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Delta Force

Page 3

by Alex Westmore


  Turning back to the general, Megan sighed. If she could get just one call out, she was sure Delta and Connie would find her, knew they were already looking. They had to be. As she realized there was communication equipment nearby, Megan’s spirits rose. She understood from years on the street how vital hope was to everyone’s survival—and she was going to survive this, no matter how many greasy, dirty men touched her body.

  “How could a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you prostitute yourself?” the general asked.

  Megan held his gaze. “Americans do whatever it takes to survive.”

  General Zahn inched closer, the leering grin now back on his face. “Like spend the night with me?”

  As his face neared, his fierce brown eyes bored into hers. Nodding slightly, Megan stared back into his eyes.

  He might touch her body, but he would never break her spirit.

  Never.

  San Jose, Costa Rica, was much like any American city: too many cars, too much smog, and not enough trees. Still, Delta was surprised by its overall modernity. She had half-expected to land on a dirt runway somewhere outside a small village, not this hustling bustling city complete with taxis, buses and traffic lights. Connie’s right: I need to travel more.

  “Why do we call this place underdeveloped?” Delta asked Connie as they waded through customs.

  Connie finished her discussion with the customs agent before answering Delta. “They do speak English here, Del. Keep your voice down, will you?”

  Lowering her voice, Delta spat, “Then why are you speaking Spanish?”

  Connie grabbed her bag and headed out of the customs area. “It’s their native language. You stand a better chance of getting answers if your questions are in Spanish.”

  “Then I’m screwed.”

  “Why? Because the extent of your Spanish is taco and burrito?”

  “Don’t forget cuarto de baño.”

  Connie shook her head. “No, you don’t forget. The way you eat, you’ll probably use that term the most.”

  Grinning, Delta pushed open the glass doors and was hit by the tropical heat and humidity—she hadn’t anticipated that at seven in the morning. But then, Connie had warned her. In fact, what hadn’t Connie told her about this tiny country? Nine hours of Costa Rican history on the plane and Delta thought she would surely strangle her best friend.

  “This reminds me of Hawaii,” Delta said, stepping out into the moist air.

  Hawaii. She and Megan had gone there right after Miles’s killers were sentenced. It had been one of the most romantic trips Delta had ever experienced. They spent their days on the beach, shopping, reading, just enjoying each other’s company. They did the glass-bottom boat ride, the windsurfing, the parasailing, and endless hours of snorkeling. Megan’s lust for adventure, her desire to experience everything on the island was equal to her sexual appetite At night, they took long strolls along the beach, slowly undressing each other in the surf. It was the vacation of their lives. How long ago it seemed.

  Now, Delta was afraid if she slowed down long enough to think about the possibility of losing Megan, the fear would paralyze her. She had to keep focused and remain calm. Megan needed her to think clearly and rationally.

  “So...where do we start?” Delta asked.

  Connie peered at her watch and stretched. “We’ve got reservations at the Gran Hotel. We’ll make calls from there to firm up our plan. I’m still not sure I like the idea of splitting up. You don’t speak a lick of Spanish—”

  “But you said some Ticos speak English.”

  “Some. Not all. If you’re talking about going to the town where Augustine lives, we’ll be traveling through towns where it’s Spanish only. Didn’t you read any of those brochures I gave you on the plane?”

  Delta shrugged as she watched two cabs pull away from the curb. They looked more like minivans with rusty racks on top than they did taxis.

  “Del? You okay?”

  Turning toward Connie, Delta shrugged again. She felt so out of place, so foreign, so...alone. They were in a country Delta knew nothing about, looking for the most important woman in her life, and she didn’t know where to begin. “It’s hard, Con. To slow down and make plans when it takes everything I have not to jump in a taxi and head somewhere. Anywhere.” Delta looked out at the crosswalk as a family of four scooted across. “I’m afraid to think about never seeing Megan again.”

  Connie laid her hand on Delta’s shoulder. “Then don’t think about it. We’ll find her, Del. We may have to tear every inch of this country apart, but we are going to find her.”

