Captive Dove

by Leon, Judith

  She smelled coffee. Regina, her strong, beautiful daughter, had put on music. To the strains of “O Holy Night,” Suleema headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter 44

  Too late. It was too late to send a warning to the Special Ops helicopter. Nova watched, horrified, as one of Escurra’s four guards fired off a stinger missile.

  The helicopter exploded with a massive kabloom! into a ball of red and black smoke that twirled toward the ground. Two of the guards standing in the tennis-court-sized clearing in front of the cave’s mouth sprinted off toward where the craft would hit or get hung up in the trees.

  Solange was hugging Nova, her fingers like a vise on Nova’s arm.

  Joe rose. “Bebe. Solange. Stay here!”

  Running in a crouch, he sprinted toward the cave. Nova extricated herself from Solange’s grip. “Stay,” she repeated. She pulled the Glock from the bag as she ran after him.

  The remaining two guards stood about fifteen feet from the cave mouth, sideways to Nova and Joe. She watched as Joe squatted behind a tree, pulled a silencer from a pocket on his pant leg and fixed it to his Glock.

  He aimed and fired. A clean headshot dropped the closest guard. A second shot took out the second guard even as he was staring in surprise at his companion.

  Joe stood and ran at top speed toward the cave, and Nova kept right behind him. They didn’t have much time. When they reached the cave, she said, “Go get him. I hope to God he’s here. I’ve got your back.”

  Joe disappeared inside.

  Breathing hard, her pulse thrumming at the crook of her throat, she backed up closer to the cave’s mouth and knelt behind a shoulder-high boulder. A minute passed, a long, long minute.

  Joe finally emerged from the cave tugging the Hill boy with one hand. Yes! She felt a rush of elation as Joe ran with the boy back toward Bebe and Solange.

  One of two guards who’d gone after the helicopter returned. She fired twice, then sprinted after Joe and Alex. Neither man went down. Shots rang out. The guard’s aim wasn’t very good. She was still in the open. While still sprinting, she returned fire.

  Then reached the trees.

  Joe and the others ran for their lives, back the way they had come, toward the river. Solange, with her dreadful shoes, slowed them down and Bebe wasn’t leaving Solange’s side. Nova stuck the pistol into the bag, ran harder, caught up and yelled, “You have to take off the shoes, Solange. I don’t care if it hurts like hell.”

  Joe and Alex were way ahead of them. Four shots rang out. The two guards had decided to pursue them, but no one had yet been hit.

  Solange kicked off the shoes, and their speed picked up.

  Joe led the way on what Nova took to be a pell-mell scramble with no particular direction, leaping and stumbling hand-over-foot to cross massive tree roots and avoid clinging vines.

  Once she heard Alex yell to Joe, “I’m too tired. I have to stop.”

  Joe yelled back. “We can’t stop, kid. You can do this.” He pulled Alex to his feet, and the five of them ran on.

  Ahead she could see light through the trees. They had to be coming close to the river. She was trying to keep track of direction, noting landmarks and distinctive vegetation. The ground had been more or less level. No one expected the mini-ravine, and all five of them tumbled down fifteen feet of brush-enshrouded ground.

  Ahead of them, though, lay the river. They leaped up and rushed to it. Panting, Joe said, “We get to the road. We can hide there. I’ll call for someone to pick us up.”

  With Joe leading and Nova bringing up the rear, they wove their way back and forth around ancient wood obstacles, keeping the river in sight to avoid getting lost in the darkness of the forest.

  Suddenly, Alex, a couple of feet in front of her, stopped. She bumped into him. For the first time she noted that he was pale. No. Not pale. His face, a milk-chocolate brown naturally, looked drained of all color and massive beads of sweat raced down his skin. His eyes closed and he dropped to the ground as though he’d been shot.

  But there had been no sound of shooting for at least a minute. She didn’t doubt that the guards were pursuing; they would have to explain to Escurra that they had tried everything possible to prevent the boy’s escape. Could they have a silencer?

  “Stop,” she yelled to Joe.

  She knelt beside the boy, looking for any signs of a wound. “Alex! Alex!”

