She had switched vehicles more than once, but other than that, the sounds of men speaking to each other in Spanish, which she didn’t understand, along with the blackout blindfold yielded nothing in regard to where she was or where she was going. Or just how many innocent young women were going along on this terrifying ride with her.
She could feel her hair glued to her forehead with her own sweat. Her hands were still tied behind her back, just as they had been for hours on end. The cries continued around her. The floor below her was hard like metal, like what the bed of her uncle’s pickup truck was made of. But they weren’t outside, it was definitely some sort of van––a van that was now beginning to slow, and Carrie felt her body shift to the left as the vehicle turned off the road. She worked at the gag in her mouth with her tongue. She was close to pushing the cloth out past her lips. She didn’t know what good it would do, if any, but maybe if she could convince someone else into spitting theirs out, she could at least have someone to brainstorm with.
She continued to work at the gag. It had completely soaked up any saliva in her mouth, like a splash of water on a cotton ball. Ironically, the rest of her was wringing with sweat. She knew from what Mrs. Beasily said in health class that she was becoming dehydrated. The first sign is usually a headache, and her forehead was pounding. The dry of her mouth made it all the more difficult to work her tongue against the cloth. But she was close. As the van continued to slow, her heart began to pound. As bad as the back of that van was, she would stay in there forever if they would just leave her alone.
The van came to a stop, and she heard doors open and shut. An electric shock of fear burned cold over the top of her skin. Her breathing began to quicken as she anticipated what could possibly be next. Then doors closer to her opened, and she felt the back of the van dip down and warm air whoosh in. They were coming inside to get her. She began to cry. She began to whimper. And as she felt a hand wrap tightly around her arm, she screamed into the gag.
“Stop crying now,” a man with a Spanish accent told her. He wasn’t angry or hostile; it was a soft command. “Everything will be all right now. No need to cry.”
She felt a tug at the back of her head, and before she knew it, bright light pierced her eyes as the blindfold was removed.
“You see, we are not monsters. Whoever took you, they were the monsters. I am here to take you home.”
For the moment, all Carrie could see was a black figure with a bright light silhouetting around him. There were other shadows at the back of the van. She gave a few blinks, trying to move the tears that perpetuated the blur. As her eyes began to adjust, a short man slowly began to be revealed in front of her. As she blinked some more and calmed herself, she could see that though he was Mexican, he looked nothing like the men who took her. He looked more . . . refined. Could what he said possibly be true?
“You are scared, I understand,” the man said. “Those men who took you, they are gone now. I am here to take you back to your family.”
Carrie felt a flutter in her stomach. Could it be true? Could he be taking her back to her parents? To her little sister? Hope swelled inside her. She remembered watching a show once where undercover cops posed as drug addicts and bought from the dealer to catch them in the act. Could this be something like that? Could the switching of vehicles earlier have been this undercover officer taking possession of her?
As she processed this information, the man turned to whoever was outside the back of the van and nodded. She noticed a pistol tucked in the back of his white pants. Then she looked at his belt buckle: a gold H. A very expensive brand, Hermes. She had seen the same belt on some of the fashion bloggers she followed on social media. Then she glanced down at his shoes. They too looked very expensive. And when she caught a glimpse of his watch, it was the unmistakable shape of the watchmaker Hublot. She knew from her obsession with all things fashion that there was no way an undercover officer would be wearing that belt or those shoes, and not in a million years could he afford that watch. They weren’t here to take her home; this was just another step in whatever bad things they had planned for her.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to run.
She glanced around her and saw three more girls, all around her age, all bound and gagged. Carrie took a deep breath in through her nose and back out. She felt the panic creeping up her spine, but what good would panicking do? This most likely wasn’t the first time these men had done something like this, so she knew they had a plan in place if she started to freak out. And it would probably be them knocking her out. She swallowed a hard, dry swallow and decided that she would play along for now. She would wait for an opportunity better than this one; then she would make her escape.
“I’m going to untie you now and remove this terrible thing from your mouth, okay? You don’t have to scream or be scared, I am here to help you. You understand that?”
Carrie nodded.
The other girls were beginning to squeal, and two more men entered the back of the van. The cheesy but well-dressed man walked her out the back of the van. Two men were there to help her down, and while they were untying her, she was looking directly at one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. And noticing behind her, she realized she was at an airport. For a brief moment, that feeling of maybe, just maybe, they were actually saving her rushed through her. The pretty woman was definitely out of place, and by the look on her face, she wasn’t happy. Or maybe what she was seeing, saddened her? Like she couldn’t believe someone had done this to Carrie and these other girls. Could that mean they were actually rescuing Carrie?
“I can’t watch this,” the pretty woman finally said. Then she turned and walked away. There was anger in her stride.
