes focused on him till she heard the sound of yelling. Blinking her eyes she saw the last Passenger to board. "Oh, Oh," she thought to herself. "Batton down the hatches. Hell has just arrived."
Ms. Felina Vander strutted on board with at least four porters, each carrying three pieces of luggage. One of them had just dropped her luggage, a tirade of epithets and other explicatives came from her, causing the poor man to turn red.
"Dammit, what kind of fuckin' porter are you? You dare to drop my things. May I remind you who I am! I'm Felina Vander. My father is Gerald Vander, owner and CEO of the largest marketing firm in the United States. Now pick that up!"
The poor man bent over to pick up her luggage. Felina literally kicked the man, making him stumble.
"My father puts me on a dump like this! HMPH! Sending me to a branch office in some backward, retarded country! I hate him!" she said to herself.
Chapter 3
Michael saw there was quite an assortment of passengers on board. Her mind though wondered to The tall redhead. "If I had known how good looking my competition was, I would have tried to meet him a Long time ago."
She went back to her cabin, which was located on the second tier. As she entered, she heard yelling from the cabin next to hers. One of the porters came running out. Michael recognized the poor man. "Oh shit! I've got that hellion next door to me. How did I get so lucky," rolling her eyes as she commented to herself. When she entered she noticed a small white envelope on the dresser. Opening it, she saw it was an invitation to dine at the Captain's table.
Each of the passengers had received the same invitation to dine with the Captain at seven.
Felina looked at the invitation. At least she would be dining with someone of importance. Perhaps she could persuade him to move her to one of the luxury suites.
All the guests but Felina arrived promptly at seven. Felina purposely made her entrance ten minutes later, wanting to dazzle everyone at the table.
Mark couldn't believe he was the only other man at the table with 12 women. He thought himself lucky as He looked the other guests over. One of them caught his attention. "She's not bad looking. Long, silky, brown hair. I wonder if it's as soft as it looks." His eyes traveled up and down her body. A devilish grin appeared. "Wonder how long it will take to get her in bed?"
Michael had introduced herself to Dinah. Her skin suddenly became prickly all over. It did that whenever someone was looking at her. She turned to see a pair of green eyes watching her intensely. She stared back as if to say, "I know what you're thinking. Sorry, buddy, you'll have to wait." She turned back to her conversation with Dinah.
Felina sat at the end of the table. Her dress was cut to her waist, barely hiding her ample breasts, but showed off her diamond necklace.
Dinah saw how Felina was dressed, then she looked at what she was wearing. She looked around at the rest of the girls and suddenly began to feel nervous and out of place.
Each of the guests was asked to introduce themselves. When it came her turn, Michael used her nickname, Mikki, not wanting Mark to know who she really was.
"We have a special treat tonight. The meal we are about to parktake of was cooked by Chef Mimi McBain, who heads the La Maison in San Francisco, and who is our guest chef for the cruise."
Mimi stood up as the guests applauded.
"We are also pleased to have on our boat one of the best blues artists performing for us. Ms. Summer Rayne, who graciously took time from her Las Vegas engagement, will shortly be entertaining us, and who will be joining us at our table. So if all of you would raise your glasses."
All the guests raised their glasses. "May all of you enjoy your cruise." They clinked their glasses And drank.
In the corner of the restaurant, a pair of eyes was watching the table with particular interest. Soon he was joined by the purser. "Well, how does the merchandise look?"
"This may be the best group yet. You have the information I need?"
"Right here with me. There's one though that could give us some trouble. See the one on the end?
That's Felina Vander, better known as 'the bitch.' Her dad's one of the richest men in the United States. From what I gathered from the Captain, he got disgusted with her behavior and sent her to open up an office in Bogota."
"That's only eleven of them. Where's the twelfth?"
"She'll be coming out shortly to perform. Her name is Summer Rayne. She's a looker too."
"Does the Captain know what to do?"
"Everything is set up. When the women are taken, all traces of them ever being on the ship will be gone."
"What about the big guy?"
"Don't know much about him, but he's not with any of them."
"Good. Wire ahead to the port to have everything ready. If all goes well, you and the Captain will be well rewarded."
