by H. L. Wegley
Peterson pulled a picture up on his cell and turned the display towards Anya.
Lee stepped closer to peer around his shoulder.
“Have you seen either of these men in the last twenty-four hours?”
Anya drew in a sharp breath. She didn’t reply. Fear lurked in her wide eyes.
Lee also saw the picture of two Middle Eastern looking men. The Iranian connection?
Peterson moved the picture closer to Anya. “This is extremely important. These men may ask questions about Jennifer. If you have any information, anything at all, it will certainly help your cause if you tell me now.”
Anya stared at the picture. Her mouth twitched, then slowly opened. “These men…aren’t just evil. They’re crazy.”
Peterson’s body flinched at Anya’s words, like she had struck him. “Then you have seen them. When? Where?”
“They said they would kill me too if I mentioned them to anyone. But I guess they’ll have to get in line.” She looked up into Peterson’s face and gave him a smile that contained more pain than anything else. “When I left the house early this morning to walk to the coffee shop at Piilani Center, they stopped me a couple blocks from the house. Began asking questions about a woman. Asked for the name of the person who owned her. I knew they were asking about Jennifer.”
Peterson held Anya’s gaze. “But you said Jennifer was still at the house when you left.”
“She was.” Anya’s face for the first time displayed a softer, more compassionate look. “Like I said, these guys were completely insane. You wouldn’t believe some of the things they threatened to do. I told them Jennifer had been moved to a boat.”
Anya had lied to protect Jennifer. It was a small thing, given the fact she helped with Jennifer’s abduction, but it revealed a young, caring girl hidden somewhere inside this hardened young woman, the girl who existed before the traffickers stole her innocence and terrified her into submission. The good news Katie wanted to share with her was the only thing Lee believed could restore her innocence and provide the healing she needed from the abuses Anya had suffered.
Peterson pulled out his notepad and pen. “What about the name they asked for?”
“I heard a couple of names mentioned at the house, people I’d never met. Men I assumed were leaders in the trafficking ring. I gave the lunatics their names.”
Peterson’s voice softened. “I need to know the names you gave them, Anya.”
Anya shrugged. “I heard them mention a Nguyen and a Mr. James.”
Peterson’s expression changed at the last name, James. Obviously he knew more about the traffickers than he was telling Lee.
“Thanks, Anya. You’ve been a big help to me. I won’t forget it.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But right now, you need to go with the Maui police. They’ll have a lot of questions for you, but consider them your friends because they will keep you safe.”
Two Maui police officers approached Anya, and she gave Peterson a weak smile. “That’s what Lee said too.”
Lee stepped close to her. “Please help the police any way you can. Your cooperation could save Jennifer’s life.”
“Remember what I said about the good news?” Katie called out as the police led Anya away. “I’ll see you soon, and we can talk about it.”
Anya turned towards Katie, opened her mouth, then closed it and turned to face the Maui policemen.
Lee’s gaze bored into Peterson. “The two men in the pictures you showed to Anya…they’re the Iranian connection.”
Peterson finished writing in his notepad and looked up at Lee. “That didn’t sound like a question.”
Lee stared back at him, his patience now gone. “It wasn’t. They’re part of the…what is it the Iranians call their intelligence organization?”
Peterson sighed. “Ministry of Intelligence and National Security. Sometimes called by acronyms like VEVAK or VAJA. Parts of the organization have secret operating budgets, and there are rogue elements among the agents. That makes it hard to know who’s doing what, for whom, and why.”
Lee shifted his weight from side to side as the antsiness of uncertainty moved his feet and cramped in his stomach. “You’re not very encouraging. That’s the group that committed the chain murders back in the ‘90s, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But—”
“And these are the guys who want Jennifer.” Lee sensed he was on the verge of losing his composure again.
“Lee,”—Peterson studied his face—”they don’t have Jennifer, and they’re not going to get her.”
Katie stepped beside Lee.
Lee glared at the tall FBI agent. “That’s the only reason you came, isn’t it? Because of the national security risks.” He had given Peterson a cruel stab from his poison tongue, and Lee wanted the words back as soon as he spat them out.
“No, it wasn’t the only reason. But it did provide justification for us to—”
“If you aren’t going to find her, we will.” Katie’s words were another stab, a low blow.
Peterson pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the ground.
Lee pulled Katie close to his side and looked up at the tall man. “I’m…we’re sorry. We had no reason to accuse you. But we can’t sit idly by while Jennifer’s being held by a bunch of depraved demoniacs.”
“Like I said, don’t do what you did at Rialto Beach.” Peterson stared into Lee’s eyes with his frowning face of authority. “You nearly got yourselves killed. I’m going back to the police station at Wailuku to be there when they interrogate Anya. I’ll be in touch.”
The fluttering feelings of panic crawled through Lee’s stomach. Things were moving far too slowly. He had wasted far too much time at the house and no one, Peterson included, seemed to be in a hurry to act on the latest information.
He turned towards Granddad. “Obviously Peterson thinks his top-down approach is the best way to find Jennifer. What do you think?”
