Delta. How long had it been since she’d gazed into those intense emerald eyes? It felt like an eternity. Three months ago, Megan had needed to find herself, to see the world and her place in it. She needed to completely let go of the girl prostitute and embrace Megan Osbourne, the woman. And here, in Costa Rica, it was as if she had risen from the dead, and found a nearly insatiable thirst for life.
At first, Delta had balked at the idea of her three-month excursion, but in the end, she’d understood why Megan needed to go. This wasn’t about their relationship—it was about Megan’s relationship with herself. What Delta didn’t know—couldn’t know—was that in the rainforest, Megan had discovered that she wasn’t as far away from herself as she’d thought. She realized that she simply needed to find that one thing that would motivate her every morning. She had to find the spark and ignite it within herself. And in a few short weeks, she had done just that.
When Professor Juan Carlos first introduced her to his nephew, Augustine, Megan thought he was just a Tico, or native Costa Rican, with nothing better to do than visit with his uncle’s foreign interns. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
The moment Augustine introduced Megan to all of the incredible sights and sounds of the rainforest, she fell in love with it. Every morning, amazing sounds filled the fresh air, and the beauty tickled and teased her senses. It was the most tranquil place she had ever been; perfect for finding who she was. She discovered not only peace and serenity in nature, but also a passion she never knew existed. In a matter of days, she learned that Augustine wasn’t a bored young man visiting his uncle; he was a bounty hunter tracking down poachers who illegally entered the rainforest to remove various exotic, and often endangered, species for profit. Lots of profit.
On their first trek out, Augustine showed her the scarlet macaws. Megan was captivated by their long, red tail feathers waving in the wind, by their magnificence. Augustine went on to tell her of the horrible way the birds were captured, and Megan knew then and there that she had found the direction lacking in her life. On that day, Megan discovered a purpose greater than herself, and it was the first time in her life she felt like she was finally traveling on the right path.
For the first part of her stay, she and Augustine spent hours observing the splendor of the rambunctious parrots—how they chatted to each other as they flew, how they lovingly preened each other, and took turns feeding and caring for their young. The idea that someone was forcibly removing them from their beautiful habitat made her sick. When she saw their brutal entrapment at the hands of the poachers, she could no longer just watch. She had to stop them. That commitment had brought her here.
And where, exactly, was here? Megan knew they were somewhere deep in the rainforests of La Amistad Park in the Talamanca mountains, but precisely where was anybody’s guess. As the largest international park, it took up ten percent of Costa Rica’s land. It would take a very determined individual to rescue them.
Poor Delta, Megan thought as her mind made the connection immediately between rescue and the only woman who could do it. She’d be so worried. No doubt, she was either on her way to, or already in, Costa Rica. That was the kind of woman Delta was. She would tear this tiny country apart to find Megan. No proverbial stone would go unturned—on that, Megan would bet her life. The problem would be staying alive long enough for Delta to find her.
“They’re coming,” Siobhan whispered, pulling away in fear. Megan, yanked from her thoughts, listened intently. Yes, she could hear the crunching of their military boots as they made their way along the narrow trail.
“Please, Megan, I couldn’t live with myself if they do anything to me. I...I have a fiancé back home, and he...”
Megan’s heart dropped at the sight of this cowering woman. Siobhan was probably right about not surviving the ordeal of repeated rapes and nightly sodomies. Not many women could. Even if Siobhan were able to survive the physical abuse, her spirit would be crushed.
Megan quickly learned to recognize who the “used” women were when they returned to the mines following their personal nights of terror: their hollow, empty eyes and shrinking posture betrayed spirits that had been broken. The nightly ritual of entertaining their captors was eating away at their will to live, for, like prostitutes, they were beaten and humiliated by their captors. Now, fear filled their eyes as night fell...as they waited to see who would be the next victim. So far, Megan figured, nine of the fourteen women she worked the sluice with had been put into service. It was only a matter of time before the men’s sexual perversions ruined the other five.
Being chosen or not wasn’t as much of a concern to Megan as escape. Each night, she timed every move the guards made; she noted patterns, observed routines, did all the things she’d spent the last two years watching Delta and Connie do. Already, she knew what time the men were relieved of their watch posts. Approximately ten minutes after that, they would come to the tents to exact their disturbed notion of pleasure from their captives, which, if Megan had counted correctly, numbered nearly two dozen women, possibly more.
Four men had been brought in the day after Megan arrived at the makeshift camp, but an unsuccessful escape attempt cut short two of their lives. She hadn’t seen the other two men in a couple of days and assumed they, too, were dead. Megan had immediately recognized two reasons as to why the two men got caught. First, they left in the morning, giving the soldiers daylight by which to begin the hunt. That was their greatest error. Second, they went back the way they came, instead of risking unknown territory. Megan would not make those same mistakes when it was her time to leave.
She also knew, by the foulness of their breath, that these men drank heavily every night. This was good. If she could escape sometime between them passing out and dawn, she could get a good five, maybe six-hour head start. And she would not attempt to go back to Rivas, but would head south toward the Panamanian border. A part of her believed they might not even bother to come after her. What chances did a lone woman have in the heart of the rainforest at night? But the way Megan looked at it, even a slim chance was better than being raped night after night by a gang of foul-smelling cutthroats who would kill them once they had everything they came for.