Chapter 4
Summer was backstage getting herself together. This cruise was a make or break for her. If she did well here, the club in Vegas would have to hire her back. She heard the emcee introduce her. Taking a deep breath, she put on a smile and walked out on stage. Taking the microphone, she told the audience she would take requests instead of singing a set of tunes. One of the guests requested, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” It so happened that was one of Summer’s favorite songs. As she sang, her voice seemed to float over the crowd.
Mark looked out of the corner of his eye at Michael, who turned to look at him. The look in his eyes made her turn away quickly, her cheeks blushing as she saw the look in them.
After an hour, Summer bowed and left the stage, heading directly to the Captain’s table.
“Beautiful, Ms. Rayne!” the Captain said as he held her chair.
“Thank you,” she shyly responded.
The Captain signaled the waiter to begin the meal. After several courses, the guests applauded Mimi for an excellent meal. Brenda asked Summer if she would sing some more. Summer replied she would be doing another show in an hour.
Around eleven, the guests left the restaurant. As some of the girls had gotten to know each other, they decided to walk on the promenade and enjoy the cool ocean breeze.
“Would you care to take a short walk with me?” Mark asked Michael.
Michael nodded. “It will have to be rather short because I am very tired and I want to rest.”
Felina left to walk the promenade by herself. She was not in a good mood. Her attempts to have the Captain get her a suite had failed. He told her that he was specifically instructed not to give her a suite. She seethed underneath, hating her father more and more.
Victoria and Brenda stood at the rail. “I love the way you write,” Brenda told Victoria. “Your characters seem so real. It was like you knew them personally.”
“Thank you. I wish I had known them, but they are only in my imagination,” she said shyly.
Catrina and Suzanne stopped to look out over the water. “Is this your first time taking a cruise?” Suzanne asked.
“No, but it is my first vacation in a few years. Running a bookstore by myself I don’t get a lot of time to vacation.”
“What kind of books do you sell?”
“I have a variety, but mainly I sell books that deal with different kinds of occult – religion, witchcraft, etc.”
Ann and Bethany walked towards the onward side of the boat. “I understand you to say you are from Wyoming. You’re a ways from home,” Ann said.
“I thought getting away from everything would be the best for right now. Running a cattle ranch isn’t easy. What are you here for?”
“I’m a psychologist; otherwise known as a headshrinker. And being a headshrinker you wouldn’t believe some of the problems I have heard. Once they tell you, they expect you to have all the answers. It got to the point I was needing someone to solve my own problems. It’s hard to think psychologists would need one of their own, but it just proves we’re human like anyone else.”
Clarice had walked out of the restaurant alone. She needed to be able to get somewhere and watch. She heard a voice behind her. She turned, taking an exasperated breath. The nerd was catching up with her.
“Hey! Want some company?” Dinah asked.
Clarice didn’t feel like company, but decided to tolerate the presence of the mousy young lady.
Mark and Michael stood on the stern side. “Where do you come from if you don’t mind me asking?”
“From the Dallas area. How about you?”
“From Houston. I run a Harley-Davidson dealership. I do pretty well, but right now I’m in the middle of a contract war with some dealership from Dallas. Maybe you’ve heard of them, McFee’s Hogs.”
Michael heard just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Can’t say that I have. Sounds like a real stupid name for a dealership.” Remaining as placid as possible.
“Oh, thought maybe you could tell me something a little more about them. Right now we’re in somewhat of a war of words – more like a contract to sell a new motorcycle called the “Rude American.”
“I’m sorry but I don’t know anything about motorcycles. Have you and the owner ever met face to face?”
“No. The sorry son-of-a-bitch is too scared for that.”
Michael turned away, grinding her teeth. “If you only knew,” she thought to herself. “Perhaps you will one day,” she said as she turned back to him. “I had better get to my cabin. I am rather tired.” Mark escorted her to her cabin. Michael thanked him, then entered, shutting the door.
Chapter 5
The purser, the Captain, and the man in the restaurant met in the purser’s cabin, going over each of the women’s background and then the plans. “We still have a problem, Felina Vander. Her father put her on the ship, but, from the way he talked, she was on her own.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. If she has an accident then no one is to blame,” the man said.
“Everything is set then.”
Mark was in his room. He couldn’t believe he had struck out with Mikki, as she called herself. This one was going to be a tough nut to crack. Then he thought to the message he had received from Glen. Seems there was another job for them. He wondered what Mikki would think if she knew of his “side” job.
