Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo

by Ronda Pauley

  “A ring! He said he had a ring for me. Do you believe that bullshitter?” Tina asked. “Oh, sorry, Dad.”

  Posing as Maria, Miss Sobori typed a reply back to Gopher.

  “I wouldn’t mind being a part of that cover,” Officer Benson said.

  “I’m sure, but no way! We want him alive!” Miss Sobori said and smiled.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  “I speak for all of us at the Bureau. Abeni, you have been through so very much and you have shed light on so many missing pieces of information. I don’t know that anyone else could have managed what you have done. We are honored that you are willing to lay your life on the line to bring the safe return of your mother. This drop you will do is going to be highly strenuous, and we know you haven’t had a lot of sleep lately. I believe you have everything you need, so just catch a nap on the way out there, and take some energy bars and good drinks with you.”

  “I’ll try. Thank you!” Abbi said.

  “Last night’s event shed light on some answers we needed. Calista’s face matched a profile of a suspect we had and her tattoos were a dead give-away. We suspected Calista was after you, so we gave her a controlled environment. This will seal her coffin. Her lawyers will argue that it was a set-up, but we have documentation all the way, thanks to you!”

  “She had dreams of being the top dog of NM2.”

  “Is that so? Well, you brought those plans to an end for that little entrepreneur, Abeni. I’m so very proud of you. I’ve missed you too much, Sugarlump. And your mother. No matter what, know that I love you!”

  “It’s an honor to be part of this,” Abbi said.

  “You have a gift, that gift of vision. I used to have it, not as strong as yours, but mine is fading away. Use it, trust it, Abeni. God-speed and God be with you,” she said. She handed Abbi a packet. “Today’s mission, should you accept it, will be most important in securing your mother’s release. This packet will be more complete. You’ll have a map. Use your GPS. It’s an all or nothing drop.”

  Abbi breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of three different drops, it was all on her. Much less chance that anything could go wrong.

  “I’ll handle it,” Abbi said.

  After a hug, Abbi left Mrs. Hightower’s office.

  She went down to the lobby where Big Sam and Louise waited. Scott would be in the SUV, ready to drive to the secluded wooded area in Shenandoah County, Virginia, for the drop. Abbi thought about her last-minute instructions while Louise seemed intent on catching the driver’s attention. Big Sam took the front seat and navigated.

  Abbi had her rappelling bag, and grabbed the piece called an ascender. Somehow she felt she might need it. She attached it to a loop on her harness so that it would be there if needed.

  With the leotard under her suit, Abbi was ready for this mission. The bag had several pounds of climbing hardware and her harness. Everything was good to go.

  It would probably take two hours to reach their destination. Every minute counted. Abbi used a few minutes of the time to get used to this particular GPS device with its updated features. She was happy to see its owner’s manual in the packet. She studied it, said a little prayer and then it was naptime.

  FIFTY-NINE

  Scott would drive them from Washington, D.C., to an especially secluded area of the Blue Ridge Mountain range marked only by a mile marker. Once again they were in Virginia, at the area known in the inner circle of the Bureau as Virginia’s Killing Forest. As they pulled onto a narrow, winding road and approached a wide pull-off area, Big Sam woke up Abbi.

  “You ready to do this?” he asked.

  “I think so!” Abbi said, but inside she felt some trepidation. Her heart had been racing a lot lately, partly from fatigue, partly from excitement.

  Abbi quickly pulled off her suit, revealing her leotard. Then she switched to the running shoes and lifted her smaller knapsack to stuff in her harness, rope gear, phone and other useful supplies, trying to reduce the weight but still holding all she needed, she hoped. Then Abbi held her fist up to Louise for their fist bump before she left the vehicle. Abbi looked at Big Sam and the young driver.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Abbi said as her adrenaline rush began to kick in.

  “About that. They won’t let us stay,” Big Sam said.

  “OH? When were you going to tell me?”

  The driver said, “I’ll be on stand-by, ready and waiting.”

  Standing by the SUV on the side of the road, Abbi looked over her notebook, map and the list of waypoints in case she had a last-minute question. While she stood there, she checked the GPS coordinates to see if the starting point accurately matched the coordinates in her notes.