“Megan?”
Looking up from her thoughts, Megan sighed. “What?”
“What should I do?”
Megan studied Siobhan’s soft face and forced a grin. Fingering the bone necklace around her neck, Megan released it and stroked Siobhan’s back. At twenty-one, Siobhan McKinnon had convinced her parents to let her take the holiday of her dreams. One day, while her traveling companion recovered from a stomach virus, Siobhan decided to explore the rainforest on her own. She had been hiking for less than an hour when she found herself being dragged into a waiting car, to eventually end up here. Alone and frightened, she seemed grateful that Megan had taken her under her wing. Only now, the guards wanted one or both of them, and Megan wasn’t sure how protective her wing would be. “I know you’re scared, Siobhan. Just remember, there are people back home worth living for.”
Suddenly, the flap door to their tent was unzipped and whipped open to reveal a man wearing green army fatigues and black combat boots, with a silver cross lying against his bare chest. Bending over so he could step into the tent, he glanced at Megan before squatting on his haunches in front of the opening. Grinning, he displayed teeth stained brown from too much tobacco.
“General Zahn wants two of you, especially you,” he said, his alcohol breath fouling the air in the tent as he pointed a dirty finger at Megan. She still hadn’t figured out if these men were real soldiers or civilian drug runners, but she knew enough not to ask. She knew fatigues were a popular item in Central America, but their weapons smacked of the military.
Siobhan scooted closer to Megan and whimpered, but the guard grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. “Whassa matter? Scared of a leetle fun?”
Megan slowly reached over and grabbed his wrist. “Leave her alone,�
�� she snapped.
Caught off-guard, the man glared at Megan, but she did not let go of his wrist. For a moment, his eyes locked on hers, hatred and anger building up like an electrical charge.
“Who gonna make me, bitch? You?” he growled in broken English.
Megan nodded. “I’ll tell the general you don’t think he’s man enough for two women. How well do you think that would go over?”
The soldier looked at Siobhan before slowly releasing his grip. Reaching for his knife, he pulled it from its sheath and put the tip up to Megan’s face. “Maybe you should put something in that mouth to keep it shut. What do you think?”
Megan carefully pushed the knife aside and whispered, “I think you’re a piece of shit.” With that, Megan rammed her fist into his balls, sending him sprawling on the ground outside the tent. Dropping the knife, he doubled over, grabbing his crotch as he struggled for air. Before anyone else could move, another pair of legs appeared at the tent flap.
The second soldier picked up the knife and helped his comrade to a tree stump. He spoke rapidly in Spanish, pointing to Megan and shaking his head. All Megan could make out was that the general wanted them pronto.
When the second soldier finished, the first, Hector, held up his hand. “Un momento.” Megan knew he needed to catch his breath.
A minute later, the guards escorted them to a large, portable structure resembling a mobile home. It had been camouflaged so well she hadn’t noticed it before. Megan wondered how they had gotten something this big so deep into the rainforest without being spotted, but then realized that these men specialized in paying people off to get what they wanted. Payoffs were commonplace in many Latin American countries, especially where drug runners were concerned. And as far as Megan could tell, that was what these men were—drug runners who were diversifying their portfolios by stealing another country’s gold; another poor country that didn’t know there was gold to be stolen.
Reaching for the door, Megan held it for Siobhan before closing it quickly behind them. She turned to face the interior, surprised to find a well-furnished living room decorated with a variety of topographical maps she did not recognize. A love seat stood on one side of the room, with a coffee table and a hammock taking up the rest of the space. A large man whose broad shoulders were covered with gold epaulets stood with his back to them, apparently studying one of the maps. After he placed a red pin on the map, he turned to them and smiled.
“I am General Zahn,” he said with a curt bow, before striding over to stand by a desk with a computer and piles of paper. His dark features were highlighted by thick, unruly eyebrows and a mustache to match. He was impeccably dressed in a khaki general’s uniform bearing several bars and assorted colorful decorations. He held himself like a man used to giving orders.
Folding her arms across her chest, Megan fought to maintain her composure as he evaluated her. God, she hated this scrutiny. “Is this about what I think it’s about, General?”
The General’s lip twitched beneath his mustache. “Please, call me Tito. I thought Hector had explained my wishes.”
“He didn’t get much of a chance, but I’ve dealt with men like you before. It’s no secret what you want.”
General Zahn stepped back and studied Megan. “Believe me...” The general looked at her for a name.
“Megan. I’m Megan, and this is Siobhan.”
“Believe me, Megan, you have never met a man like me, and you haven’t the first idea what a man in my position might want.”
“Spare me. You and your men all want the same thing.”
The general’s face registered acknowledgment. “Ah, yes. I apologize for my men. They are not always...how should I say...genteel?”
