The Colonel's Daughter: SAND Part 1

by Lili Tufel

  “Well, he got very sick. He broke into a cold sweat. Then he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel his legs. And since the hostages were not allowed to stop moving, the two DEA guys carried him through the Amazon jungle. And right before they reached a small village, their captors beat them and left my father to die right alongside a dirt road.”

  “Your dad’s been through a hell of a lot. He’s the bravest man I know.”

  Keeping her gaze on the horizon, she continued. “My father could hear the armed men laughing and calling out to him.”

  “What’d they say?”

  Her voice deepened, “Pray Gringo pray that somebody picks you up before you die Gringo.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been called Gringo before. I hate it.”

  “My dad always told me that he never prayed so hard in his life…up until he passed out. And when he opened his eyes, all he could remember was the image of a radiant woman and the smell of lilacs that filled the small room.”

  “Now that you mention it, I remember your father asking us in the small cave if we smelled lilacs. I thought he was joking.”

  “I heard my father say many times that the beautiful lady saved his life.”

  “Who’s the lady?” He rested his right arm along the top of the seat while steering with his left hand.

  “It’s an image of the Virgin Mary called Our Lady of Guadalupe. It hung on the concrete wall of the cottage where the villagers took him in. They lay him on a cot for a month while he recuperated and his cot faced the large framed picture.”

  “I know who she is. She’s from Mexico.”

  “Yeah,” she smiled, “I went to Mexico with my father to visit the Basilica of Guadalupe. It was an emotional trip for us after having him back home safe. He always said that surviving the jungles of Colombia was a miracle.”

  “I would have never pegged the old Colonel for a man of faith.”

  Abby began a new sketch, adding stars as the backdrop.

  “There’s a Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe in my home town,” Dallas paused. “The Cathedral is in the Dallas Arts District.” He ran his hand over his crew cut then down his face. “I haven’t seen Texas in over a year.”

  “My dad and I lived in Texas.” Having lived with her father for a greater part of her life, Abby told him about the time she spent in Texas when her father had been assigned to Army Headquarters in Fort Sam Houston. “My parents have been separated for years. I lived with my dad until he went on tour. Then I moved back in with my mom. It worked out though since I started attending University of Miami.”

  “Let’s not talk about the U. Being in there was like being in a foreign land, actually, more like enemy territory.”

  She laughed. “Well at least you’re not wearing that silly hat today.”

  “Are you talking about my Longhorn cap?” Joking, he opened his mouth as if appalled. “Oh that’s it. It’s getting put on right now.” He tugged at the steering wheel threatening to pull over. “I’ve got a Longhorn cap and a shirt in the back of this truck.”

  “You are not pulling over for that, no.” She joked.

  He pulled the truck off the highway, leaned over the seat to the extended cab in the back and grabbed his rucksack. He quickly removed his shirt and before replacing it, Abby caught sight of his muscular upper body but also the scars that covered his back.

  “What did they do to you, Dallas?” She brought her hand close to him without touching.

  “Oh, that’s nothing, just a scratch.” He slipped on the orange Texas Longhorn t-shirt and threw the rucksack in the backseat.

  “That…was more than just a scratch.”

  He fidgeted with his cap before putting it on. “You’re right it was more than just a scratch. They tied me to a post and whipped the shit out me.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “I’m not sure what instruments they used but it felt like daggers on my back.”

  Abby stared in silence.

  “All that just to get us to talk, to say something, anything,” his breathing got heavy.

  “That’s horrible, I’m sorry you had to go through that. Do you think my dad’s going through it right now?”

  “No, of course not, don’t think that way, Abby. They got what they needed to know already. Anyway, they’ve learned that there’s nothing they can do to get the Colonel to talk. Don’t stress yourself out about your dad. He’ll be alright.”

  “I can’t help it.” She grabbed his hand.