  Nothing but weak eye movement behind his lids.

  Diabetic! Coma. Shock.

  Whatever they called it. Alex was having an attack from the stress of running and the heat. She ran her hands over his pants pockets, praying she would find his kit, or at least a packet of glucagons tablets, but he had absolutely nothing with him.

  Joe knelt beside her. “He’s in shock,” Joe said. “He’s run out of sugar.”

  “He doesn’t have any glucagon tablets on him.”

  “Shit! We find him and then we kill him!”

  “He needs sugar. Fast. Give me your knife, Joe.”

  Chapter 45

  Joe slipped a Ka-Bar from a sheath strapped to his right calf. Nova grabbed it and stood. He said, “Where are you going?”

  “I saw two or three sugar apple trees not too far back. Fruit was ripe and low enough I can reach it. Hang on.”

  “Do you need me?”

  “No. Keep guard. Escurra’s men may show up. I’ll be right back.”

  She remembered exactly where the trees were. Typical of trees growing wild in a jungle, there were only two, not a grove, about fifteen feet tall. Ripe fruit hung heavily on both. A troop of squirrel monkeys were stuffing their mouths. At her approach they shrieked and took off to watch her from nearby, higher trees.

  The ripe fruit, green on the outside and a creamy white on the inside, hung low enough for her to cut off six quickly. With their many conical segments, they strongly resembled an oversized hand grenade. She cut off six and only then realized that her bag was missing. The fall! When she’d tumbled down the hill, the strap must have broken.

  Juggling all six apples, she ran back. Alex was mumbling when she again knelt beside him. Solange and Bebe hovered, Bebe holding his arm around his daughter, probably imagining how he would feel if it were his child lying on the forest floor near to expiring from lack of sugar to feed her cells.

  Nova split a fruit, plucked out a segment and expelled the big conical seed. “Can he chew?” She handed the fruit to Solange. “Separate out the seeds of more of this.”

  “Alex,” Joe said. “You have to chew this.”

  Nova squeezed some of the juice into Alex’s mouth. His tongue licked. She squeezed the last of it. Again his tongue licked and he swallowed.

  Solange handed her another segment and she squeezed again. One by one they fed him the juice until his eyes flicked open. Joe helped him sit up and handed him a whole piece of the sweet-smelling fruit, which Nova knew to be delicious. Alex gobbled it down and held out his hand for another.

  Within less than fifteen minutes, the crisis passed. No guards had shown up. Before they went on, Nova took Bebe with her and collected another six fruits, just in case Alex should need another sugar fix.

  “After I saw you,” Alex explained, looking at Nova, “they moved me and took away my travel kit and didn’t feed me. I’m going to need food and insulin again soon.”

  “I know,” she said. “We’re working on it.”

  Not much farther along they found themselves in a tiny clearing along the riverbank. A canoe had been pulled up onto land and Joe borrowed it, Nova silently blessing the fates that the current ran with them.

  Solange sighed as she sank down in the center and inspected her battered feet. Joe used the single paddle to keep them on course while Nova communicated with Special Ops. She explained, keeping her tone and words formal, what had happened to the SO helicopter. She knew how close the SO guys were. There was going to be terrible sadness and also recrimination among them over the downing of that team; they should never have come that d
irectly anywhere near the cave. She explained that she and Joe planned to get back to Joe’s Land Rover and use it to return to Martinez’s place for an SO pickup. Her contact agreed. They discussed timing. He shared the information that word was out about the earlier rescue.

  After she hung up, she told Joe, “They’re pissed that the Brazilian authorities have found out that most of the hostages have been rescued. Carlito talked to someone aboard the Ronald Reagan. The word is also out that Escurra is involved.”

  Joe shifted the paddle to the other side of the canoe. “Bad news for us. We need to get out of here fast, before things get complicated.”

  When they reached the road, Joe steered them onto the riverbank, and after they clambered out, she checked his watch. Seven o’clock. The sound of a motor shocked them into silence. “Hide!” Joe said. “Except you, Bebe. If it’s anyone who might not be one of Escurra’s thugs, stop them if you have to throw yourself in front of the car.”