  Delta glanced up at the sky; it looked like it might rain. “How can you be so sure?”

  Hooking her arm through Delta’s, Connie led her across the street. “Because you’re Delta Stevens, that’s why. Come on. Let’s find our hotel.”

  After registering at the Gran Hotel, one of the better cheap hotels in the city, Delta sat on the café’s veranda and sipped excellent coffee, while Connie made arrangements with the car rental agent at the front of the hotel. Setting down her third cup, Delta looked out at the bustling street from their corner table on the veranda. She pulled out the picture of Megan she’d taken off the refrigerator—it was one of Delta’s favorites. Megan’s long blonde hair was tossed casually over one shoulder, and her opaline eyes gazed meaningfully into the camera. Megan was beautiful by anyone’s standards, and her smile could melt Arctic glaciers. That smile and those eyes had captured Delta’s heart a few years ago, when their worlds were light years apart and heading straight for each other. Delta was a beat cop who felt prostitution was a victimless crime. Megan had been a prostitute whose best friend, Miles Brookman, was a cop, and who was brutally killed one night. Megan had helped Delta and Connie bring down the men responsible for his murder. In the ensuing weeks, Megan and Delta fell deeply in love. Since then, Megan had been helping Delta and Connie catch criminals. She never doubted the two super-cops would have found their perp with or without her, but it was still fun to be a part of the process.

  Some time later, when Connie’s life was endangered by an old college rival, Megan had set aside her studies to help find him before he could do Connie any harm. Megan fit so easily into Delta and Connie’s equation that she soon became part of their family.

  It wasn’t easy for many women to understand the ties that bound Delta and Connie together. Hell, Delta wasn’t sure she understood it herself. Gina, Connie’s lover, referred to the relationship as symbiotic. Symbiotic. Delta had had to look it up: Two organisms that need each other in order to survive. That probably was a good way to describe them.

  The blare of a car horn brought Delta back to the present. She was acutely aware that Megan needed her help, and she didn’t even know where to start. For a change, her gut instincts were silent. It was as if once she disembarked the plane, her intuition was left sitting on the seat. Megan had come here to find herself and now...she was literally lost. Irony cut its wicked teeth on Delta’s heart, and she cursed her intuition for failing her.

  As she stared at the picture, Delta wiped a stray tear meandering down her cheek. She would be no good to Megan if she let her emotions run wild: she had to remain levelheaded, and in control. Delta needed to think clearly and plan accordingly. Thank God Connie had come with her, or else Delta might be running through the streets shouting Megan’s name.

  Glancing up from the photo, Delta studied her best friend with amazement as Connie gesticulated and spoke to the man from the car rental agency. Delta had to smile. Connie Rivera was, quite simply, the most remarkable woman Delta had ever known. Fluent in five languages, possessing a black belt in karate and two degrees from MIT, there was nothing Connie could not do. No doubt about it, Connie was the best. And it wasn’t just her job as Research Specialist in the police department that Connie left behind to help Delta; she’d also left her pregnant lover, Gina, to fend for herself. Not many women would be as understanding as Gina and Megan had been in accepting the conditio
ns of Delta and Connie’s relationship. Together, the four women made a nearly unbeatable team, and anyone entering their lives soon learned that Delta and Connie were a package deal. Like the strongest twine, Delta, Connie, Megan and Gina’s lives were interwoven so completely that when one was in trouble, the others came running to help.

  If Gina weren’t pregnant, she would be sitting across the table from Delta at this very minute.

  Sighing heavily, Delta set the photo on the table. She had faced many dangers in her career as a cop for the River Valley Police Department, but none had prepared her for this. A different type of fear had started seeping into her soul, like a slow-acting poison that debilitates the victim. Right now, it took all her strength not to drown in the ‘what ifs.’ What if Megan was hurt? What if Delta couldn’t find her? What if...

  Watching Connie conclude her conversation with the car rental agent, Delta picked up the photo and dropped it in her shirt pocket. When Connie returned and sat down, she looked in her empty mug and signaled to the waitress.