“Let the FBI search for the big kahuna. We need to search the west side of the island for an anchored yacht.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Lee said. “But the whales have already begun arriving, so now we have hundreds of boats in the water, including quite a few yachts.”
“We think it is anchored. But beyond that…” Granddad gave a palms-up shrug.
Katie’s gaze darted from Lee to Granddad and back again. “While I was talking to her, Anya said the goons never mentioned another female other than her. That means—”
“That we’re looking for a yacht with no women visible on board,” Lee said. “It’s anchored, not moving. And since the search for Jennifer is intensifying, these goons are going to be vigilant, looking for anyone who’s looking at them.” Lee’s mind seemed to be on a roll. “So if we’re not too obvious, we can let them see us looking at them. It may evoke a telltale response.” He paused. “We can pick up binoculars for all of us at the Pacific Whale Foundation store in Maalaea. Then…”
Katie frowned at him. “Don’t stop now, Lee. You were doing great.”
The fluttering in his stomach returned. “Let’s drive to Maalaea. Then we’ll need to split up to cover as much of the area as possible, but I’m not sure where we should concentrate our search.”
Granddad laid a hand on his shoulder. “There are only two areas where we are likely to see an anchored yacht on the west side of Maui.”
Granddad’s words yanked Lee’s gaze to the elderly man’s face.
“What two areas?”
“The first area is from Lahaina northward to the resort hotels, and the second is from Maalaea Bay south to Makena.” Granddad sighed. “Since I know the island better than you, let me take the area from Lahaina northward. I will take Katie with me because we have more territory to cover.”
He continued, “Lee, if you buy the most powerful binoculars they sell at the store, you can cover the entire area using only two observations points. I would suggest Waipuilani Park in Kihei, and then Wailea Point. The point is on the beach trail a
little south of the Grand Wailea Resort. Katie, will you please get the map from our car. The one we used to navigate to this house.”
When Katie returned with the map, Granddad marked the two observation points for Lee. “Check Maalaea Bay from Waipuilani Park first. You might be able to eliminate it quickly because boats usually move through the bay rather than anchor there. Then move to Wailea Point. You can see most of your area from the point, so that’s where I would spend most of my time.”
“Thanks, Granddad. Let’s head for Maalaea. And for the rest of the day, forget about the island speed limits. Let’s keep in mind the two names Anya mentioned, James and Nguyen.” He paused. “I think we need to come up with a suspicious yacht within the next two hours. If not, I’m afraid we may be too late.”
21
“Snake.” James sighed as the slender man appeared. “Get the prince on the secure phone. I need to know where he is, when he’s arriving, and how he wants to transfer the merchandise.”
“Sure thing, Mr. James. Give me a couple of minutes to get him on the line.” Snake disappeared around the starboard corner of the yacht.
One way or another, James wanted the troublesome little beauty off his yacht in thirty minutes or less. Very soon she would become either the prince’s problem or shark bait, very expensive shark bait.
Snake returned in a couple minutes with the phone. “He’s on the line, he wouldn’t give me the info you requested. Said he’ll only talk to you.”
James reached for the phone and prepared for his performance, a balancing act where rationality and the prince’s appetites were brought into equilibrium. An act James hated to perform, but one he’d never yet failed at. Those who failed…most were no longer around.
He put the receiver to his ear. “This is James.”
“Mr. James, I would like to conclude our business matter as soon as possible.” The prince’s voice was more demanding than usual.
“How soon can you get here?” James would gladly hand his problem cargo over to the prince. The sooner the better.
“I will arrive in thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes will be fine.”
“Which side of your vessel is toward the shore?”
So the prince was worried. Worried, but not deterred from claiming his coveted prize, the woman he said was the most beautiful he had ever seen. “The port side.”
“See that you hold that position. I will come alongside, and the cargo will be discreetly loaded from your port side onto my vessel.”
“Rest assured the cargo will be accessible from the port side.”
“There shall be no visibility of the cargo from the shore anywhere from Maalaea to Makena.” The prince’s voice became more demanding.
“That’s quite a stretch of shoreline. But I will ensure that the transfer is not visible from the shore. You do have the payment we agreed upon?”
Silence.
“You felt the need to ask? You are breaking my heart, Mr. James. How long have we been doing business?”
“This is a…much larger and more delicate transaction than normal, and I have immediate travel plans, so—”
“Be ready in thirty minutes. If you do not appear to be ready—if anything does not appear ready—consider the transaction cancelled, because I will also have travel plans.”
“I will be ready. Thirty minutes.”
James terminated the call and looked up at his most trusted employee. “Only one small wrinkle, Snake. We need to move the cargo to a room on the port side.”
“I’m on it, boss.” Snake hissed. “About the move—”
“Just make sure no one sees her. Put her in the guest bedroom and check it to make sure there are no sharp objects lying around. Our previous guest smoked. We don’t want any matches or lighters in there either.”
****
Footsteps outside. The door to the cabin opened. From where Jennifer lay on the floor, she watched the long body of Snake step into the room and close the door behind him.
