by Ron Smoak
“Great!” smiled Ben. “You go find the Finleys and be sure to call me every four hours.”
Tecal gave Ben a big grin and the foursome turned and trotted off into the jungle, Tyana leading.
“Good luck,” yelled Lee.
Suddenly, Ben felt there was some hope as he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweating brow. He looked at his sister. Some hope…
Four hours passed. Right on time Tecal radioed Ben. No contact. They were moving fast. Ben was following the GPS signal. He was amazed at the speed Tecal and his men were moving through the jungle. Finally some progress.
Lee was plotting Tecal’s progress when the eight-hour check-in call came in. Tecal still found no sign of the Finleys. According to the map, Ben saw that Tecal’s group had gone two days deep into the jungle as the Finleys would have trekked. He was worried now. Ben knew the Finleys were not coming back in. Tecal should have found them by now if they were. He decided to have Tecal move on for four more hours. By then it would be dark.
After four more hours it was dark at the base camp. Lee and Ben waited intently at the radio. Lee checked the GPS system and plotted Tecal’s position. They had gone much further than Ben had hoped. They were within thirty miles of the Finleys’ last reported location. This did not look good, thought Ben as he held his head in his hands. The crackling of the radio startled him. It was Tecal reporting in. Lee ran over to the table.
The news was not good. Still there was no sign of the Finleys. They were able to track the group far into the jungle. They found their campsites but did not find them. Ben thought about sending Tecal on a bit further but decided against it. They had to have been captured or worse.
“We need to call Tecal back in,” Lee said dejectedly.
Ben did not want to give up. But he also did not want to lose anyone else. He had his answer.
Ben grasped the microphone and keyed it. “Return to base camp as soon as possible, Tecal.” Ben could not believe he was saying that. He looked at Lee. Both had tears in their eyes. Both felt horrible. But it had to be done. Tecal acknowledged the message to return.
That left one thing to do, one thing that Ben dreaded. He had to call Dane again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Miami, Florida; 9:00 p.m.
Normally Dane would be out to dinner on a beautiful vibrant Saturday night in Miami Beach. But tonight he worried about his sister and her husband. He waited to hear from Ben Jamison in Brazil about Dana and Randall. He hoped he would get word tonight that they were safe. He was so certain he decided to stay home and watch a little TV when the phone rang.
Dane answered, “Hello.”
“Dane, Ben Jamison here. Can you hear me?” he asked.
“Sure. What’s the news, Ben?”
“It’s not so good, I’m afraid. I decided to send a few of my guys out this morning hoping to meet Randall and Dana as they were coming back.”
“Sounds like a good idea, Ben,” Dane said. “What did they find?” he said, closing his eyes and praying for the best.
“My guys tracked Randall three days back into the jungle. They found no trace of them at all, nothing,” explained Ben. “They found their campsites and their trail. They also found a lot of blood but no bodies. There was no other trace. No tracks in or out. Dane, I think they are prisoners of those guys dressed in black that they reported.”
Dane’s mind swirled. After what he found out about the death of Nathan’s father he was more worried than before. It seemed more and more plausible that Dana and Randall had stumbled across the Germans in the Amazon. That was not good. But he decided not to let Ben in on his theory, at least not yet.
“Damn,” said Dane after a few seconds of silent thought. “I had hoped it would not come to this but…” His voice trailed off. Now he was very worried. If someone had them, they were in great danger; especially Dana. He knew what men in the jungle would do to a woman and it was not pretty. He could not stand to think of what his sister may be going through.
“So Ben, where do we go from here?” asked Dane.
“Well, my next call will be to Princeton to report all of this and hopefully come up with some kind of plan.”
“Personally, I’m afraid that will take too long. Those guys will talk about it for months before acting. Dana and Randall will be dead by then if they aren’t already. We need to get back in there ourselves and find out what’s going on.”
Ben was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know, Dane. That’s very harsh jungle out there and those guys don’t sound like they’ll just roll over and give Dana and Randall back to you if you ask nicely. We need some big time help here. Military type help,” explained Ben.
“Yeah, Ben, I agree. We need military type help. And that’s just what I’m going to get.”
“What do you mean, Dane?” asked Ben. He was puzzled.
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Thanks, Ben. I’ll get down there soon. Meanwhile I need to make a few calls.”
“You coming down, you say?” asked Ben, thinking he didn’t hear Dane correctly.
“Yes. I will see you very soon. I have to run.” With that Dane hung up the phone.
Dane sat thinking for about twenty minutes, reflecting on his previous conversation with Ben. He was oblivious to all sounds around him. He was deep in thought. He had to go to Brazil. He had no plan. He contemplated the worst scenario; both Dana and Randall were dead. He rejected that thought. In his heart he knew they were alive. For a second, he thought the group was picked up by a band of men and were being cared for in the jungle. He immediately rejected that idea as well. The Finleys would have contacted someone if that were true. No; it had to be they were held against their will possibly by these men dressed in black, the Nazis. That was the only plausible answer.
He looked at his watch and dialed Ben’s number again. Ben picked up on the first ring.
“Ben, Dane here.”
