by Scott Cook
“Umberto, what kind of trucks are they?” I asked.
“F-150 extended cabs. They look new.”
I shut the Jeep down and drummed my fingers on the wheel for a long moment. Clay came over and put the ditty bags that once again held the C4 back into the small cargo space.
“Señor?” Umberto prodded.
“Umberto… does the name Monte de Dios mean anything to you?”
There was a long pause, “Si… it is a village in Nicaragua. Not far from the border, off the Pan American Highway.”
“Thank you, Umberto,” I said and turned my comm off.
“What’s going on?” Clay asked.
I grinned at him, “I think we’ve got a target.”
Chapter 12
Interlude: Missy
Missy was a caged lioness.
She paced the small storage room turned holding pen in a restless, fist clenching, teeth grinding rage. It was more than likely that the next person who came through the door, be they man or woman, would receive the full brunt of her fury. She’d do all she could to destroy them, consequences be damned.
She’d been striding up and down the twenty feet between the door and the corrugated back wall for at least the past two hours. Much to the bewilderment of the three kids not to mention the four other women and one scraggly and beaten-down man who’d already been there when the Delaneys arrived.
Her hopes of an escape for even one of them had been dashed almost immediately. The children had been searched thoroughly, although it was thankfully only a careful frisking by one of the women who worked under Garcia. She’d been gentle but conscientious and had found Declan’s phone.
Although the woman hadn’t been able to find the navigation app, thanks to an app-hiding app that she and Clay had placed on everybody’s phones, she’d still confiscated all communication devices. When Declan had protested that he only used it to play games and use a plant and animal identification app, the woman had only smiled and shook her head.
Then she’d been searched.
The same woman who’d searched the kids, Rosalita was her name, had led Missy into a nearby empty tent. Rosalita was a fit and attractive woman in her mid to late twenties and about Missy’s size. Garcia had followed them inside along with another woman. This one was a graying old warhorse with a face like a bulldog and a body like a fire hydrant.
“Have you searched her?” Garcia asked Rosalita firmly.
“Si, nada,” Rosalita had said. “Nothing on her.”
Garcia eyed Missy with a wry smile, “she’s dangerous. A she-jaguar ready to pounce. I want her searched more thoroughly.”
Missy felt a twinge in her belly. They were going to strip search her. She locked her burning eyes onto Garcia’s and growled, “Gonna watch, Garcia? Get a little thrill?”
He scoffed and shook his head, “No, Gato Salvaje, I am not going to watch.”
Garcia turned on his heel and left. Rosalita smiled, “it’s all right, señora.”
Missy chuffed.
The older woman chuckled and said something in rapid Spanish that Missy didn’t quite understand. At her blank look, the woman chuckled again and said in a thickly accented English that was barely more understandable: “he says you are wild cat. Well, I am lead dog. So get out of clothes. Rapido.”
It wasn’t any big deal. Missy had served in the Peace Corps and had changed clothing and bathed in front of other women many times. The war dragon was a bit rough and had hands like an ape, but it was over quickly.
Afterward, she’d been led back out into the camp and then she and the kids had been ushered into the big prefab structure and into a holding area with five other prisoners. The area stank, although only of old sweat and mildew. There was a small bathroom alcove with a closing door, thankfully. That was at least one indignity they’d be spared.
She’d heard and read of more than one horror story about prisoners in situations like this being kept locked together in an empty room with only a bucket or two to use as a toilet. Very quickly, the waste would overflow and people would take to urinating and shitting in any corner they could find. Just the thought of it made Missy’s stomach turn and made the cold fountain of fear she felt for her children rise up ferociously inside her.
“You’re just gonna wear yourself out,” The man, an Australian tourist said mildly.
His beard was long and his clothes ragged and dirty. His wife was in the same state. Both in their early thirties, both would be attractive if they weren’t so dirty and disheveled. He’d given up. Missy could almost smell the defeat on him and it was a sour and rank odor.
His wife was even worse. She hadn’t said a word since she and the kids had arrived. Her eyes held the blank and haunted look of someone who couldn’t stop seeing and experiencing the trauma she’d been forced to endure.
Missy tried not to judge them. Gus Jeffries and his wife, Jen, had been in this storage room now for almost a week. Yet she found it hard. They hadn’t been abused, as far as she could tell or they’d… he’d… admit. They’d just given up hope. That irritated Missy for some reason. She wasn’t about to give up trying nor hoping… and she knew damned well that her husband wouldn’t.
Yet again, when she looked into Jen’s eyes, Missy wondered if things might not have been so easy for her. Maybe more had happened. Maybe Gus didn’t know… or maybe he didn’t want to admit it to himself.
“You’re not going to solve anything by pacing and annoying the shit out of the rest of us,” One of the other women said irritably.
She was one of a group of three sisters who’d evidently been waylaid on the Pan American Highway on a trip from The States. They’d been in an RV and had planned to drive from Michigan all the way to the tip of South America. The three women were all blonde, attractive and ranged between thirty-five and forty.
Missy wanted to lash out at the one who’d spoken, Julie was her name, yet she knew it’d be wrong. It wasn’t anyone in this room’s fault that she and her three kids were here.