The boat pulled into Villa de Morte two days later. As the women left the boat, they were told a hotel had been booked for them. The next day they would be going on a tour, then attend a celebration the town was having.
Michael had looked for Mark as she left the boat. When she asked, she found out he had departed earlier. She was disappointed. She had developed a rather special liking for him. The two days had been fun as they had spent them together dancing, swimming, and dining.
The girls checked in, again Felina and Michael having rooms next to each other. Michael sighed, thinking sarcastically why. She heard Felina do nothing but complain about the room service, her room not up to her expectations. It was annoying to her and it was getting on the others’ nerves also.
The next day was steaming when they boarded the tour bus. Felina was grateful the bus was air-conditioned as her make-up had begun to melt. The tour guide showed them the plaza, one of the first mission churches of Spain, plus they stopped off at a museum to see several works of art and rare Incan pottery.
Dinah looked the pottery over carefully. She asked the tour guide where the pieces came from. The guide answered they had come from a newly found site that was still being dug up in the mountains. This was exactly what Dinah had come to see. It was there she was to meet the man who found it and work with him.
They stopped at a small café for lunch. The girls found the food excellent, except for Felina, who was craving real food from a “civilized” restaurant, as she put it.
Brenda had to drink several bottles of water. She had ordered a very spicy beef dish. Her eyes watered and her nose ran as she ate the dish. The other girls also had to drink several bottles as some had ordered some very hot dishes. It didn’t bother Michael much as she was used to the spicy food.
After lunch, they were taken to the outskirts of town and shown an Incan dig. Dinah was ecstatic as it was a small village.
It was five o’clock when they got back to the hotel. The girls went to their rooms to rest as the celebration would begin at eight o’clock.
Chapter 6
Mark had taken a jeep that had been waiting for him at the dock. He checked the glove compartment. Sure enough, there was a map showing the route to take. He drove for 24 hours straight, finding himself at an abandoned village close to the border. He saw Glen by one of the buildings, waiting.
“On time,” Glen said. “Want something to eat?”
“I could use a bite. Who’s cooking?”
“Rock.”
Mark grunted but at this point he didn’t care.
“How was the boat ride?”
“Not bad. Found myself the only man at the Captain’s table. The company was very interesting.”
Glen chuckled. “Surrounded by women I take it.”
“You got it. Met one that was a real looker on the outside, but tough as nails underneath.
Glen laughed. “Come on. We got things to talk over.”
The guys sat while Glen explained how they were going to get in and get out. It would take them at the most a week to get there and back, providing everything went as planned. The rendezvous point would be at the river, where they would meet a boat to take them to the border, where it would leave them off to make their way back here. He told them to get plenty of rest as they would be leaving early the next morning.
Glen pulled Mark over to the side. “What about the ‘company’?”
“They were from everywhere. One though, a real snotty rich bitch, barely talked to anyone, but she was built. I caught her name – Vander, I think.”
Glen’s head shot up. “Vander?” Did she have real dark hair?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you know her?”
“No, but I’ve heard of her. Daddy is mega rich. From what I’ve heard, she’s known as ‘the bitch’.”
“I can see why. She needs a real attitude adjustment.”
Chapter 7
The girls went to the plaza dressed in clothes they had bought at a local store that afternoon. When they arrived, the festival was in full swing. What had been a sleepy port town had been transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors, lights, and streamers. The local citizens were already dancing.
All the girls, except Felina, began dancing ; even shy Victoria. After a couple of tunes, the girls sat at the tables that surrounded the plaza. Some waiters came over and gave them each a mug of beer
Felina had chosen to sit by herself instead of joining her companions. She ordered a large glass of wine, which she chugged down as soon as she got it, ordering another one. She looked with envy at the other girls, dancing, laughing, and singing. “They don’t care. No one does,” she said bitterly to herself.
The man from the boat watched the women closely. He saw not all of them were there. He slowly walked around looking for the last one. Then he spotted Felina sitting by herself. “We’ll start with her,” he told the two men who were with him. “I expect her to leave most anytime.” They watched from a table not far from her.
