Beyond Redemption

by India Masters

  Could he live with himself if he didn’t find her and take her back? He certainly couldn’t imagine a world without his Angel in it. Even when he’d been off fighting the government’s private wars, he’d known where she was. Knew she was hard at work making a difference in people’s lives, and that knowledge gave him hope. Gave him the will to survive under the toughest conditions. He’d moved heaven and earth more times than he could count just to be able to see her again. To spend one night in her arms. He didn’t figure a man ever got over that kind of love, even if it wasn’t returned. But he still had hope. Because she’d admitted in a fit of anger that she had been falling for him.

  Mitch stood up and paced the smooth stones paving the center of the garden where a gurgling fountain soothed. He would tell her. Once he found her and took her back, he would tell her everything, and she would love him again. He sat back down and closed his eyes, forcing himself to rest. It could be days before he closed his eyes again, so he’d take every opportunity to refresh himself.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping, but a light nudge to his ankle had him jolting awake, dropping into a fighting stance.

  “Easy, bro, it’s just me.”

  Seth. Thank God. Mitch yawned and rotated his neck. “About time you got here, man. I got so bored waiting, I fell asleep.”

  Seth chuckled. “Come on. Emilio’s got news.”

  Chapter Ten

  “She was seen crossing the border in Tarapaca in the company of two men.” Emilio pointed to a dot on the map indicating a small town just across the border between Brazil and Colombia. “One of the men was identified as Jorge Collado.”

  Acosta’s jaw tensed. “That little son of a bitch. He wanted to sell her. Said with her blonde hair and pretty face, she’d fetch a fortune in the Middle East. If that’s the plan, they’re probably heading for Buenaventura. But if FARC wants her for ransom, they’ll head to Ecuador, to the cloud forest. Either way it’s going to be slow going because there aren’t many good roads and the Colombian army has a pretty heavy presence all along the border. My guess is they’ll go as far as they can by car; then they’ll have to hike the rest of the way.”

  The three men studied a series of maps for the best route to each destination. Emilio said, “I’ll cover Buenaventura. I have business interests there, so my being there will not seem suspicious.” He squeezed Mitch’s shoulder. “I’ll call your sat phone the moment I know something, my friend. Now we should get you geared up, yes? We will leave at first light.”

  * * * * *

  Two weeks rough travel brought Acosta and Boudreaux to the village of La Hormiga, thirteen miles from the border of Ecuador, where they met up with a FARC contingent, but Jorge Collado was not with them.

  “He should be here in a few days, amigo, with a couple of hostages for the general. I think he will not be happy to see you, Acosta. I have heard he has your woman with him. The general requires her…services…or so I am told. And Jorge has another friend of yours traveling with him. You remember Benito García, eh? I think he will not have been too kind to your woman, and he has not forgotten you broke his nose.”

  Acosta shrugged. “If he doesn’t kill her, she’ll heal, no? So long as he doesn’t break her pussy, what do I care what he does to her?”

  The FARC guerilla grinned. “She’s got a tight one, does she?”

  Mitch laughed and rubbed his crotch. “Like a glove, amigo, like a glove.” He looked over at Seth. “What do you think, son; maybe we should do some hunting before the lady arrives. She’s going to need her strength with this lot.”

  No one had a problem with Mitch and Seth leaving; in fact, they encouraged them to bring back as many monkeys as they could carry and promised a feast fit for a king if their hunt went well. Of course, they had no intention of returning to La Homiga. Their plan was to intercept Collado and García and take their prisoners from them before they could ever reach Medina’s camp.

  * * * * *

  The man called Collado had calmed down once Angelique had cared for his friend. He left the man in the care of an old woman and her family and had taken the car as far as it was possible to go before abandoning it on the side of the muddy road in favor of an almost nonexistent trail. They had walked for days, climbing ever higher into the rainforest. She was exhausted but dared not complain for fear of another beating. She’d had to set her own nose, and bruises she’d sustained when she’d tried to escape were just now beginning to heal. She was dirty, tired, covered with bug bites, and hungry, but she told herself to hang on. Acosta would find her, if for no other reason than to secure her for himself.