“Leave my mom alone,” Declan piped up, standing near the four cots that he and his sister and mother shared. He stood with a scowl on his face and his arms folded across his chest, glaring at Julie.
“I’m not bothering your mom,” Julie replied haughtily. “She’s bothering us.”
“Yeah,” Said another of the sisters, “we’re not happy about being here, either you know.”
“At least you’re adults,” Shelby added. “How do you think we feel?”
“All right, all right,” Missy said, holding up her hands. She went and sat on the end of her cot, “let’s not start snapping at each other. We’re all in the same boat here.”
“Oh, really?” Julie asked in a tone that clearly indicated that her frustration had not diminished. “Why don’t you ask Jen about that?”
The three sisters, Missy only knew Julie’s name, had been there for three nights already. Longer than Missy, of course, yet they all seemed in good shape. Although from her statement, it sounded to Missy like Julie knew something. Or suspected what Missy suspected… that Jen had been raped outside of Gus’ sight.
Missy stood and stalked over to stand in front of Julie and leaned in, balancing on the balls of her feet. She felt her anger rising again. Anger at the situation and anger at how close Julie was to doing even more damage to the already frazzled Australian couple.
“Shut your mouth,” Missy commanded, her eyes blazing. “Don’t say another fuckin’ word.”
Julie glared back at the smaller woman but she didn’t say anything else or do anything to escalate the situation. It was partly because she knew Missy was right.
“So why are you four here?” The third sister, who’d hardly said more than three words since Missy and the kids had been brought in asked. “Are they holding you for ransom?”
Missy went and flopped back onto her cot, “I’m not sure. What about you ladies?”
Julie scoffed, “they took our motor home. I don’t know anything else yet. They t
ook our phones and we haven’t been allowed to contact anybody, so I don’t know what the hell they want.”
That wasn’t a good sign. While these three women might have family money… probably did if they could take several months to make a fifteen thousand mile round trip… it would pale in comparison to what they might fetch on the white slave market.
Missy glanced over at the Jeffries but knew better than to ask. She doubted the outcome for them would be any different. Although the fact that Gus was still here might indicate otherwise.
In the silence that fell, the three kids came over and huddled close to their mother. Aubrey started to cry quietly and Shelby looked like she was not far away from it. Missy’s heart went out to them. This was certainly not the way this camping trip was supposed to end.
When she looked into her son’s face, though, she saw something else. His eyes were chips of stone and his little mouth was set in a firm line. He looked… determined?
“When are we gonna break out of here?” Declan asked. His tone was surprisingly confident, as if it was only a matter of time and not a question of whether or not they would in fact try to make a break for it.
“I don’t know, baby,” Missy said. “Not sure how. The door is locked and the windows have bars on them. And even if we could get out… they took our phones.”
“I know how to get back to the campground,” Declan replied firmly. “its easy! The whole time we were driving, I was paying attention to stuff, like dad always says. Looking for landmarks and stuff.”
“Quit it, Dec!” Aubrey hissed. “You’re just gonna get us in worse trouble.”
Declan glared at his sister, “I’m not scared of these guys.”
“That’s cuz you don’t know anything about it,” Shelby chided, “you’re just a kid… you don’t know what they do to… to girls.”
Declan scowled and folded his arms across his chest, “I’m not just some little kid, Shell! I know they hurt that woman.”
He whispered this last and angled his head toward Jen Jeffries. Although he probably didn’t understand the full implications, Declan did at least understand that the bad army guys had done something to her. Something that made her act weird. Her black eye and puffy lip were pretty obvious indications of that. Even a ten-year-old could sense that something terrible had happened to her.
“If we’re good, they won’t hurt us…” Aubrey said with more hope than conviction.
Declan sighed, “These are bad guys. That’s why we need to get out of here. All we have to do is go out front and go left on that road. Then take a right a little while down. That road leads almost all the way back to the park! I remember the way.”
“It’s like thirty miles!” Shelby protested.
“So?” He rebutted. “Would you rather sit around here and wait for whatever they’re gonna do?”
“Okay, guys,” Missy said in a soothing tone. “Take it easy. Let’s not fight with each other.”
Declan sighed heavily, “Mom… I know I can do it. I’ll go by myself and get dad!”
The thought had already crossed her mind more than once. Of the three kids, Declan was the most outdoorsy. He loved the woods, hiking, fishing and camping as much as Clay did. He was a good student when it came to the survival skills Clay tried to teach them all.
The thought of her ten year-old little boy wandering through Nicaraguan and Costa Rican jungles at night wasn’t a very comforting one, though. There weren’t many big predators in Central America, but there were some. At least three or four varieties of big cats roamed throughout Latin America, the biggest being the Jaguar. Any one of these might make a try for a small lone human in the dark.
Could she let him try? Could she let him try and lead his two sisters to safety as well?
Part of her wanted to allow it. If the three kids were gone, then it didn’t matter what else happened. Her biggest fear at the moment was what these men might do to her girls. If they were out of the picture, then she only had to worry about herself, and that was nothing by comparison.