  He stared into her brown eyes for a moment before he kissed her and his tongue moved about in gentle rhythmic movements. Realizing that he was quickly losing sight of his objective, he pulled away, fighting his desire to feel her round breasts. His mind pictured her soft tongue touching his body and he was jolted, straightening up on his seat and placing both hands on the steering wheel.

  Abby stared at his blue eyes and licked her lips. Noticing that he had to adjust his pants, she realized how uncomfortable he really was. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He raised an eyebrow.

  She cleared her throat staring at his pants.

  “I’m the one that should be apologizing, not you.”

  “You don’t need to apologize to me for anything.” She put a knee on her seat and leaned into him, kissing his face. As she was about to straddle him, he gently pushed her away.

  “No, no, no, no. You’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” He took a deep breath, pressing his thumb and index finger against his forehead, “Wow, this is difficult.”

  “I blame the Longhorn shirt.” She joked. “Once you put it on, I just found you simply irresistible.”

  “Oh really, then I wonder what’ll happen if I put this on?” He put the Longhorn cap on and winked.

  “Ooh yeah, now that is sexy.” She laughed.

  He turned the truck back onto the highway. “Abby, I think it’s better if we don’t talk for a little bit. I need time to think.”

  “Ok.” She grabbed the notebook from the floor and turned the radio up.

  * * * * *

  Dallas pulled into the US Army Hospital in Tampa and picked up his cell phone.

  “Yo Javi…I’m at the Southside entrance.” He paused. “Yes, I’m driving my pickup truck. I’m used to handling pickup trucks. This is a muscle truck. It can ride just as fast.”

  Abby gave him a puzzled look while she listened.

  “Quit arguing, then.” He shook his head. “Well, you can drive whatever you wanna drive when it’s your turn to choose. I know…I know…you would never choose a pickup truck. They ain’t just good to help people move…well I’ll tell you this, don’t ever ask me to help you move, ‘cuz when people gotta move, the owner of a pickup truck is all of a sudden their best friend.” Dallas hung up and looked at Abby.

  She lifted an eyebrow, “Are you guys always like this?”

  Javi checked the corridor before sneaking towards the elevator. He caught sight of Samantha sitting at her mother’s desk. He gave her a wink and a wave as he limped inside the elevator.

  Dallas laughed hysterically at the sight of Javi exiting the building. Abby giggled. With his cell phone camera pointing to Javi he said, “I gotta take a picture of that outfit you got on. Is that a teddy bear with balloons? Aha…It’s a boy!” Dallas teased.

  Javi puckered his brow, “Get me to a store and a change of clothes ASAP!” He boarded the extended cab of the truck.

  * * * * *

  Dorothea’s big eyes appeared over the counter of the nurses’ station as she watched the approaching swagger of finely pressed jeans. Maurice Shahrivar had been sent to Tampa with explicit instructions from his father to kill Captain Santos.

  “I’m looking for an old friend.” He said in a charming voice. “His name is Javier Santos.”

  “Well, how about that. The Captain has civilian friends.” She batted her eyes and pointed to Javi’s room. “He’s in that room right over there.”

  Maurice entered the room to find an empty hospital bed. He drove his fi
st into the door. After regaining composure, he strutted back down the hall. As he came near the elevator, he paused to watch a little girl with golden curls sitting at a desk adjacent to the nurses’ station. She tossed her baseball high above her head right into Maurice’s hand. He rubbed the ball with his bare fingers noticing a handwritten signature.

  “You know Captain Javier Santos?” Maurice asked the little girl.

  “You mean Javi?” Samantha replied.

  “Ah yes, my good friend Javi.” He feigned a smile and gave back the baseball.

  “He’s my mom’s boyfriend.” She declared.

  Maurice lowered his body placing a hand on each knee and looked into Samantha’s eyes. “Will you help me find him? He seemed to have stepped out of his room.”

  “I’m not allowed to go downstairs.”

  “So you think he’s downstairs?”

  “I think so. But I’m not allowed to go down there.”

  “I’m sure you’re not supposed to but how many times do you do what you’re not supposed to do? I bet you shouldn’t be tossing that ball around indoors.” He gave her a wink. “So who’s your mommy?”