“Yes, Dane,” Ben answered.
“Have you talked with Princeton yet?” Dane asked.
“Yeah, Dane, I did. I talked to Dr. Dukes at Princeton. You were right. He wanted to get the State Department involved. He is probably calling them as we speak.”
“Ben, did Dr. Dukes say anything about being contacted by anyone for ransom money or anything like that?” asked Dane.
“No, he didn’t. Has someone contacted you?” Ben asked excitedly.
“No. I wanted to make certain before I came down there,” explained Dane. Ben’s initial excitement dropped like a stone.
“So you are still coming?” asked Ben.
“Yes. It may be two of us. I won’t know until later but I will try to get down to Rio tomorrow and then make my way to you.”
“If you can get to Caceres, Brazil, I can arrange to get you here,” said Ben.
“Damn, exactly where are you?” asked Dane feeling a bit dumb.
“I am at the base camp in a very small village about 400 miles north, northwest of Caceres. The village is called Cotriguacu. It is in the state of Mato Grosso on the Rio Juruena. Take it from me; this is the middle of nowhere,” Ben said with a slight chuckle. “As my dad used to say, this is God’s country; holding one piece of land to another piece of land. Other than that, this place is worthless but beautiful.”
Dane smiled to himself on the other end of the line. At least he was talking to a man who had a sense of humor.
Ben continued, “When you get to Caceres go to the government office and ask for Bill Nelson. He will make your travel arrangements to get you here. Otherwise you could get lost.”
“Thanks, Ben. Bill Nelson. I’m writing that down now; at the government office in Caceres... If all goes well, we should be there by late tomorrow or the next day, depending on flight availability,” said Dane. “We will see you then. And thanks again for all you are doing.”
“Hey, no thanks needed. These are my friends as well. No, I should say family. We will get them back. I’m
certain of that,” Ben said confidently, although inwardly he was not as sure as he sounded.
“Right. We will. See you soon, Ben.”
“See you when you get here,” said Ben. They both hung up.
Within a minute the phone rang. “This is Dane.”
“Hey, Dane, Wayne here. I talked to Nathan about the specific location we talked about in the Amazon. The only thing he could remember was a place called Caceres. Does that ring a bell?”
Dane sat up straight. “Yes, Wayne, it does. It’s in the same general area where my sister and her husband disappeared. Did he say anything else?”
“No. That was all he could remember,” answered Wayne. “I hope that helps.”
“Yes, it does. It helps a lot. Thanks for getting back to me.”
“Not a problem, Dane. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” With that Wayne hung up.
Now Dane had a connection. He began adding to his notes.
Dane picked up his phone again. Dialing a number, he waited for an answer. After four rings there was an answer but there was also blaring music.
“Hey!”
“Hugo, this is Dane.”
“Yeah, Boss. What’s up?” answered Hugo as he tried to get to a place a bit quieter.
“I need a huge favor, buddy,” Dane started.
“Hold on a sec while I get to a quieter place.”
Hugo stepped outside of the Miami Beach club and into the warm humid night. “Okay, Dane,” he said. “I can hear you now. What’s up?”
Dane took a deep breath. “I need a huge favor, buddy. I’m headed for Brazil tomorrow…”
“Damn,” Hugo interrupted. “Not bad news about Dana…”
“No, it’s not that. But it looks like I’m going to have to go down there with Ben and try to find them.”
There was no hesitation on the line. “I’m going with you,” said Hugo. “And don’t even try to tell me no. I’m leaving right now. I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes. We can figure out a plan together and get this thing done right.”
Dane lowered his head into his left hand while holding the phone with his right. “Thanks, Hugo. You don’t know what this means to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Fortress Alpha; 9:15 p.m.
Randall heard the heavy footsteps outside his cell door. He struggled to get to his knees. The beating had left him with several broken ribs and a myriad of cuts about the face. He felt like a truck hit him. He tried to open his eyes to see what was happening when the cell door opened and two giant men walked in and grabbed him by his arms. They pulled him to a standing position and walked him out of his cell. The light was blinding. His mind raced as he tried to make some sense as to where he was and what was happening.
Randall had lain in his cell for three days after his brutal beating at the hands of the guards. Dried blood was smeared across his face and his eyes were nearly swollen shut. He could barely speak.
“What is happening?” he murmured to the guards. There was no answer. He was half led, half dragged down the hallways and up a flight of stairs until they came to a large steel door at the end of one hall. The guards opened the door and flung him into the room. Randall fell to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, my God!”
Randall looked up, turning his head toward the sound he recognized. He could see someone else but could not recognize who it was.
“Who,” he began to say, straining his eyes even more to make out the person crawling toward him.
“Oh, God, Randall,” came the voice again. Randall wiped his eyes. It sounded like Dana!
“Dana, is that you?” he asked, raising a hand toward the person nearest to him.
“Yes, Randall. Are you all right?” Dana asked, sobbing uncontrollably. She was so happy to see him. She smiled widely. She had resigned herself to the thought that Randall was dead.
“I’m alive. Just a bit rough,” Randall said, noticing he had lost at least two teeth. “Dana, are you all right? What have they done to you?”