  Night was falling on the seventh day of their hike when she stumbled. Collado grabbed her by the front of her shirt with a sneer. “We are here, Doctor, though I do not suppose you will like your guide for the final leg of your journey.” With that he shoved her through the overgrowth and into the light of a fire, and there, across the flames, was Benito García. He rose with a grace that surprised her and moved to stand before her.

  “We meet again, Doctor.” He backhanded her, knocking her to the ground. “It is a shame I cannot do more, but General Medina wishes to see you and I am under orders to see to it that you get there unharmed.” He laughed when she glared up at him from the forest floor. “That was just an example of what to expect if you try to escape.” He nodded to Collado. “Put her in the tent with the other prisoner. We leave at first light.”

  Angelique was roughly dragged to her feet and shoved toward a tent on the far side of the clearing. Collado unzipped the tent entrance and shoved her so hard she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. The door was zipped closed behind her, and she shrieked when a hand groped for her in the dark.

  “Shh…it’s all right.” It was a woman’s voice. “It’s okay. Are you thirsty? I have some water.”

  “Yes,” Angelique croaked. “But my mouth is filled with blood.”

  “I know the feeling,” came the grim reply. “I’ll unzip the tent. You rinse your mouth and spit.” She spoke in rapid Spanish to let their captors know what they were doing, and Angelique rinsed the blood from her mouth. The girl secured the tent again and urged Angelique to drink. “I’m Taffe Thurgood; what’s your name?”

  The tepid water was as good as anything Angelique had ever tasted in her life. “Angelique Vernet,” she said. “I’m a doctor with the Helping Hands organization. You’re the girl from the Peace Corps that was taken, aren’t you?”

  “That would be me,” Taffe said. “FARC is holding me for ransom. They keep telling me my father won’t pay, but I know that’s not true. I hear them talking, you know? Every time Father agrees to their demands, they up the price. I… How long have I been here, do you know? I’ve lost track of time.”

  Angelique screwed the top back on the canteen and handed it to Taffe. “I’ve been here about three months, and when I arrived my boss told me you’d been missing for six months.”

  Taffe sighed. “Nine months. Almost a year. My fiancé must have given up on me by now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Angelique said. “I… Do you know where they’re taking us?”

  “To some rebel camp up in the cloud forest in Ecuador. They have to get us out of Colombia because the Colombian army is still patrolling pretty heavily along the border. They plan to smuggle us into Ecuador. I guess they think nobody will look for us outside of Colombia. I heard them saying this General Medina met you in Brazil and ordered them to abduct you. I also heard García is just looking for a reason to hurt you.”

  Angelique closed her eyes. “Jesus,” she whispered. “This trip just keeps getting better and better. I swear, if I get out of here alive, I’m resigning from Helping Hands and going back to work at Charity. New Orleans seems a hell of a lot safer all of a sudden.”

  * * * *

  Angelique didn’t know how many miles they’d hiked, but her legs were crying out for relief from the constant up and down. Evidently García wasn’t worried about being followe
d, because he hacked away at their path with his machete, taking no pains to hide their trail. Angelique and Taffe added their own signs to the trail by dragging their feet, leaving gouges in the earth. Whenever they stopped for water, Angelique made an effort to collect small stones to drop on the trail, and often used the smaller stones to play a telling game of tic-tac-toe on larger rocks. Mitch and Seth would easily pick up their trail if they were looking for her, and she had to believe, despite what she’d witnessed, that they would be looking for her.

  For six interminable nights Angelique was forced to listen to García sweat and grunt over Taffe. The girl only cried out once and came to her the next day, worried because she was bleeding from her anus. The pig had forced her into anal sex and had been none too gentle about it. Angelique comforted her the best she could and told her she’d see what she could do to stop it.