  “Jasmine Johnston.”

  “Ah! I met your mommy downstairs. I saw her nametag. She has a pretty name.” Maurice remembered Jasmine and how apprehensive she had been during his brief encounter with her downstairs and he realized that her reluctance only meant she had a great deal to hide. “Can you tell me if you saw my friend Javi with anyone else?”

  “You ask a lot of questions. Are you sure, you’re his friend? You don’t seem to know that much about him.”

  He stood up and looked around, “I think I will take the stairs, will you show me where they are?”

  Samantha placed her baseball inside her glove gripping it tightly as she walked towards the stairwell. She stopped and pointed, “Its right over there.”

  “Where,” Maurice tried to lure her, “Which door is it?”

  She stepped closer. He jiggled the handle pretending not to know how. She stepped close enough to show him. He thrust the door open, swooped the child into his arms with a hand tightly across her mouth. He hurried down the stairs through the south exit to his sports car strategically parked by the curb.

  * * * * *

  “Dorothea, have you seen Samantha?” Jasmine asked anxiously leaning over the nurses’ station.

  “Sure, she was sitting right there at your desk.” She pointed holding a chart in her hand. “Did you know Captain Santos actually had a civilian friend visiting him? He was handsome, tall, tanned skin…mmm…mmm. That man was hot.”

  “Dorothea,” Jasmine smirked. Then she thought a civilian? “I hope it wasn’t that guy I met downstairs. He was so creepy.”

  “Creepy? I was too busy looking at them jeans…mmm.” Dorothea said.

  “Dorothea, Captain Santos left.”

  “I knew that boy was up to no good the minute he asked me for those clothes.”

  “Listen, I can’t find Samantha anywhere. Please page me as soon as you see her.”

  “Of course sugar.”

  Jasmine dashed for the elevator hurrying to the security room. An old man named Henry sat in front of a dozen small black and white screens. He rewound the recorded video until they spotted Samantha and then froze an image in horror. A tanned skin, tall, medium built man with jet-black hair was holding Samantha in his arms as he exited the southern stairwell.

  While the old man called the police, Jasmine’s hands shook as she opened a folded piece of paper with Dallas’s phone number. Barely able to utter a sound, she asked to speak to Javi. “Javi,” her voice quivered. “He took Samantha. He took my little girl. He took my baby. He came asking for you and he took my baby!”

  “Don’t panic. We’re turning around right now. I’ll be there as soon as possible. I need you to stay calm. I will find that son-a-bitch and get Samantha back. I promise!” Javi immediately dialed a new number.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Rinehart. How are you doing sir?” Javi held the phone to his ear listening intently. “Yes, I made it out of Helmand alive, sir. I’m calling about the surveillance system you were implementing. No sir I haven’t forgotten that meeting we had regarding CIGS (covert intelligence surveillance gathering system.) I need to find an individual as soon as possible. Yes sir, I’m calling in a favor. I appreciate that very much. I’m handing over the phone to Lt. Brian Star sir. He will give you the specs. Thank you again, sir.”

  * * * * *

  Dallas and Abby stayed in the Truck while Javi limped across the hospital parking lot wearing black low top sneakers and right above his ankle was the cylinder cast tucked beneath a pair of jeans.

  Jasmine swung her arms around Javi in panic-stricken tears. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, buried his face in her neck and whispered, “I’ll get her back, I promise.”

  Javi and Jasmine looked up at the sounds of a helicopter propeller. They watched a military bird land on the helipad outside the parking lot. Dallas trotted over to greet General Brian Brown as Javi approached with a limp.

  Jasmine stood next to Abby near the truck. Upon seeing her shiver in fear, Abby put her arm around Jasmine. “They’ll find her. I know they will. They’re the best at what they do. And look the local police are getting here.”

  “That man who took my daughter is no match for local cops. He’s a terrorist isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know.” Abby sighed.

  “What would he want with an innocent little girl?” She sobbed in Abby’s arms while Abby studied the soldiers.

