The threesome had left Houston two hours earlier in the Bustamantes’ hefty extended-cab truck, accompanied by their two-man security team of Stan Knight and Willie Townsend who followed closely behind in a red SUV. Baker and Elena Rafferty had stayed home to guard the Muskets and their real property and vehicles against sabotage.
New Year’s Day, the morning traffic on Interstate 10 was light because Texans had partied the night before, and many who had risen early were glued to TV parades and football. José pulled off the interstate near Wrong Way, Texas, a small town forty miles east of San Antonio. “We’ll stop here at Cal’s for gas like we always do.”
He turned into the truck stop and headed for the gas pumps. From Cal’s, it was fifteen minutes to any municipality with a population exceeding three hundred. Law enforcement was limited to Highway Patrol and one Sheriff’s deputy, but the deputy’s office was inside the store.
Six-year-old Knoxi enjoyed Cal’s because they sold trinkets and specialty items such as purses, wristbands, and necklaces. “I need to do some shopping,” she would always say.
The Bustamantes loved spending money on Knoxi because they had no children. She once had talked them into buying her a twelve-foot leather bullwhip hand-made by native Texas Comanches. Never mind that the manufacturer’s tag said New Jersey.
Despite the Muskets’ pleading with the Bustamantes not to spend money on Knoxi, José and Mia couldn’t resist spoiling her. Knoxi could always look for the best deals by checking the latest hand-painted signs in the windows. She read at an eighth-grade level and spoke perfect Spanish — compliments of Mia. The rule was, English spoken until they reached the ranch, and then Spanish.
Stan and Willie pulled in behind them in their red SUV. José began filling the tank. Mia went to the ladies’ room. Knoxi stayed in the truck, out of sight, doors locked, until Stan and Willie stood next to her door — standard procedure.
But before Stan and Willie could get out of their vehicle, a large burgundy van screeched onto the lot and stopped alongside them. A second van, identical to the first, pulled up nose to nose with the Bustamante’s pickup. Six men exited from the two vehicles, wearing hoods and carrying guns.
Knoxi knew she was in trouble. She didn’t have a cell phone but knew that Stan and Willie had already dialed 911. Her daddy had coached her just in case — don’t panic, don’t resist, notice every detail. She heard gunshots, ducked into the floor, and heard José yell for help. Despite the lock, her door flew open. An armed man grabbed her by the collar of her red and white dress and pulled her through the door.
José had initially frozen, but had then attempted to prevent the attacker from pulling Knoxi from the back seat of his truck. The individual turned and pistol-whipped José across the forehead. Knoxi then saw red flashes that seemed to invade her eyes from every direction. A second later, she came to her senses and realized she had jabbed a pencil into the neck of the pistol-whipper while he had been occupied with José. So much for not resisting.
Stan and Willie had immediately recognized the odds — six against two. They had punched 911 and dropped their phones into the floor of their car so that police could track them. After they had drawn their weapons and prepared to defend Knoxi with their lives, they raced toward the back seat of José’s car to protect her, but the crew of van number one intercepted them.
A gun battle had ensued with both agents falling. One of the gunmen was hit.
The perpetrator with the pencil wound had slumped to his knees and then recovered. He turned and drew back his gun hand as if to strike the six-year-old. She raised her hands to protect herself but was immediately seized by another hooded individual who carried her away — screaming and kicking — and deposited her into van number two.
Mia came running out through the front door. “José! José! Donde estas? Donde esta Knoxi? Que paso?” Then she spotted him on the ground, his head bleeding. “Help! Help! My husband is hurt! José! Donde esta Knoxi? Donde esta Knoxi?”
José tried to raise himself. “Ella se ha ido. El la tomo. She’s gone. They took her. El la tomo. La siento, mi esposa. La siento.”
The vehicles were found abandoned. Knoxi Musket was gone.
* * *
Synopsis: Part II
Cody assembles a team of commandos for a clandestine attempt to rescue Knoxi from a rogue regime in South America. He is unable to prevent the headstrong Brandi from going on the mission, but her presence becomes vital as she once again proves her mettle.
Things heat up when they encounter additional abducted children being held for auction. The Muskets’ team of only fourteen avengers must rescue and lead a child brigade on a twenty-seven-mile exodus through the rainforest with an army of assassins in pursuit. Miracles (inspired by real events) leave hardened commandos scratching their heads, and the mission turns on a desperate prayer from a most unlikely source.
If you liked Knoxi in Part I, you will love her in Part II, where she inspires an entire South American nation to rise up and take back their country. Jungle Dawg shows up just when all appears lost, and Lilly, the timid intern from Pittsburgh, becomes a thorn in the side of a mass murderer.
Finally, learn Cody’s fate, as he lies in Methodist Hospital lingering between life and death after having been shot by police in a case of mistaken identity. The conclusion, inspired by still more real events, takes a bizarre twist when Cody Jr. steps up and rocks the world.
Real Events That Inspired No Pit So Deep, Part I
The miracle healing of Cody’s left leg at Kandahar, which resulted in the conversion to Christ of the orthopedic surgeon, was inspired by the verified experience of Dale Black, the lone survivor of an aircraft crash, as told in his biography Flight to Heaven (Published 2010 by Bethany House Publishers)
Cody’s encounter with the Taliban and the child traffickers in Afghanistan was similar to several real incidents, though the story was not based on a specific case file.
The symptoms of PTSD as experienced by characters in this novel are realistic and typical, as discussed in widely-circulated publications, congressional hearings and case files available to the public.
The story of hate killing at the AME church in Pennsylvania, and the subsequent forgiveness, was inspired by recent events in American history.
The title No Pit So Deep was inspired by the life of Corrie ten Boom, a Dutch Christian whose family hid Jewish citizens during the Nazi occupation of their homeland. She is best known for her quote, “There is no pit so deep that He is not deeper still” — a truth she learned while in a Nazi concentration camp. The most widely-read of her 46 books is The Hiding Place (Published 1971 by Bantam Books)
Leonard Beeker’s dreadful tale about the killing of children near the Laotian border originated from a real event as told to this author by a former soldier who was involved. The location, circumstances, and names were changed to maintain privacy.
Child human trafficking is symptomatic of our modern culture. An Antioch University study indicates that 300,000 children are used on front lines in battle zones today. Also see Growing Up Naked: The Untold Story of Children at War, by McAnthony Keah.
For more information about real events that contributed to this historical fiction novel, you may email author James N. Miller — [email protected] — or message on Facebook — www.facebook.com/NoPitSoDeep
None of the characters in No Pit So Deep represents any individual living or dead.
Do you have a hunger to know a God who really sees, really hears and loves you?
Jesus, I want to know you. I believe you laid down your life to pay the penalty I owe for my sin. I am willing to lay down my life in exchange for the wonderful destiny you have planned for me. I believe you rose from the dead to demonstrate that you have the power to forgive sin, and that you can work miracles in our lives. Forgive me, and send your Holy Spirit to live in me to change me forever.
ory
No Pit So Deep: The Cody Musket Story Page 27