Carrie couldn’t have been more confused. The man untying her shouted for the woman to stop, but she just kept walking. The man said something to another man beside him in Spanish, then went walking after the lady. Carrie was trying to piece together the dynamic of their relationship, but what did she know about relationships? She was only sixteen. She looked back over her shoulder toward the van, and that was when thoughts of being saved left her forever. Because there was another van, with more girls like her in it. And she turned around just in time to see a man hit a girl, who was making a lot of noise, on the back of the head with the end of his gun.
Carrie folded up inside herself, doing her best to shut everything down. If there was a way to go numb all on her own, she needed to dig deep and find it.
Her sanity––and her survival––could very well depend on it.
20
The Girl Who Knew Too Little
Bob had to circle Xander’s jet in a holding pattern while a smaller private plane ascended into the air from the runway below. After landing safely, they taxied over to the small private airport terminal, and a hot breeze blew inside the jet as Bob lowered the door.
“Stay put while the missus. and I go and poke around.” Xander smirked and gave a wink to Kyle, then grabbed Sam by the hand.
Sam quickly removed her hand from his. As usual, unamused by what he found humorous. She turned her attention to Kyle.
“Kyle, while we probe the staff at the airport for information, can you check in with Marv and see if he’s been able to gain clearance with the Mexican government to tap into surveillance cameras in this area?”
“Of course.”
“We also need any footage he can find from the kidnapping in Puerto Vallarta. At least to see who we are dealing with, and get a read on what type of vehicle they are using. We also need pictures of the latest kidnapping victim, and any relevant information about her.”
“Done.” Kyle began to dial Marv on his phone. “But what if he hasn’t obtained clearance from Mexico?”
Jack swiveled around in his chair. “Tell ’em to get that info anyway.”
Kyle looked from Jack back to Xander.
Xander smiled. “What he said.”
Xander shaded his eyes from the sun,
and he and Sam made their way toward the airport entrance. In just a few strides from the plane his skin was on fire, and it felt as if his shoes were melting into the pavement beneath his feet. In the distance, a van pulled out of the airport parking lot, but his mind didn’t register anything beyond that.
“What makes you think anyone in here is going to cooperate with a couple of inquisitive white people?” Xander asked Sam as he looked at her through squinted eyes.
Sam tugged at the zipper on her purse.
“Still weird seeing you with a purse.”
“I am a woman you know, Xander.”
“Whatever you say.” He laughed.
Then Sam produced a thin black leather case that looked like a folded wallet.
“You’re going to pay them off?”
Sam opened the wallet and inside was a picture of her next to the acronym CIA.
“There are some perks to being backed by your government.”
Xander smiled.
“I’ve seen better pictures of you.”
Sam slapped him none too gently across the face with the leather case. Xander acted as if he were really hurt, and then smiled. “Why, Mrs. King, is this our first fight?”
Sam rolled her eyes and walked into the air-conditioned lobby of the private airport. Xander followed, but instead of enjoying the cool air that swirled around him, a familiar feeling tickled at the back of his subconscious. He stopped just inside the door to indulge the feeling. A flash of the van he watched exit the airport a few moments ago floated in front of his eyes––the source of the tickle that set off alarm bells in his head.
Sam turned around. “Are you all right?”
He wasn’t sure if he was or not. The feeling that something was off about the van wasn’t leaving him. He nodded to Sam and told her to go ahead. He watched as she walked toward the front desk. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a woman staring out the window in the direction of the airport exit. Her back was turned, but there was something very familiar about her. Xander took a step to the left and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Kyle, asking him to have José remind him of the name of the undercover FBI agent.
Eliza Sanchez, Kyle replied.
Xander knew he had never met Eliza Sanchez, but in some corner of his mind this woman in front of him was familiar, and he didn’t know if the two could be connected or not.
The woman by the window was wringing her hands. There was clearly something bothering her. When she brushed her long dark hair back behind her ear, it reminded Xander of why she seemed familiar. In a flashback to the pool in Cabo when he watched Gabriela walk out of the water in all her gorgeous splendor, she had tucked her hair in exactly the same way.
Xander’s blood ran cold.
What was she doing here?
Could it be a coincidence?
Was he going to run into Antonio and his thugs?
He didn’t have time for all that nonsense, but he couldn’t avoid her either. As Sam tried her hand at questioning the woman at the front desk, Xander made his way to Gabriela. There wasn’t a whole lot of noise in the lobby, so the squeak of the bottom of his shoes against the polished tile announced his arrival before he could call out to her. When she turned toward him, her face wore a look that was nothing short of shock.
“Xander? What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Gabriela, I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
She stumbled over her words, trying to find the right thing to say.
“I-I . . . I am on my way back to Los Angeles.”
Xander took a few steps closer. He could see that she was shaking. He closed the distance and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
She told him yes, but he could see a resounding no in her water-filled brown eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. She was trembling, and she began to sob into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze before he pulled her back and looked into her eyes.