“It looks like you didn’t listen to me,” Snake hissed. “You wrists are bleeding again, Snow White.”
Jennifer frowned at his new name for her.
“Puzzled, are we? You shouldn’t be, Snow White. You always knew that someday your prince would come.” Snake expelled a breathy laugh as he rolled her body onto an area rug covering part of the floor.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’m going to roll you in this carpet and move you to another room. If anyone sees you outside, into the water you go. Mr. James’s orders. So I suggest you stretch out like a stick and be very still.”
Another room might offer more possibilities for escape. She had found nothing here. And the window of opportunity was rapidly closing.
Jennifer stretched out her legs.
Snake rolled her in the carpet, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her out the door.
The combination of the tape over her mouth and the carpet pressing against her face sent her pulse pounding as panic assaulted her rational mind. Jennifer’s rapid breathing through her nose accelerated. Each breath was shorter than the previous one, like the length of unburned fuse trailing from the emotional bomb that would soon send her into a claustrophobic cataclysm.
When she lost it, Snake would drop her on the deck and the carpet would unroll. Her exposure would give James an excuse to drop her in the water. Jennifer exerted a strength of will she didn’t know she possessed to defuse the panic attack. She forced her respiration to slow to long, equal breaths. She willfully made her body relax from its rigid state and prayed she could retain enough sanity to endure her confinement in the carpet coffin for a while longer.
Snake stopped. Then came the sound of a door opening. He moved again.
It grew darker inside the carpeting. She smelled stale cigarette smoke.
He dropped her.
She braced for the impact with the floor. Instead her body bounced on a bed and spun around twice as Snake pulled the carpet from her body, nearly rolling her onto the floor.
With her head swimming, Jennifer lay on the bed in a dim room that reeked of cigarette smoke. She sneezed.
“Sorry if I’ve offended your delicate sensitivities,” Snake hissed, “but all of the nonsmoking rooms have been taken.”
The awful odor in the room and the sense of evil Snake produced threatened to take whatever was left of her breakfast. Jennifer fought the nausea, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he had disturbed her.
He gripped her upper arms, pulled her onto the floor, and then released her. “Now let’s see what we might need to remove from the premises.” Snake scanned the room then stopped, his feet beside her head.
Jennifer followed his gaze to the wall.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall… Sorry, Snow White, but your mirror has got to go. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself before Prince Charming arrives. In about fifteen minutes I get to give you away to him. Nothing fancy, just a simple little ceremony. Then it’s off on your honeymoon.” Snake laughed a breathy laugh as he pulled the mirror from its wall mounts, carried it out, and closed the door behind him.
Unless Snake was just taunting her, fifteen minutes was all she had if she ever wanted to see Lee again. Jennifer rolled onto her stomach and pushed her forehead into the floor. She needed her hands in front of her to make any progress.
Jennifer pulled her knees under her. She rocked backward into a kneeling position. With hands behind her, she surveyed the room for anything she could use to cut through the restraints. She spotted a heavy ceramic ashtray on a nightstand by the bed.
Footsteps sounded at the door. She prepared herself to roll prostrate on the floor again, but the footsteps stopped. She waited. The feet shuffled occasionally, but the person did not walk away. Evidently she had a guard outside. The guard would complicate things. Now she must worry about making any noises.
I’ve only got about ten minutes.
She folded her body again
st her knees, straining to pull her two hands around her rear to the front side. They wouldn’t go. She extended her arms and pulled downward with her wrists using all of her strength. She toppled onto the floor on her side, sweating profusely. It wasn’t working.
At this point she would have gladly traded her shapely figure for one of those ‘60s beanpole models. Once again she felt the sting of sweat around her mouth as she struggled to return to the kneeling position.
Please, Lord, show me how to do this.
Jennifer took a deep breath and tried to relax her entire body while she released all of the air in her lungs. She rocked back and forth, took another breath, and rocked back as the last of it left her lungs.
Her hands slipped around her seat and caught behind her knees. She was almost there.
More footsteps sounded outside. There were voices. No matter, she couldn’t stop now. She toppled onto her side, slid the ankles restraints as high as they would go on her wrists, and worked her feet, one at a time, through the restraining bands.
The silhouette of the guard appeared on the curtain covering the cabin window. It didn’t move. Maybe he would remain in his spot near the door. But how long would it be until they checked on her again? If they saw her progress, they might drug her.
With the fear of drugs came more adrenaline and more strength.
Standing on her bound feet, Jennifer pulled the tape from her mouth and waddled to the nightstand, where she grabbed the ashtray. It was made of a heavy ceramic material. She waddled to the bathroom door and wrapped one layer of hand towel around the ashtray. She raised it above her head and smashed it onto the corner of the sink.
Only a dull thud. The towel muffled the sound, but it also softened the blow.
Jennifer positioned the ashtray at the precise spot she wanted to strike and carefully raised her hands, like a golfer’s backswing, to a position high above her head.
Please help me do this.
Using all of her strength, Jennifer smashed the ashtray onto the sharpest edge of the sink.
22