  On the seventh night out Taffe excused herself to use the “facilities,” and Angelique looked across the campfire.

  “So have you always known you were gay, García?” The man stiffened, glaring at her. She shrugged. “I only ask because I’m researching the individual’s realization of their homosexuality and the onset of actual homosexual activities.”

  She stood up, not bothering to look at him, and strolled to the small stack of firewood near the edge of the forest. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when he followed her, backing her into a tree trunk, a hand at her throat.

  García was a primitive, uneducated man, and Angelique intended to use his ignorance of medical and social sciences against him, to manipulate him into leaving Taffe alone for the duration of their trip. The knife was at her throat again, but she knew he wouldn’t use it, not unless she attempted to harm him in some way. It was strictly for show, as were his nightly demonstrations of virility.

  “Believe me, Doctor, I am no homosexual. You have heard me with your little friend, after dark, when the jungle comes alive.”

  She gave him her best academic look. “I have heard you, Mr. García. That’s why I asked. You see, studies have shown that men who are struggling against their latent homosexual tendencies will often engage in frantic bouts of heterosexual behavior, in order to prove to themselves and others that they are straight. Often this behavior will manifest itself in incidents of forced sexual intercourse. And, of course, anal intercourse, because, well, anal intercourse is a huge component in homosexual sexual activities.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “When we get to our location, may I interview you for my study?”

  The blow staggered her, and she felt her knees wobble. Taffe dashed across their tiny campground to catch her as she tumbled sideways. Just before her eyes rolled back in her head, Angelique heard Benito García curse them both and tell Taffe to put her blanket next to the doctor’s.

  The embers of the fire were dying when Angelique came to with a groan.

  “Shh…Doctor,” Taffe whispered. “Do not wake him. He has been drinking, and I fear what he might do if he wakes up.” She shook a damp rag and placed it on Angelique’s aching jaw. “I’m so sorry he hurt you. Thank you for what you did. I think he’ll leave me alone now.”

  “No,” Angelique whispered, pulling her in for a hug. “It’s probably my fault he hurt you. I humiliated him in public and he threatened me, but since Medina wants me, he can’t take his anger out on me. I suspect that’s why he focused on you. But you’re right; I think it will stop now.”

  García pushed them hard for the next few days, shaking them awake before sunrise and refusing to stop until the sun went down. From the way he was moving, Angelique suspected they were close to their destination, and heaven only knew what would happen once they arrived in the camp of General Alejandro Medina.

  * * * *

  Angelique suppressed a shudder as they stepped into the clearing, determined to show no fear. Standing in the center of camp, surrounded by leering men, she kept her arm securely wrapped around Taffe’s shoulders. Chin jutting stubbornly, her upper lip curled in disdain, her expression said she smelled something bad and didn’t care who knew it. One man approached, taking a lock of hair between his fingers to test the softness. He smiled and reached to touch her cheek. Angelique jerked her head away.

  “If you value that hand, you will keep it to yourself.” Her Spanish enunciation was precise despite the clenching of her jaw. She spoke softly, for his ears only. “That goes for both of us.”

  The man gave her a hard look but stepped back as footsteps approached.

  “Dr. Vernet, what a pleasure it is to see you again! I am honored to have you in my camp.”

  Angelique gave him a tight smile. “General Medina.”

  “Please, you must call me Alejandro.” The general turned the full force of his smile on her.

  “Alejandro, then. You are aware that we are here under duress? And that we have been roughly treated?”

  The handsome general frowned at his lackey. “Yes, and Benito will be dealt with, believe me. However, since you are here, you will be my honored guest and, perhaps, inspect the health of my troops? We have a small infirmary set up on the other end of the camp.”

  “I would be happy to check on your men, General. I assume you have quarters available for Taffe and myself? We’ll share accommodations if that’s all right with you.”

