by Wesley Stein
Tua had stayed behind and spent his formative years sharpening his mind and body. After serving in the French Armed Forces, Tua had returned home to the island and found work on a boat.
He’d grown into a fine man, honest and kind. He spent most of his hours helping his mother investigate Benson Sanderson, much to the disappointment of the single ladies on the island. He too loved the sisters, as he would have his own, and he wanted answers and justice for them.
Tua’s ties in the freight community helped him and his mother uncover any suspicious activities going on around the archipelago. They would pull on a thread until it stopped unraveling, then they’d pull on another one.
Consular Agent Robbins had been an enormous help in the beginning, but he eventually retired and had been replaced by an arrogant diplomat from Texas, who seemed more concerned with soaking up the South Pacific sun than finding answers for the girls.
Luckily for Tuahine, Robbins didn’t move away after retiring. He finally bought his boat and, after his wife left him, lived aboard it full time.
Tua was close to bursting open an illegal shipping cartel, one funded and organized by Benson Sanderson, who had been sitting in a California State Prison for the last twelve years.
Tua had put the word out, he was looking to get hired onto one of the pirate boats. He wanted first-hand knowledge of what they were stealing and where they were taking it. He knew if he tracked the stolen cargo, it would lead to Mark and Rachel Berklee.
After a few weeks of searching, Tua finally found a man who was willing to speak to him. They met at a bar in the center of the tourist strip.
“They don’t hire outsiders onto their crew,” the man told Tua. “Only the islanders get aboard the Mavenesse II.”
“How does it work then?” Tua asked.
“We come from West to East in the Pac Panamax,” the man explained. “Mavenesse II comes from the north. We meet, transfer a few containers, and then part ways.”
“How do I get work on the Pac Panamax then?” Tua asked. The man finished his beer and placed the empty mug on top of a damp coaster.
“Let me make some calls.”
“Benson Sanderson is in Tahiti,” Free said casually. He was trying to play it cool.
His boss, Special Agent in Charge John Watts, was still on the fence about the whole operation. Free cautiously laid out his case.
“Tybalt, as he’s calling himself now, is running an enormous shipping cartel in the South Pacific.”
“But you still don’t have the fence,” Watts replied. “Show me who’s buying these shipping containers from him.”
“That’s the whole thing John,” Free continued. “He’s not selling them. He’s using them.”
“Using them? Using what, the merchandise?”
“Exactly,” Free answered. “Look at the manifests.” He leaned over his boss’s desk and pointed at the spreadsheet printout between them. “Look at the things he’s stealing. First it was solar-power equipment, then water collection systems. Now they’re stealing guns and ammo.”
“So, what do you want?”
“I want to go down there, alone,” Free said. “Off the books. I want to do it quietly so they don’t get wind of us. I’ve got more friends down there besides Tuahine, and they’re willing to help. If we send a bunch of agents, everyone will be talking, and we’ll lose Sanderson.”
“I get your point, Free,” Watts replied. He leaned back in his oversized executive chair and thought for a moment. Finally, he sat forward, smiled, and asked, “Who are these friends of yours?”
Over 4,000 miles away, former Consular Agent Robbins was busy doing nothing. Retirement was treating the former diplomat well, as he spent most of his days aboard his small yacht. He’d saved enough over the years to purchase the boat of his dreams. Since his wife had finally escaped the marriage to take refuge with the kite-surfing instructor, the sea had become his new mistress.
As he sat outside his boat, now docked at his marina, Robbins’ phone buzzed and he checked the number. It was an old friend from the States.
“Agent Free, what a nice surprise,” he answered.
“How are you, Robbins?”
“Living the dream.”
The former Consular Agent looked around at his surroundings with a smile. The only sound was the ocean waves lapping at the edge of his boat.
“What about you?”
“I have some interesting news.” Free said.
“What’s that?”
“I’m coming to visit.”
“Finally!”
“But I’m coming on business,” Free clarified. “I’m close to bringing down Benson Sanderson.”
Agent Robbins paused. He felt a flurry of emotions, the past suddenly jarred loose from its place. The timing of Free’s call also seemed odd.
“That’s interesting Agent Free,” Robbins said. “Because I just got off the phone with Tuahine.”
Now it was Agent Free’s emotions that went wild. He liked Tuahine, and couldn’t wait to see her again, especially in her native country.
“Is that right?”
“She said you two have been in touch,” Robbins replied.
“We have. She’s been an enormous help.”
“She and Tua have a whole plan in motion. Do you know about this?”
“I know some of it,” Free answered. “The girls are going down there soon.”
“That’s right,” Robbins said. “And when they arrive, Tuahine and Tua plan to have answers for them.”
“How? They don’t have the map.”
“Don’t need one,” Robbins replied. “Tua is trying to get hired on by the mercenaries. He’s gone undercover as a pirate.”
“But I thought they don’t allow outsiders.”
“There are two ships,” Robbins said. “No one is allowed onto the island.”
“Except your friend,” Free said. “I bet they’d allow Romeo back.”
“That’s probably true,” Robbins replied. “Too bad he’s catatonic.”