Dana reached Randall and took him in her arms. “Oh, baby, I thought you were dead. I thought they killed you.”
“Not dead but not doing too great,” said Randall, wincing from the pain of the broken ribs.
“Oh, am I hurting you?” Dana said.
“I think I have a few broken ribs,” he said, trying mightily not to show Dana his true pain.
Randall sat up and took a look at Dana. He forced his eyes open and nearly puked. His beloved Dana was hardly recognizable. Her face was swollen with two large cuts, one over her right eye and the other one on her left cheek. Her nose was broken, bent off to one side. He could see that she had teeth missing and her lips were split open with two nasty gashes. She had clearly been beaten like him. But she still had her smile.
“Oh, God, baby, what have they done to you?” he cried. He reached out and pushed back her hair so he could see her face better. “They did this to you?”
“Yes, and you and Manolo too, I guess,” she said quietly. She looked over to the other side of the room where Manolo lay.
Randall looked over and saw Manolo for the first time. Manolo was sitting against the wall and was a bloody mess as well. His eyes were open but he said nothing. The first thing Randall saw was Manolo’s hideously broken arm. He turned away. Manolo’s arm was folded in half in front of him. The white jagged bone protruded from his upper arm about halfway down from his shoulder.
“Manolo,” Randall called. There was no answer. Randall called to him again; nothing but a blank stare and a moan in return. Randall turned to Dana. “Where are we? Do you know?”
“I have no idea,” she answered, wincing in pain.
“Your ribs…broken?” asked Randall.
“Yes, I’m certain of that; and my nose too. That’s what hurts the most,” Dana said, gingerly touching the crusty blood covering her nose. “I hope I look better than you do,” she said with a slight smile trying to lighten the mood a bit. She was so happy to see Randall alive.
Randall tried to break a smile but the pain in his face was too much. “Sweetheart, you gotta stop making jokes. They hurt too much.”
Randall leaned over toward Manolo. Even though he had a lot of pain throughout his body, he slowly crawled over beside him. Manolo’s eyes followed Randall. That was good, Randall thought.
“Manolo, can you hear me?” he asked. Manolo slowly opened his mouth and finally spoke.
“Yes.”
“I know you are in pain. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” The reply was curt and quick. It seemed that Manolo wanted to just lie there and not move.
“We will get out of here, Manolo. Believe me, we will,” said Randall quietly as he turned to crawl back over beside Dana.
“Randall, what the hell are we going to do?” she said, starting to sob.
“I don’t know, babe. But I do know someone out there misses us and will try to come help us. Do you have any idea how long we have been here?”
“At least three days, I think,” Dana answered, again wincing, “maybe more.” It was clearly painful for her to talk with the severe mouth and face injuries she had.
Randall’s ears picked up footsteps again. They were getting closer. They stopped outside of the cell door. He heard the key in the lock and the door opened wide. The glaring light from the hall outside caused Dana and Randall to both shade their eyes with their hands.
The two guards who had beat them previously walked into the cell and stood on both sides of the door. Jorgen Maas stepped into the room and stood over Randall and Dana.
Randall and Dana looked up at Maas. “Who are you?” Randall asked.
Maas kicked Dana in the side, knocking the wind out of her. “I do the talking. You understand?” Maas sneered.
Dana was gasping for air. Randall tried to help her but couldn’t. Every movement hurt. He looked at Maas. “You damn pig,” Randall sneered. “Let us out of here!
We haven’t done anything to you.”
Maas did not move. He glanced over to the two guards and nodded ever so slightly. The two guards jumped into action. Randall stiffened, ready to receive a kick or worse. His eyes widened as the guards did not grab him but grabbed Dana and held her up. One guard pinned her arms behind her back. She screamed in pain as they straightened her arms and pulled them straight back. As one guard held Dana’s arms back, the other guard pulled out a rope and tied Dana’s hands. He handed the other end to Maas, who attached the rope to a pulley hanging from the ceiling of the room. No one hesitated. They must have done this many times before to others. Their efficiency was amazing. Maas jerked on the rope pulling Dana’s arms and hands up high behind her back. She screamed with pain from her shoulders as her feet left the ground. Maas tied the rope onto a stanchion on the wall. He stepped over in front of her and slammed his fist into her stomach. The sound was horrible. She already was having trouble breathing from the initial kick but this blow struck her so hard the air came out of her with a hideous groan. Her body tried to double over but the guard behind her grabbed her blood-crusted hair and pulled her head back up while the other guard slammed home a second body blow that literally sent Dana swinging across the room. The guard holding her let her go and she slammed face first into the stone wall. There was a nasty crunch as her head met the wall. A guard steadied her and readied her for another blow.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” screamed Randall as he saw Dana hanging painfully by her arms, stretched high behind her back. She was thankfully unconscious and bleeding profusely from her mouth as she was slowly swinging. Randall was in tears. “Stop. She’s hurt. You are going to kill her!”
Maas stepped back and spoke with a booming voice. ”Any more words from you and I will kill her in front of you. I am the boss and you will do what I say or…”