On the other hand, why not just bust out of the makeshift jail with everybody? If they could break out, then they could put all of them into the Deuce and a Half and drive it to safety. That would solve all their problems and not leave anybody behind to suffer the consequences of a jail break.
The only question was how they’d get out of this building. The storage room they were in was situated at the rear of the structure. The door led out into a hallway that led to the front door. In addition to the room they were in, the building had several offices as well as another storage room. How could she get past the guards and get nine people to safety before they were caught or shot?
As she saw it, there were only two options. The first was to dig out. The building had no floor. It sat on the bare ground, which was mostly earth. The dirt floor of the storage room was compact, but it would be possible to dig a hole along the outer steel wall and slide under it. Of course, this could take days and would be noticed.
The other option was the direct approach. Several times a day, a man would come through the door with a rolling cart that contained food and water. He was always accompanied by a guard with a rifle, though.
But if a distraction could be arranged, one or two of the prisoners could jump the armed guard. Then they’d have a weapon and a direct line to the outside. It might be possible to make a rush out the door and get to the truck.
It was risky, but maybe not any more risky than sitting here waiting to be beaten and raped… or sold into slavery.
“Okay,” Missy finally said, “we’re gonna get out of here, guys. But we have to be patient. To pick our time.”
Declan’s face lit up. The two girls frowned, but their eyes said they were hopeful, too.
Of course, there was the matter of the other prisoners. She had to feel them out. Missy stood and moved closer to the sisters and the Jeffries.
“Yall want to get out of here?” She asked, meeting their eyes in turn.
“What do you mean?” Gus asked. His wife only stared, but her eyes looked wide and fearful.
“I mean break out of this place and get to safety,” Missy said. “There’s a truck outside that’ll hold all of us.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” Julie asked derisively. “This is some kind of army and they’ve all got guns! What’re you gonna do, yank the bars off the window and run away? Get real!”
“We have three options,” Missy stated patiently, although it wasn’t easy. “We stay here and wait for these guys to do whatever it is they’re gonna do. Second, one of us gets free and heads south to find my husband. He’s a former Marine and he’s got a friend staying with us who’s a bad ass private eye. One way or another, they’re coming for us, I’m sure. But wouldn’t it be nice if it happened sooner rather than later?”
Missy cast a quick glance at Jen.
Julie scoffed, “Really? A bunch of women and kids and one beat up guy against what… fifty dudes with machine guns? Why don’t you just shut the hell up and stop causing trouble?”
“What’s your other option?” Gus asked quickly and hopefully.
“We all bust out of here, take that truck and haul ass back down to Costa Rica,” Missy said firmly. “A friend of ours is building a community not far from here, maybe less than thirty miles. We’d be safe there.”
“Oh come on!” Julie shouted, jumping to her feet and squaring off with Missy. The blonde was easily five inches taller and outweighed Missy by thirty pounds. “This isn’t some goddamned action movie! If we try anything they’ll shoot us or… or worse!”
“Sit down,” Missy ordered, her eyes blazing.
“Make me, bitch!” Julie said, leaning in close and sneering.
Missy grinned. She wasn’t a fighter by nature, but she was tough and she knew how to fight. She threw an obvious big wide right handed punch. Julie laughed and deflected it with her left hand. Of course, this is what Missy wanted.
With her left side and
middle exposed, it was easy for Missy to sidestep and send a short and hard rabbit punch straight into the other woman’s midriff. Julie’s eyes went wide and her breath exploded out of her in a whoosh of air. Her face turned beet red and she bent over double.
Missy then planted her left foot against the larger woman’s shoulder and shoved hard. Julie went stumbling backward and onto her cot where she slumped over on her side. The blonde was struggling to gulp air and wrapped her arms over her wounded belly.
Missy stood with her feet apart and her hands on her hips, “Anybody else?”
“Jesus, lady,” The middle sister griped, “you didn’t have to hit her!”
“We’re getting out of here,” Missy declared, finally coming to a decision, “so you’d all better get used to the idea.”
“Yeah!” Declan said, appearing at her side and getting into the same stance. “My dad and Uncle Scott wouldn’t just sit around and wait for the bad guys to do something!”
“Who the hell is your Uncle Scott?” The third sister asked. It seemed like a sneer but Missy thought she detected a slight hint of hopefulness in the woman’s tone.
“Scott Jarvis,” Declan said proudly. “He’s a private eye from Orlando. And he’s super tough. He and my dad could probably beat all these guys by themselves!”
The middle sister frowned and then her eyes went wide, “Hey, I know that name! Wasn’t he the guy that worked on Live like a Pop Star for a while? The one who found Jillian Moore when she got kidnapped last fall?”
“Yeah,” Declan said proudly, “plus a bunch of other stuff.”
“Geez…” The sister said thoughtfully. “Why don’t we just wait, then? Seems smarter, doesn’t it?”
Missy cast a glance over at Jen and then looked back at the middle sister and shook her head slightly, “What’s your name?”
“Tanya,” The middle sister said, “and my younger sister here is Ellen.”
“Okay, Tanya and Ellen,” Missy stated. “Sorry about Julie, but… she’ll be okay in a minute or two. I’m not sure how yet, but we’re getting out of here. Even if it’s only one of us.”