  Bebe grinned. “This is Brazil and we are far from any city. I will not have to throw myself in front of the car.”

  It turned out to be a rancher from a small spread headed into town, his truck bed piled high with cotton bales. He smiled and waited patiently for Joe, Nova and Alex to climb aboard the pile, while Bebe and Solange slid inside with him.

  In less than eight minutes they reached Joe’s Land Rover. After thanking the rancher profusely, they climbed inside, and Joe had them back on the road in double-quick time, heading for the Martinez ranch.

  They had no choice but to drive past Escurra’s entry gate, there being only one road, and a car came out, racing after them. “It’s Martinez’s brother, Rodrigo,” she said, “and three other men.” The car was a garish, yellow Thunderbird.

  The Land Rover lurched into higher speed, Joe’s foot pressed hard on the gas.

  “Plan B,” she said. “We do need to get out of Brazil ASAP. Let’s turn off at the next big road. There’s a hotel on this side of the Brazil-Argentina border with a helicopter pad. They give tourists rides over the falls.” She snatched a look behind them. The yellow Thunderbird was narrowing the gap between them. “I flew out of there once. We can borrow the helicopter and get to the Martinez place much faster.”

  “How close?”

  “We need to try it, Joe. It’s the best option. And I have to tell you, I lost the Glock.”

  When they turned onto the road, clearly labeled with a big green and blue sign with the hotel’s name on it, they were still ahead of Escurra’s thugs, but just far enough to be out of shooting range. Apparently Escurra’s men had souped-up the Thunderbird.

  “Turn right, turn right,” she yelled. The Land Rover fishtailed into the right turn. The hotel itself sprawled off to her left. The helicopter pad, assuming there still was one, should be just around the next tree-lined bend.

  Nova looked back again. The Thunderbird was hidden behind trees lining the road, but now she could clearly hear its motor’s roar. She strained forward, holding her breath and praying. She checked her watch. Seven thirty. No tourist flights were likely to be scheduled before eight or nine o’clock. What if the key wasn’t in the helicopter? Where had it been kept before? She tried to remember where the office for the sightseeing flights was located. They might have to break in.

  They rounded the bend and there sat the helicopter, tied down and waiting. Not a soul in sight. Office about fifty feet away. “Let us out at the pad,” she said. “If we’re lucky, the key will be in the ignition.”

  The Land Rover’s brakes squealed as Joe jerked them to a stop. He yelled, “Everyone out,” at the same time she yelled, “I’ll check for the key.”

  She opened the helicopter’s Plexiglas door and checked the ignition, under the seat and in the visor. Alex had climbed into the front passenger seat. On his own he’d opened the single map compartment. “No key, Nova,” he said.

  With her hand on the door she turned and yelled to Joe, “No key.”

  The yellow Thunderbird roared into view. Joe fired off three shots and the car braked to a dust-spraying stop. The four thugs climbed out, squatted behind their car and started laying down fire. She didn’t think they would shoot at the helicopter, not with Alex in it. But she couldn’t be sure, and neither could Joe.

  Joe was returning fire. Nova sucked in a deep breath and sprinted in a zigzag to the office. As she threw herself through the open doorway, she remembered exactly where the keys had been kept. Under the counter, under a statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger dressed as the commando in the movie Predator.

  Chapter 46

  The helicopter key, all these years later, still lay under the little statue. Nova grabbed it. Zigzagging to the sounds of gunfire, she sprinted to the helicopter. The pad sat just feet from the rim of Devil’s Throat, one of the most spectacular parts of the falls. She could hear the roaring and knew the water lay roughly two hundred feet below the rim.

  Bebe had untied the last of the four hold-downs. He scrambled into a seat from the passenger side as she leapt into the pilot’s seat and shoved the key into the ignition. The machine responded. Blades began to churn.

  Escurra wasn’t with the men firing at Joe. Escurra presumably still thought he could hide behind his respectability and his paid protection, but the Brazilian feds were on to him. He’d soon get his.