“Maybe someday he’ll come around.”
“I hope so,” Robbins said. “I kidnapped him on the hope that he would.”
“I doubt anyone minded,” Free said. “The catatonic man you kidnapped, for one.”
“I thought he could lead us to the island,” Robbins said.
“And he might still,” Free offered.
“He can’t talk,” Robbins said. “Even if he wanted to help-”
“I appreciate your situation, Robbins,” Free interrupted. “But you did the right thing back then. That man is glad to be in the islands with you, trust me.”
“Thank you Agent Free.”
“I look forward to meeting you face to face, Agent Robbins,” Free said. “I’ve waited a long time for this trip.”
“Me too. Now get your ass down here.”
Free laughed as he ended the call.
Robbins smiled and went to replace the phone to its charging cradle. As he did he spotted the man he’d kidnapped, his mute friend.
Andy ‘Romeo’ Stahl was sitting in his usual chair on the deck of Robbins’ yacht.
“That was my friend with the FBI,” Robbins told him. “He’s finally coming down. We’re going to make our run on the island.”
Romeo didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. But he blinked his eyes and a tear fell. Robbins didn’t notice it right away but when he did, it marked the first time he’d seen that kind of emotion in his friend since first meeting him almost fifteen years earlier.

The cave was a strange place, with sights, smells, and sounds none of us had experienced before. Tybalt hadn’t returned, and it had been hours.
Together, we explored every inch of the cavern, circling the enormous fountain several times in search of a secret passage or other exits. There was none.
The deep ravine which circled the room left little space beyond it on which to stand. Jacey tried to climb from there but the cavern was shaped lik
e an onion bulb, and the top was a dark void.
There was a large wooden box behind the fountain and next to it a stone kiln. We searched the box, more of a cabinet really, and found a variety of strange objects. There were bowls and utensils, bags of flour and yeast. It was some kind of food preparation area. It struck us as odd and out of place.
We went to the opening, the tunnel which led up to the wooden platform in the adjoining chamber. Our parents stood there still, motionless next to the entrance.
“Maybe we can push past them,” Joanna said. “There’s three of us and only two of them.” We agreed.
We huddled together and went over the plan. When we were all on the same page, Joanna counted to three and we stormed the entrance.
Mark, or Claudius, lowered his shoulder and put Joanna on her back right away. At the same time, Rachel, or Gertrude, had wrapped an arm around Jacey’s head and spun her to the ground.
My Father grabbed me then, wrapping his arms around my arms in a bear hug, and he squeezed. I felt the blood drain from my head, my feet began to tingle.
He finally dropped me and I crawled backward, retreating to the bridge. My sisters were near me, both of them on the ground. They seemed okay but looked worried.
“That didn’t work,” Joanna said with a smirk. “Mark and Rachel kicked our asses.”
I sat up and rubbed my head.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“No idea,” Joanna answered. “I guess we wait.”
“For what?” I asked.
Jacey stood up and turned away. We heard her whisper something.
“What?” I asked.
“They’re waiting for us to drink,” she said softly. “They’ll keep us in here until we do.”
“But we won’t,” I said. “This water is a drug. Once we drink it, we’ll be stuck here. We can’t drink.”
“What choice do we have?” Jacey asked.
“Calm down,” Joanna warned. “We’re not discussing this.”
Jacey scoffed and walked away, crossing us to go back to the wooden box. She inspected it again, maybe as a way to occupy herself.
We called out to Tybalt, through the passage. We pleaded with our parents to let us out, we shouted for Juliet to return and speak to us. But no one came, no one cared.
The day passed, and we had nothing to eat but yeast and flour from the cabinet, nothing to drink. Our throats were dry and itchy.
The juice we had consumed earlier that morning was sugary, and we had eaten salted pork and cornbread too. We recalled that we’d never been given any freshwater. The last time we drank freshwater was before we’d been abducted.
Given the heat in the cavern and our already brined mouths, we figured we could last forty-eight hours, tops. If we didn’t drink, we’d be dead in two days.
At the entrance to the cavern, where our parents stood near the end of the passage, we watched the sun go down.
We could see a hint of light reflecting from the stalactites which hung in the room with the wooden platform, at the tunnel’s end. We stood on our toes and observed as the faint hue was wiped from the roof of the cave, and the only force holding the darkness above at bay was now the industrial light bulb from the Crossing-Cavern two chambers over. That’s when Rachel left.
We were surprised to see her go.
The animated shell of our mother suddenly walked up the tunnel and exited through the platform. Our father stepped to his side and blocked the passage behind her.
A couple of hours later, Gertrude returned and relieved Mark. This time, he exited through the passage.
We huddled in a corner.
“One of us should make a run for it,” Joanna said. “She can’t stop all three of us. Jacey, you’re the fastest.”
“Where will I go?” Jacey asked. “Even if I make it out of the catacombs, we’re trapped on a deserted island.”
I could see a realization was dawning on my sister, even as the words were coming out of her mouth. I tried to head off the downward spiral of negativity.