  “What was that all about?” Delta asked.

  “At home, if you want to find out how to get some place, you ask a cab driver. Here, you ask the rental agent.”

  Delta shook her head. “How in the hell do you know so much?”

  Connie’s eyes narrowed. “I read.” Waiting until the waitress poured her more coffee, Connie continued, “You okay?”

  “I’m all right. Just thinking about Megan, that’s all.”

  Connie checked her watch. “What time did you say Liz was meeting us?”

  “Eight-thirty. What time does the embassy open?”

  “It’s probably open now. Things tend to open early here, while it’s still cool. You won’t find much going on in the mid-afternoon, when it’s very hot.”

  Delta started to respond, when a young blonde woman walked up to their table. “Delta?”

  Delta nodded as she and Connie both rose.

  “I’m Liz.”

  Delta reached her hand out and shook Liz’s. “Hi. I’m Delta. This is Connie. Have you heard anything?” Delta asked, pulling a seat out for Liz.

  Liz shook her head. “Nothing. Augustine’s family is sick with worry. They say he’s never stayed away this long.” Liz sat down in the chair with exaggerated weariness. “They’ve called his father. He’ll be flying home on the next plane back.” Liz said something in Spanish to the waitress before returning her attention to Delta. “It took all night to get hold of Augustine’s family. Some of the smaller towns here have only one phone per town.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Liz smiled. “You’re in the capital now, Delta, but some areas are extremely remote. Don’t let San Jose fool you. There’s a wilderness to this country that’s every bit as wild as Africa or the Australian outback.”

  “And you think Megan is in that wild?” This came from Connie, busy scratching notes on a small notepad.

  Liz reached into her large purse and pulled out a book that Delta immediately recognized.

  “Megan’s journal.”

  Handing it to Delta, Liz nodded. “She takes one into the field with her, but uses this one at night. I thought you might find something helpful.”

  Delta took it from her and flipped to the last entry. In Megan’s neatly scripted handwriting, it read:

  Tomorrow’s the day. I have to admit I’m a little nervous, but reporting them doesn’t seem to make a difference. Augustine assures me we can do this, but I’m still hesitant. We’re going deeper into the jungle after them—it should be exciting. I understand the wildlife is much different the deeper you go. The Bribri tribe is still living there, so we will have to be careful not to overstep our bounds. Well, the days are positively flying by, and soon, I’ll return home to Delta—a much better woman than I’ve ever been. I’ve missed sharing my life with her, but I’m sure I can convince her to come back here with me. Once she sees it, I know she’ll fall in love. Well, gotta go.

  Delta handed the journal to Connie. “Was there anything else in her room that might help us?”

  Shaking her head, Liz sighed. “I left everything just the way I found it. I figured you’d want to take a look for yourself.”

  Connie flipped a few pages backwards and quickly read the short entries. “She mentions something here about climbing Chirripo. Is that a mountain?”

  Liz frowned as she thought. “Climbing Chirripo? Yeah, it’s one of the main mountain peaks of the Talamanca mountain range, but she never mentioned going there to me.”

  Connie set the journal down and studied Liz. “Something bothering you?”

  Liz returned Connie’s gaze with confused eyes. “La Amistad and Chirripo are huge. If she really went there, she’ll be impossible to track down.”

  “How impossible?”

  Liz looked out into the streets of San Jose and shook her head. “I don’t know exactly. I’m not as into the rainforest thing as Meg was…is. Sorry.”

  Delta glanced at her watch. She’d had enough talk. It was time for some action. “Let’s assume she and Augustine were going to La Amistad in search of poachers. Just how big is it?”

  Connie quickly flipped open her guidebook and read aloud. “‘La Amistad is 193,929 hectares.’ Whew.”

  Delta shrugged. “And that translates to what?”

  “Approximately 479,000 acres. Give or take,” Connie calculated.