Felina was on her fourth. The heat, and the fact that she was drinking the glasses rather fast, began to make her head swim. She decided to go back to the hotel to lie down. As she got up, she began to reel, having to hold on to the table for support. Steadying herself, she slowly started walking to the hotel. She had just gotten out of range of the lights when a hand came from behind and covered her face. She struggled but soon passed out. One of the men carried her away, quickly going down a side street to a warehouse that had seen better days. Putting her on the floor, he tied her hands and blindfolded her, then went back to the plaza.
Brenda began looking around. “Hey, has anyone seen Felina?”
A groan came from Ann and Dinah. “Who cares? Don’t spoil our fun by bringing her name up.”
“She’s probably gone back to the hotel,” Mimi said.
“I guess so, but just the same, I’m going to check on her,” Brenda said, getting up to leave.
The men saw her heading toward the hotel. Following quietly, they waited till she was just about a block from the hotel. Just like Felina, Brenda felt a hand cover her face, a strange smell filling her notes before she passed out. She too was taken down a side street to a warehouse, her hands tied and a blindfold wrapped around her eyes.
“What’s keeping Brenda?” It’s been half an hour,” Dinah said with concern. “I’m getting worried. You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” Mimi said. “Maybe we should look though.”
The girls split up into two’s, going in different directions, the man watching which way they went. Getting a group of men together, he told them to follow the girls and bring them to the warehouse.
CHAPTER 8
Michael shook her head. “What’s going on?” she asked. No one answered. The last thing she remembered was a foul smell going up her nose before she passed out.
“Why can’t I see?” She heard the groans of the others as they came out of their stupor. “I can’t see!” Ann shouted.
“My hands feel like they’re tied!” Summer groaned.
The creak of a door caught their attention. “Buenos dias, senoritas. How do we feel this morning? I hope you all slept well.”
“Who are you?” Victoria asked nervously. “Why are we like this?”
“It is not important who I am, but it is important I get you to where you are supposed to go.”
“Supposed to go?” Michael’s mind till a bit hazy.
The girls felt themselves lifted up by the arm, then guided towards a door. The heat of the day hit them as soon as they stepped outside.
“Where are we going?” Suzanne asked.
“That is not for you to know. Only that you arrive safely.”
“We’re supposed to go back to the ship. They’re going to wonder why we’re late and come looking for us,” Bethany said.
They heard a truck being back up slowly. “Now senoritas, you will be loaded on to a truck. So please sit still as soon as you are put on.”
The girls were put on. When Felina’s turn came, she cursed the. “Keep your fuckin’ hands off me!” The man began lifting her, Felina kicking her legs. “Let me go!” Her foot connected with the inside of the man’s leg. The man scrunched his face, almost dropping her. She felt something hard against her head. “Senorita, I would suggest you cooperate or there will be only eleven of you, which would make my boss very unhappy,” he said through clinched teeth.
Felina was roughly shoved onto the floor of the truck. The others were helped on. A flap was pulled down over the back. “Vamanos, compadres! We have only four hours to get to the river.” The truck took off down a bumpy back road.
In the mean time, the rooms the girls had stayed in were cleaned. On the ship, their luggage was taken off, but not before it was rifled through. The men grinned as they helped themselves to whatever – jewelry, cameras, watches. One man called their attention. He showed them a gun taken from one of the suitcases. They looked further to find a badge and identification.
“So, we have a spy in the lot.”
“Wonder if she was sent to spy on us.”
“I wouldn’t worry. They will assume she was fingered and is dead.”
‘What about the hot-blooded one? The one with the bad mouth.”
The man laughed. “It will be the same for her also.”
CHAPTER 9
It was a bone-jarring four-hour ride. The girls were sweating and suffocating from the heat and confinement. The smell of rotting fish filled their nostrils as the truck came to a halt. They heard the gate open up, rough hands setting them down. “Get them aboard quickly! We have to be at the rendezvous in three days!”
The girls were half dragged to the boat and roughly set down on the front end. Felina was cursing every step of the way. Her constant barrage of words made the man go over to her and grip her collar. “Senorita, I would again suggest you be quiet for the trip down river. You remind me of the noisy monkeys which are hunted by the tribesmen for food.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when she remained quiet.
“When are our blindfolds going to be taken off?” Bethany asked.
“As soon as we reach the rendezvous.”
“How long will that be?”
“When we tell you.”