  The general, hands clasped behind his back, gave her a nod. “Of course, Doctor. García will show you to your tent and will see to your every need. You will join me for dinner? My cook is preparing locro. The potatoes were freshly dug today, and both they and the cheese come from a nearby village, so the soup should be especially flavorful. I will also have the cook bake some pão de queijo. You have eaten the cassava rolls before?”

  Angelique smiled warmly. “Indeed I have, General…er…Alejandro, and please allow me to thank you for your kind consideration and generous welcome. We will look forward to breaking bread with you.” The general never blinked, but Angelique knew damn well it wasn’t the man’s intent to invite Taffe to dinner. She’d outmaneuvered him quite smoothly, if she did say so herself, and he flushed when she turned her Southern belle charm on him. “I’ll look forward to speaking with you later, sir.” She turned a smug gaze on García. “You have medical supplies, I assume? I’ll need to sort through and categorize what you have.” Once again she smiled at Medina. “I hope that’s all right, Alejandro?”

  “Of course, Angelique.” He glowered at García and barked, “See to it our guests have everything they require.” He spat out some more orders and turned on his heel, departing.

  Angelique was pleasantly surprised by their quarters, which consisted of a large, wood-framed canvas tent. The dirt floor was covered with layers of brightly colored rag rugs, and there was a cot on either side of the tent, one large enough to fit two occupants comfortably. A large table sat between the cots, covered in a deep red cloth. Two oil lamps sat at each end of the table, and there was a mirror in the center. There was another table, along with a chair, perched near the foot of one of the cots. Angelique assumed this was to be a desk for her use, as it held a couple of yellow legal pads and a package of black pens. Medina was prepared for her.

  Her legs shook as she stood there looking around. For a hostage she was certainly getting the royal treatment. FARC was not well-known for their gentle treatment of their captives, even the wealthy ones, so Medina certainly had something more in store for her than mere ransoming. The handsome general clearly intended to avail himself of her body. She gritted her teeth. Like that was going to happen.

  “We have to stick together, Taffe,” Angelique said once García was gone. “We can’t let them separate us, and we can’t let the general know we suspect his motives are less than pure. If we play our cards right, we both just might get out of here without being…abused.”

  Taffe sighed tiredly. “Perhaps you will, Angelique, but I don’t think I’ll be so lucky.”

  “All the more reason to stick together. If one of us has to pee, the other one goes along to watch h
er back. We’re in this together, okay?”

  Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. “Works for me.” Her voice shook, and she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. “I want to go home, Angelique. I’m so tired of being dirty and hungry. I want to go home.”

  Angelique guided her to a cot and sat down beside her, holding her as she cried. “Shh…hush now. We’ll get out of here. Somehow. I just know it.” She rocked the young woman, continuing to reassure her. “Stretch out on the cot now, and take a little rest until they come for us. You’ve got to be exhausted. I know I am.”

  “Yes,” Taffe whispered. She lay down, closed her eyes, and in moments was asleep.

  Once Taffe fell asleep, Angelique stretched out on her cot and knew no more.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ve got the camp.” Mitch’s relief was palpable. Angelique was no wilting flower. She was a fighter, and she’d do her level best to keep herself alive.

  “How far?” Seth’s voice was whisper quiet.

  “Three klicks. Maybe a little less.”

  Crouching low in the dense foliage, he crab-walked toward Mitch. “Any sign of patrols?”

  Mitch shook his head. “I’m gonna use the sat phone and give the army our location. They’re so firmly entrenched here they probably feel safe. Sentries once the sun goes down, for sure, but the camp should be relaxed otherwise. We should be able to get close enough to put eyes on her.”

  Seth grinned. “We ain’t wearin’ jungle camo for nothing, bon ami. I’m gonna set a few claymores around, give ’em the impression there’s more of us.”

  The jungle dwellers took no note of their passage as the two men melted into the background and made their way closer to the guerilla camp.