Megan felt Siobhan move behind her. She had not uttered a sound, but Megan could sense her fear. One thing remained clear: Siobhan would not mentally or emotionally survive rape. Just the thought was already devouring her. Like so many of the other captives, Siobhan had been a student trekking through Latin America, carrying the telltale backpack of a wanderer, of someone who would not immediately be missed. Some of the other students had been studying various flora and fauna in the jungle, so their abductions wouldn’t be missed until well after Zahn had his share of Tico gold.
“Gen...Tito, what would I have to do to ensure that Siobhan, here, is left alone by you and your men?”
General Zahn’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Do? My dear, are you suggesting that I make a deal with you?”
Heart pounding, palms sweating, Megan stepped forward. She’d seen Delta do this before: throw an opponent off-balance by doing the unexpected. Perhaps if she didn’t act like a captive, he wouldn’t be so quick to treat her like one. “Every man has his price, General. But I’m sure that’s not news to you.”
General Zahn stared at her.
“What’s your price, General? What will it cost to make sure she’s unharmed?”
General Zahn slowly reached out and touched Megan’s hair. On her first visit to San Jose, the Costa Rican capital, Megan realized Latino men were fascinated by, and attracted to, blondes. Never in her life had she seen so many men turn their heads when she walked by. She’d grown used to the many wolf whistles and lascivious expressions yelled to her in Spanish, but she also realized that it was all bark and no bite; it was a part of the machismo culture of Latin America. They might admire a woman from afar, but they usually respected her space.
Pulling at his mustache, General Zahn smiled. “You are either very brave or very foolish.”
Megan grinned. She had met dozens of men like the general when she was on the streets in River Valley. Just because he wore a uniform didn’t change what lay beneath it.
“Fortunately for you...” the general continued, releasing Megan’s hair, “I like women with courage. Who is she to you that you risk your life?”
“She’s a human being, General. And I don’t think she’ll survive what your men have in mind. She’s a good worker. It would be a shame to lose her because of your men’s perverse sexual needs.”
“You believe she can’t handle my men? What about you?”
Megan nodded as she pulled her trump card out. “Can and have. Spare Siobhan the nightly horrors, and I’ll willingly do whatever you please.”
The general stepped up to Megan. He smelled of sweat and cheap cologne. “You’ll do what I wish anyway.”
Megan did not move from his hot breath. “Perhaps. But it could be so much more enjoyable for you, if you were inclined to leave her alone.”
An evil glimmer twinkled in his eyes as he wrapped a meaty arm around Megan’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Now, the smell of cigar and fruit blended with his hot perspiration. “Oh, I think you will be very enjoyable. What is my prize if I do as you want?”
Megan’s lips were inches away from his as she tossed her trump on the table. “You can be like your men and rape an unwilling victim—”
“Or?”
“Or you can have the most incredible sex of your life with a woman who made a very comfortable living pleasing men back home.”
General Zahn was so taken aback, his arm dropped from her shoulder. “You? A whore?”
Megan nodded. “Not just any whore. A very expensive one. So you see, General, you can fuck a limp rag doll, or you can enjoy what I guarantee will be some of the most exciting sexual experiences of your life. The choice is yours.”
General Zahn looked from Megan to Siobhan and back to Megan before shaking his head. “I think too little of you… cómo se dice...”
“Underestimated?” Megan supplied for him.
“Sí. I underestimated you.”
“Men usually do. Beauty does not mean absence of brains, General.”
The general strode over to Siobhan and looked down at her, his disdain apparent. Then, without warning, he backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling against the wall. Megan started toward Siobhan, but the general’s abrupt glare at Megan told her that would not be wi
se. Turning back to a whimpering Siobhan, General Zahn spat, “You are a miserable dog to let this woman deal for your mercy.”
Siobhan held her reddened cheek and started crying.
Throwing open the door, the general grabbed Siobhan, yelled something to Hector in Spanish, and then pushed Siobhan out. When he closed the door once more, he locked it before turning to face her. Megan wondered, for a brief instant, if she hadn’t overplayed her hand.
“Please,” General Zahn said with a sweep of his hand. “Sit down.” Like Jekyll and Hyde, he instantly turned from brutish dictator to charming paramour. The transformation made Megan aware of just how dangerous this man was. She had learned enough from Delta to know that unpredictable enemies were the most menacing.
Sitting on one side of the plaid love seat, she watched as he poured two glasses of brandy. Handing her one, he sat next to her on the sofa. “I may be living in the jungle, but I am no barbarian.” Sipping the alcohol, he rolled the snifter around in his palms. “I bring home and comfort any place I go.”
“And that includes women?”
“My men sometimes lose control, Megan, but I have never taken a woman against her will. I come from a small village near Bogota, where women are held in high regard.”
“So high, you kidnap us, then enslave and rape us?”
General Zahn was no longer smiling. “Take care how you speak to me. We may show regard to women where I am from, but we do not allow their disrespect.”
“I apologize. It’s just so difficult hearing about respect when I see the way your men treat us.”
The general shrugged. “Men who are content are more alert and productive. I do not wish to stay in this jungle any longer than I must.”
Megan set her snifter down and let her eyes take in the room.
Near the computer sat a small fax machine and cell phone. Must have a portable generator supplying power. If I could get to that phone...
Delta Force Page 2