  “That’s wild rainforest acres, Delta. It’s not a stroll through the park, even for an experienced guide.” Liz wiped the sweat beading on her upper lip.

  “What can you tell us about the poachers they were after? How serious a threat are they?”

  Liz’s demeanor changed immediately. “Very dangerous. From what Megan has shared with us, poaching on this scale nets the poachers thousands of dollars, but the risk is huge. Get caught poaching here and you’re going to spend some decent time in one of the horrendous Costa Rican jails. It’s not like in the United States; these guys will shoot anyone who threatens them or gets in their way.”

  “Do you think Megan and Augustine posed a serious threat to them?”

  Liz thought for a moment before answering. “It’s possible. Meg told us that a scarlet macaw goes for anywhere between one and three grand in the States; more in the UK and Canada.”

  Delta nodded. She had already purchased a blue-and-gold macaw as a welcome home present for Megan. She well knew the price of one of those gorgeous birds. “And they might net how many in a week?”

  Liz shrugged. “Ten, twenty, maybe more. Exotics, dead or alive, are big business in rainforest countries, Delta. These guys play for keeps.”

  “Aren’t they worth more alive?”

  “Sure. But only one out of every seven wild birds caught makes it to the US alive, so they have to catch a lot to make money.”

  “This makes me sick,” Connie said, shaking her head.

  Liz nodded. “After they catch the birds, they tape their wings, beaks and feet with duct tape, anesthetize them with brandy or whiskey, roll them in newspapers, stuff them in shoe boxes, and then put the shoe boxes in the hub of the wheels of their cars in order to get them across the border. That doesn’t include what happens to them once they’re out of the country.”

  Delta sighed sadly. No wonder Megan had so wanted to make a difference. “Disgusting.”

  “Yeah, well, so are the prisons here, so you better be careful if you’re going in there after her.”

  Delta and Connie exchanged looks. Delta knew what Connie was thinking. “Liz, I think we should take a look at Megan’s room. Maybe there’s something there that might give us a better idea of what we’re up against.”

  Connie motioned to the waitress, said something to her in Spanish, and handed her a five-hundred colones bill. “Where does Augustine’s family live again?”

  “In a small town called Rivas. It’s right outside La Amistad.”

  “Address?”

  Liz grinned. “They don’t use any. Just ask for Señor August
ine Riner’s finca. The people there are very friendly. They’ll point you in the right direction. Just ask.”

  Delta gulped down the remainder of her coffee, pushed her chair back and rose. Connie glanced up at her, apparently annoyed by this gesture. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I can’t just sit here. There’s work to be done.”

  Reaching across the table, Connie took Delta’s hand. “Thrashing about will only cost us time. We need more information before we go off running into the jungle. She could be right here in San Jose for all we know. Now, sit down and have another cup of coffee so we can figure out our next move.”

  Slowly returning to her chair, Delta sighed and struggled to keep from crying. “Sorry.” Running her hand through her short, curly hair, Delta sighed again. It had been her nature in the past to run headfirst into danger. Doing so now would only endanger Megan; and that wasn’t something she was about to do.

  “It’s okay,” Connie answered softly. “We have to be smart about this, or we could wind up chasing our tails. We need to get as many answers as we can before charging into the jungle.”

  “I know,” Delta replied weakly. The anxiety she had been fighting to suppress was successfully breaking through the surface of her well-constructed facade.

  “Just hang in there. We’ll find her.” Connie turned to Liz. “Would you mind taking us back to your pension so we can have a look at Megan’s room?”

  Liz nodded. “Sure.”

  Connie looked out at the street. “What’s Juan Carlos think about all of this?”

  Liz shook her head. “He thinks Augustine is quite the lady’s man and swept Megan off her feet.”

  “What?” Delta practically jumped out of her chair.

  “It’s just part of the Latin culture, Delta, it’s nothing to—”

  “I couldn’t give a shit about culture, Liz! Hasn’t he done anything to find her?”

  “He did make some calls for us, but I’m afraid Juan Carlos won’t be much help to us.”

 

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