The girls sat under an awning, which provided little shade from the sun. The air was heavy, making it hard to breathe. Catrina soon began wheezing. The man went over to her. “What is wrong?”
“I..I..can’t..breathe..in..heat..like..this. I.. have..asthma..and..need..my..breathalyzer..to..breathe,” she gasped.
“What is this breathalyzer?”
“It..is..a..small..thing..I..put..to..my..mouth..then..I..press..it..to..help..clear..my..lungs. I..have..to..have..it..with..me..at..all..times. It..is..in..my..pocket.”
The man felt her skirt, finding the small object. “I have it.”
“Put..it..to..my..mouth..then..squeeze..it…a couple..of times.”
The man put it to her mouth and pressed down twice. Catrina felt her lungs open up. He pulled it out. “Is that enough?”
“Yes, thank you.” He put it back in her pocket.
Some of the girls asked if they could use a bathroom. They were told gruffly they would have to wait till they reached their destination. A couple of them protested till the man finally gave in. Getting one of the guards, he had him take the women, one at a time, to a spot behind the boiler, telling him to untie their hands and use the container set there for that purpose. Each girl took her turn, the guard standing there to retie her hands. When they were through, the other men asked him what they looked like underneath. In Spanish he told his companions what they looked like. The girls didn’t understand what was said, but from the whistles they had a feeling they were being talked about.
The boat floated down river, the sounds of the jungle around them. Every so often the girls would hear a growl coming from the riverbank or something bumping the boat. One of them asked nervously what had hit the boat. The man laughed and told them it was one of the crocodiles wanting something to eat. The girls shrank back against the crates.
CHAPTER 10
Three days later the boat slowed and came to a stop. “We are here, senoritas. Time to leave and change boats for your next ride.”
“How long this time?” Clarice asked as she was getting up.
“Who is to say? It could be a day, two days, or more.”
The girls were taken off the boat then marched for what seemed an hour through a well-worn path. They heard voices, the familiar smell of rotting fish now mixed with unwashed bodies. They heard boards creak beneath their feet, and then were told to take a step down.
The girls were exhausted from the heat and having eaten virtually nothing since they were kidnapped. They leaned against each other and one by one, went to sleep. They woke up to a sudden jolt. Once again the girls were lifted by the arm and taken off the boat.
“This is it, senoritas. Time for you to see where you are.”
They felt the ropes being cut from their hands. They rubbed their wrists as their blindfolds were removed. The glare of the sun made them squint, making them shade their eyes till they became focused. By this time Felina had had enough. She began cursing the men for her ill treatment and her being hungry.
“Please, senorita! Shut your mouth!”
“Who are you to tell me to shut my mouth! I’ll do it when I get good and ready.”
“Felina, please do as the man asks,” Suzanne groaned.
“Yes, please!” the rest of them added.
“I will not! I’ll talk and how I please!”
Felina kept on. The girls shook their heads. The man finally had enough. Grabbing a sweaty blindfold, he put it tightly over her mouth to the relief of everyone. Felina tried to untie it till a knife was put to her throat. “Senorita, I do this because I am tired of hearing your mouth! You cackle like the jungle birds.”
The girls clapped. Michael raised her hands in the air. “Hallelujah, there is a God!” Felina gave her a dirty look.
“One of you men hold on to the senorita when we leave.” Turning to the girls. “We walk from here to our destination.”
“Please give us some water!” Summer begged.
The girls, except for Felina, were given small sips of water from a canteen.
“Vamanos!” he said.
The group marched into the thick jungle. Felina was being pushed by the man assigned her, grateful he would not have to hear her mouth.
It was tough going. The men had to hack a trail through the dense foliage. The group was soon covered in sweat, which made the trek that much harder as they were constantly slapping at the insects which seemed to abound.
Already weak from hunger and the heat, the girls walked slowly, barely able to take steps. Several times they had to stop to rest, plus Catrina had to use her breathalyzer frequently to breathe. The girls began holding on to each other for support. When they thought they couldn’t take another step, the man told them to stop. The girls sighed in relief, grateful for the respite.
The headman continued up the trail till he came to a compound. He went up to the gate and told the guards. One of them went inside. Twenty minutes passed. The headman returned, saying they were at their final destination. Groaning, the girls got up and walked the short way, going through the gate, glad they would get some rest at least.
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