  Relieved, she said, “We’re in the right spot!”

  Big Sam just raised an eyebrow at her.

  She looked down at the notebook again and saw a culvert on the list of waypoints. Instructions said to go through the culvert. She checked the topographic map. She had gone over this with Mrs. Hightower. It was time for action but she wondered about the culvert.

  “It’s steep and rugged! Why not just go around the culvert?” she asked Big Sam.

  “Check it out when you get there,” Big Sam said and looked away.

  “Listen, I just want to get it right. OK?” She reached inside the SUV for her water bottle.

  “Of course. Watch every step you make. The time frame is too tight for any missteps. Got that? Now, get out there and stay safe. We’ll just be a half mile up the road. GO!”

  “See ya after the drop!” Abbi said.

  Feeling both excitement and anxiety, she waved and headed into the thick forest. This time there probably was no sniper to protect her. And the SUV was pulling away. She really was on her own, and this was the last chance to make it happen.

  Although she saw no path to follow, Abbi could occasionally see “shine” through leaves and grassy patches in the woods. Someone had passed through the area on the way in, probably to set up the drop location, maybe days ago. She saw no sign that the person had come out of the forested area but couldn’t take the time to look. At this point, she didn’t care. It seemed everything she did up to this point was watched and she was getting used to it. Where it used to annoy her, now that the stakes seemed so high, she had grown to prefer the constant surveillance.

  Abbi kept her GPS on a setting that would remember her path so that, if necessary, she could show the screen and backtrack to the starting point at the SUV when her companions would return for her.

  Abbi listened for signs of activity. Not even the twitter of birds could be detected. That was another indication that someone in this part of the forest watched her every move. She looked high into trees for anything unusual.

  Abbi finally walked far enough that, when she looked through the binoculars, she could see just the top edge of the culvert. Surrounded by brush, widespread from years of growth, it presented a thick barrier.

  She had hiked the silent hilly terrain for something over a quarter of a mile when she finally reached the culvert. The rugged terrain had quickly let her know that these weren’t gently rolling hills—she was deep in the mountains. The steep incline made hiking difficult. She had successfully followed her checkpoints, important since she was only halfway to her destination. She would have to stick close to her pace count to end up at the drop zone. There, she would find a hollow rock under an oak tree.

  She stopped and quickly surveyed the area.

  The small package and its contents made her curious enough that she took off her gloves and removed the brown package from her knapsack. She turned it over, examining the softness of it, and wondered what was in it. Money? Sure. But how much? What else? Some kind of pact? She had her super duper x-ray spray. Hastily, without thinking of the consequences of her actions, she grabbed the spray. Then Abbi looked all around using the binoculars, hoping no one could witness what she was about to do. She lightly sprayed the package with her x-ray spray and blew on the spray hoping to speed up its a
ction and reveal the contents of the package she would be droppin. Nothing showed. She sprayed it again. Finally, she saw some folded papers inside but still no clue whether it was sheets of paper or a quantity of dollar bills.

  Abbi wanted to put the packet away but now it had wet blotches on it. She rubbed and blew on it to get it to dry but the wet spots remained. Hoping she could get it to dry, she picked up the packet and waved it. Finally, feeling stupid, Abbi put the packet as discreetly as possible into her bra with the other items, now crowded, while she fought the urge to yell at herself. She hoped her body heat would help to get the packet dry. She didn’t have time to wait on it. She had to move on.

  A voice in her earpiece asked her why she was breathing so hard. Abbi said something about hyperventilating when she’s nervous. She heard Big Sam say to put her face in her knapsack and breathe slowly. She shook her head and put the spray back in the rappelling bag, hoping no one would wonder about the wet spots or see her waving the packet in the air as if she were trying to attract the attention of a passing motorist. But it was nice to know he was listening.

  The twenty-foot culvert had caught rain during early spring and had a thick growth of algae developing inside its tunnel, making the galvanized steel floor thick with slime. Spider webs covered its opening. At only four feet in diameter, the culvert was too short for Abbi to stand inside. Abbi would have to crawl. Oddly, she saw no indication that another person had gone through the culvert.