“We’ll find a way off the island,” I said. “We just need to stay alive long enough for someone to find us.”
“They won’t find us,” Jacey declared. “This island is impossible!”
“We can hijack one of those ships.”
“No we can’t!”
“Jacey, please,” I said. Joanna backed me up. She came and put a hand on Jacey’s shoulder.
“We need to try, Jace.”
Eventually we talked her into it, and the plan was easy enough.
Joanna and I ran at Gertrude with Jacey behind us. When the white-robed woman engaged us, Jacey slipped around her and sprinted up the tunnel.
I saw her climb out onto the wooden platform, just as Gertrude was kicking my leg. I felt a tendon tear, and a searing pain shot up to my thigh.
I fell to the ground and saw Joanna lying there, bleeding from the mouth. We looked up to see Gertrude walking up the tunnel after our sister. Joanna got to her feet and followed after her.
I wasn’t sure what to do, or if my leg could bear weight. I rolled to my side and tried to get to my feet.
I stood up in time to see Joanna come limping back down the passage. Behind her came Gertrude and Jacey, who was screaming, being dragged along by her hair.
Gertrude tossed Jacey into the cavern behind Joanna. Then she resumed her post at the end of the tunnel.
We retreated to the other side of the ravine, near the fountain. The air was cooler there anyway, and wetter.
Jacey told us she’d only made it into the first passage when a villager had spotted her and forced her back.
“There’s a guard in each chamber,” she said. Her eyes were filled with tears, and all of them came pouring out. “We’re never going to make it out of here.”
Joanna ducked her head. I was beginning to lose hope too.
Mark and Rachel took shifts through the night, protecting the exit and waiting for us to drink. We tried to sleep and did for short spells at a time, each of us in a separate area. It was too hot to stay close together.
The night hours crawled by slowly. It wasn’t until we noticed both Claudius and Gertrude standing at the entrance together, that we realized it was morning. We peeked past our guards and could see the slight change in the color on the wall beyond the passage.
“Maybe something will happen today,” I offered optimistically.
I wanted to start the day off right. But Jacey and Joanna were not up for it. All of us were depressed, tired, hungry and so very thirsty. But I could not let despair get the best of us.
“Please,” Joanna said. “Stop trying to make things better. You can’t.”
“I’m sorry if I don’t want to die like this,” I said.
“What choice do we have?”
“We can choose to not give up,” I offered. “We can be there for each other.”
Jacey laughed then, a strange laugh. It took Joanna and I off guard. We looked over to see our younger sister glaring at us through teary eyes.
“When were we ever there for each other?” She asked slowly, speaking each word with great deliberation. “Joanna left when I was only twelve, left us alone with that monster.”
“That was so I could come back and help you,” Joanna argued. “You ungrateful brat. I went through the same shit you did.”
“Hardly!” Jacey came toward us, stopping in front of my face.
“And you,” she pointed her finger at me, “you were never there.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He never touched you,” she said. “He never laid a finger on you.”
“That’s not true, Jacey,” I said, and suddenly I was crying too.
Then Joanna yelped in pain. She was lying against the cave wall, suddenly writhing in agony. She grabbed her leg above the knee and winced.
“Cramp!” She cried out. “Agh!”
The dehydration that our bodies were enduring was becoming extreme. Watching her
suffer the cramp almost incited my muscles to seize too. Jacey’s expression changed to empathy as Joanna cried out.
I stood and went to my sister’s side. I grabbed Joanna’s hand and rubbed her thigh.
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Ladies,” a man’s voice said from the tunnel. “Breakfast time.” It was Tybalt, appearing at the entrance with a tray of food.
It was dry flatbread and dehydrated, salted meat. We took it anyway. It had been twenty-four hours since we last ate real food. We only nibbled though, careful not to parch ourselves.
“I see no one has drunk yet,” Tybalt said. “Don’t worry. You will.” Then he smiled and left us. Claudius and Gertrude resumed their posts.
We didn’t talk much after that. But when we did, it quickly escalated into an argument. Eventually we became too weak to talk much at all.
I wanted to sleep but feared if I allowed myself to drift away, I might never wake up. I heard Joanna say something similar. Jacey was moaning.
“I’m going to drink,” she said at one point, late in the day.
“No,” I protested with as much energy as I could muster. “You can’t. We can make it.”
“I don’t want to make it,” Jacey said. “I’m happy to stay here. Maybe I belong here.” Joanna raised her head and looked at Jacey, tears now filling her eyes.
“Don’t say that,” Joanna said. “I’ve said that about myself before, in dark places.”
“You aren’t damaged goods,” I said. “Neither of you are. You both have a lot to live for. We’re going to get out of here.”
“Why not drink?” Jacey asked. “It’s the only way.”
“We can’t,” I said. “She’ll own us.”
“If they have boats up there,” Jacey reasoned. “If there’s a chance we can make it off the island, I’m not dying of thirst in this cave, next to a gushing spring.”
“She’s right,” Joanna said. Her eyes were growing wide with recognition and I suddenly felt a sense of dread. They had already decided. There was no point in arguing.