“Gabriela, I need you to tell me what’s going on. I can help you. Why are you here? Mazatlán isn’t exactly a stopover from Cabo to LA.”
“I can’t, Xander. There is nothing you can do. I made a terrible mistake getting involved with Antonio, or whoever the hell he really is. I just need to get back to the States, I need to find out who to call. The police, the FBI, I don’t know!”
She once again began to cry. Xander was confused.
“Wait, Antonio is here? Now?”
She shook her head no and gave a hard swallow, trying to stop the tears. Xander could see the fear in her eyes.
“Gabriela, you need to tell me what’s going on. I can help.”
“Is everything all right?” Sam said as she walked up to the two of them. “Do you know this woman?”
“Yes,” Xander said. “It’s a long story.”
“It always is,” Sam said.
“Who is she, Xander?” Gabriela asked as she finally calmed herself. “What is going on? Why are you here?”
Sam said, “We don’t have time for this, Xander. The lady at the front desk had no flight plan for the plane that took off just before we landed. She described the man that chartered the plane, and it sounds like Francisco.”
“Francisco?” Gabriella looked surprised. “Are you talking about the white plane with the red stripe?”
Sam shifted her weight and put a hand to her hip. “Yes.”
Gabriela looked back at Xander. “That was Antonio leaving in that plane.”
Xander’s head swam. They were there to find Francisco Romero. What kind of coincidence could it be that Antonio was here? And Gabriela? It wasn’t a coincidence. That realization hit him with the force of a moving train. And when he thought back to the moment in Cabo when he picked Antonio up and threw him in the pool, then pictured Javier Romero back at his mansion in Sinaloa, he suddenly realized that there was a resemblance.
“What is Antonio’s last name?” Xander asked her.
He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Romero.”
Xander looked at Sam and found that she had already caught on. She immediately pulled out her phone.
“Kyle. Could you please ask José what Francisco Romero’s middle name might be?”
Xander looked at Gabriella, who was clearly lost. Then back to Sam.
“He’s sure?” Sam said into the phone. “We need you and Zhanna inside please.” Sam ended the call. “Francisco Antonio Romero.”
Xander was quiet for a moment. He couldn’t believe it.
Sam must have seen the confirmed realization in Xander’s eyes. She held her arms out at her sides, giving him the eye. “You want to fill me in on what the bloody hell is going on?”
21
Sam Doesn’t Speak Country
Kyle and Zhanna walked into the airport just as Xander finished explaining to Sam that the run-in he had in Cabo was actually with Francisco. She was trying to digest the coincidence.
“I obviously didn’t know at the time who he was, but it makes sense now, knowing what we know,” Xander explained.
Sam looked at Gabriela, then back to Xander. “Must you always complicate things by involving women?”
“Complicate things? She should be able to make this easier.” Xander took Gabriela by the hand. “We need to know everything there is to know about Francisco. Not the least of which, where his plane is headed.”
“Who are you guys?” she asked. “I’m not implicating myself in what he is into. I had no idea, I thought he was into real estate and maybe some small drug thing on the side. He told me he would help me get an acting job. Said he knew some producers in Hollywood. Maybe I should call a lawyer.”
Sam flashed Gabriela her CIA credentials.
“Really?” Xander said.
“CIA?” Gabriela’s demeanor shifted from concerned to downright terrified. “I don’t have anything to do with this, Xander, you have to believe me. As soon as I s
aw the girls in the back of the van, I told Antonio––Francisco to leave and never speak to me again. I swear! That’s why I’m here, and not on that plane, and not in that van!”
Xander’s stomach dropped. He knew exactly which van she was talking about. If they had landed just ten minutes earlier, those girls would be safe and Francisco Romero would be dead or in custody.
Xander shifted focus.
“Kyle, get us a car, preferably an SUV. Sam, see if they have the tail number to Francisco’s plane, and get Marv to find a way to track it.” Xander turned to Gabriela, took her shoulders in his hands, and looked sternly into her teary eyes. “Tell us everything you know about where the plane and the van are going, and who exactly is inside both.”
“He’ll kill me if I tell you. He said he would find me and kill me if I told anyone what I saw.”
“I’ll kill you right here, right now if you don’t,” Sam said. Not an ounce of remorse in her tone.
“Sam,” Xander said, “you’re not helping. Call Marv.”
Sam held his glare for a moment, then diverted it to her phone. Kyle and Zhanna headed over to the Hertz rental counter, leaving Xander alone with the frightened Gabriela. Xander moved the hair from the right side of her face, back behind her ear, trying to convey to her with his eyes that he would take care of her.
“What did you see, Gabriela? Where are they going?”
“It was horrible.” She began to sob. “They were just stuffed in the back of that van, tied up, bags over their heads. Blindfolds over their eyes. It was awful!”
“How many girls were in the back of the van?”
“There were two vans, but they consolidated to one. Six in that van . . . I think.”
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