  “General,” Javi saluted.

  “You two know we’ve been looking for Afshin Shahrivar for some time now and here you boys have the opportunity to bring us his son Maurice. I couldn’t let you do that without a little help.” General Brown spoke over the propeller noise.

  Javi boarded the helicopter with the General and waited for Dallas as he rushed back to the truck.

  “Ma’am,” Dallas greeted Jasmine, “We’re gonna get your daughter back. Javi got the General of the United States Army on the case. They’re supplying us with anything we may need. Javi wants you to stay inside this hospital and don’t go anywhere until you hear from us. They’re putting this place on lock down. And if I may ask you a favor to please take care of Abby here.”

  “Hey, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Abby retorted.

  Dallas drew in air, his nostrils flared, “Abby, I need you to stay with her and don’t leave her sight.”

  “I’m not going anywhere…and…you don’t need to yell, I’m right here.” Abby snapped.

  Dallas clenched his teeth, “I didn’t yell…” he hesitated. “I’m sorry.” He paused to look into her brown eyes. “I’m trying to protect you, Abby.”

  She stared back into his deep blue eyes.

  Jasmine stood near the bed of the truck facing the helipad. Her nose was bloodshot. Gusts of wind streamed through her blond hair sticking to her face. Her swollen eyes welled up with tears. She could see Javi deliberating with the General inside the helicopter.

  * * * * *

  Inside the bird, the General pointed to a map. “He’s heading down Alligator Alley. We’re placing a roadblock way ahead of him here and here and we’re letting you two off over here. There’ll be a car waiting for you. You can intercept at this point. Here’s a radio. Both of you will be able to get in touch with me directly.”

  Exiting the helicopter, Javi and Dallas were met by a group of soldiers forming a military roadblock across Alligator Alley.

  “I’m driving this bad boy,” Javi said opening the sleek silver door of their new ride, “This ain’t no pickup truck.”

  Javi rested his left leg, placed his right foot on the accelerator, and revved the engine. A soldier approached the driver window. “Sir, we just received notice that the subject is alone. We can catch him here.”

  “If he proves to be as suicidal as I think he is then he’ll push right through the roadblock. Either way w
e’ll be ready.” Javi said.

  Maurice had no intention of slowing down. He maneuvered his speeding car around the armed soldiers who were not allowed to shoot unless given the order. Before reaching the deployed spike strip, which would have punctured his tires, he intentionally over steered causing a loss of traction in the rear wheels. His car went drifting through the median onto the opposite side of the road, which had been evacuated via a detour.

  Javi accelerated pulling alongside the fleeing vehicle. Dallas got a closer look confirming there were no passengers. Javi steered sharply into Maurice’s car using a PIT maneuver (Precision Immobilization Technique). With rhinoceros persistence, Javi sent Maurice’s car fishtailing and while keeping his own vehicle steady he passed Maurice’s car. With marksman precision, Dallas shot a tire, which caused Maurice to lose complete control. His body thrust forward, smashing the rearview mirror into the windshield, with such force, it caused the windshield to crack. Blood streamed down Maurice’s face as he stumbled out of the car. Javi and Dallas quickly exited their vehicle with their target in sight.

  “Where is she?” Javi pointed his gun at Maurice’s face. “What did you do with my little girl?”

  “You can’t shoot me in front of your men. Your military friends want me alive. They are not investing all this quality equipment for a little girl. They capture me, and you will never see her again.” Maurice elevated his face to prevent the blood from dripping into his eyes.

  Enraged, Javi wielded his gun as if it were a club striking behind his collarbone. He hit Maurice’s brachial plexus clavicle pressure point and knocked him to the ground. In a grapple move, Maurice gripped Javi’s sleeve, pushed his foot into Javi’s hip and hooked his leg behind his knee taking advantage of Javi’s existing wounds. Javi gave a painful roar and in a surge of adrenaline, he gripped Maurice’s arm firmly placing him in a submission hold.