  Joe got a good line of fire, and Rodrigo, Felip Martinez’s brother, went down, a new hole between his eyes.

  Finally the gauges indicated that the helicopter’s blades were up to speed. Leaning out the window, she yelled, “Now, Joe.”

  He stood, and then twisted and fell, his right leg collapsing under him. She couldn’t tell how badly he was hit, but he would need help. She opened the door, but before she could jump out, the three remaining thugs behind the Thunderbird charged toward Joe.

  The moment seemed to stretch out forever as she realized she must either take off without Joe, or all of them could be taken captive again.

  He looked back at her. “Go!” he yelled.

  I can’t leave you!

  “Go!” he yelled again.

  The paralysis broke. Discipline took over—fear for the three people in her care. She slammed and latched the door and lifted the bird, aiming it toward the big drop-off, to get it out of the line of fire as fast as possible.

  Her three passengers twisted to watch the action on the ground just before the helicopter dropped below the rim; Nova kept her eyes on the canyon. All of them put on the headphones with built-in mics.

  “They were on top of him,” Solange said.

  Tears welled. Furious, Nova bit her lip. No crying!

  An extraction at the Martinez place was out; no way would she leave Brazil without Joe. It would be safe to take Solange, Bebe and Alex to the hotel to wait there. And she would use the helicopter to come back to find Joe. She needed to call Special Ops.

  “What time is it, Bebe?”

  “Just a little more than half past seven.”

  Alex touched her arm. She kept her eyes on her flight path.

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  “We’ll soon have you to some food and some medical care.”

  What if they kill Joe? I can’t imagine the world without him. God, if I could only go back right now!

  “I have to tell you something important,” Alex continued. “That guy, Escurra. He’s not the one who set it up for us to get kidnapped.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It was someone else. I heard him on tape.”

  “I’m totally not understanding you, Alex.”

  “Escurra had me in his office. They kept me there or in a bedroom at the beginning. They took pretty good care of me. I had my insulin. I wasn’t even tied up. I could play games on an Xbox he had in there. They just said it was impossible for me to run away because there was nothing but jungle everywhere, and everyone on the place worked for him and I’d die without my insulin. I figured they were right since I’d seen the jungle for myself when they drov
e me in.

  “I was in the office when Escurra got in a big argument with this guy who married Escurra’s daughter.”

  “Uh-huh. Felipe Martinez.”

  “They never caught on that I understand Spanish. My two cousins live in Puerto Rico. I visit all the time. I’m really good at Spanish and it was fun for me to listen to them and them not to get it.

  “Well, this Felipe guy said they should get more money by blackmailing Red Dog. That’s the name they used, in English. Red Dog. And Escurra says, ‘I been thinking Red Dog is more interested in something else than just ransom.’ So I knew the Red Dog guy was one of them. In fact, they talked like the whole thing had been Red Dog’s idea.

  “And Felipe says, ‘We can blackmail him because I’ve got him talking on a tape. Right here.’ So Escurra asked him to play the tape.”

  Nova suddenly had the bizarre feeling that the whole kidnap experience must have unhinged Alex. His tale seemed fantastical. But after what he’d been through, maybe it was understandable. She sure wasn’t going to accuse him.

  “I did something I could probably have gotten killed for, but I wanted to get some proof to screw both these guys and maybe even Red Dog. Like if I got ransomed. So I turned the Xbox up real loud. I walked away from it, and when Felipe came to turn down the volume, I stole his cell phone. Right out of the jacket he’d dropped on a chair.

  “You know, I think these guys figured I was stupid. I don’t know, but whatever. I stole Felipe’s cell phone and I recorded the whole tape thing, with Red Dog and Felipe. And then some stuff with Escurra afterward. But not much. I decided I better hide the cell phone before Felipe missed it. Maybe he’d think he left it somewhere else. I guess he did. I never heard anything about it.”

  They were approaching The Royal Hotel Iguazu’s helicopter pad. The hotel’s tourist helicopter occupied the pad so she was going to have to set down on the lawn. “That’s a pretty wild story, Alex.”