  Sliding down would be easy but climbing back up at that angle would hard to do, even with the shoes she wore. To go around the culvert would mean hiking through a huge growth of briars and wild grapevines. That would throw her off her pace count and her direction. It was too risky to chance that. She had to stick to the plan and go through the culvert.

  Her binoculars were hanging around her neck. She put the phone with the small packet in her bra, using it again as two pockets that were overfilled. Then she grabbed the knapsack and took out some lightweight nylon webbing. She stepped into her climbing harness and checked to see that she had a small loop of webbing for safety, some carabiners, her ascender, and some extra neon pink nylon webbing attached to loops if she needed them. Then she hid the knapsack near the culvert.

  The slimy condition of the culvert convinced Abbi to tie the extra webbing to a nearby tree. She threw the tail of the webbing inside the culvert toward its base. Holding onto the webbing would help her climb back up through the slimy steel pipe on her return trip.

  Reluctantly, she knew she would need to put the climbing harness on now, before going through the culvert since she didn’t want to drag the whole knapsack through the slimy mess. Once she had it on, her only option would be to crawl through the culvert on her knees to avoid having a wet harness and a slimy butt. Finally, with her harness on securely, she attached the carabiners, her phone, and GPS. She kept the drop packet stashed away in her bra. After Abbi put on neoprene gloves for comfort and protection, she was ready for the descent into the culvert.

  Although slippery and wet, the inside of the culvert didn’t smell too bad. Abbi detested what the wet slime would do to her running shoes. Hiking boots would have worked so much better. If she didn’t think about creepy, crawly things that live in slime, going down through the culvert was easy going. Although the greenish brown masses on her knees looked and felt disgusting, the gloves kept her hands clean and dry, and her shoes gave traction as well as protection. After crawling out the other end, she brushed off her knees the best she could with dry leaves.

  Abbi let go of the slime-covered pink webbing and left the culvert behind. Then she hiked down the rest of that hill. On the next ridge she would find the zipline. Abbi continually checked the GPS and counted her paces, looking at the waypoints as she hiked. She soon realized, when she got slightly off course, that an uphill pace can be a different length from a downhill pace. She tried to compensate to keep her pacing even. Getting her pacing right was critical to ending up in the drop zone.

  Abbi breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the zipline just where it should be. Beyond that, she could see the deep ravine with its huge boulders. This is what she would be crossing on the zipline. The look of the deep gap made her question her abilities and the condition of the zipline, especially when it became obvious by its lack of tension that the construction of the zipline happened well before today’s drop. She wondered when and for what purpose. She had believed it was just recently installed but it had the look of a well-used zipline, and she knew very well that ropes wear out.

  Trying not to think about the ravine and the frail look of the sagging zipline, Abbi studied the last two coordinates and committed them to memory. She adjusted her climbing harness and her bra that was full of items other than her own anatomy. She felt top-heavy and crowded in the already-snug leotard but her hands were free for the ride down the zipline and nothing should fall out. She would soon attach her main carabiner to the zipline.

  Although the zipline was downhill, she attached the ascender so that it would be handy for going back up the zipline on her return trip. This piece of mechanical advantage should make going up almost as easy as the descent, just somewhat slower. That is, if the zipline had the zipline been taut but she already noted it was not.

  Abbi’s heartrate quickened, ready for flight on the zipline in her tight-fitting black leotard. Like a Ninja, she would use her body’s strength, weight and agility to maneuver above the treetops.

  She used her binoculars for one quick magnificent view of the ravine before she hooked up. The hemlock trees and splashes of ferns hanging on the sides of the circular cliffs and boulders amazed her in their beauty. Then she left the binoculars swinging freely from her neck, a move she would soon regret.

  Abbi finally hooked up to the zipline, sat in the harness, and enjoyed the descent. Her heart raced at the exhilaration of looking straight down into the gorge. Wind whistled in her ears. Occasionally she could look down through 75 to 100 feet of open space to the moss-covered rocks on the floor of the ravine. At other times, she skimmed the tops of trees. When she did, she felt the rush of adrenaline, the bitter taste staying in her mouth like the aftertaste of a bad orange. She would be alright as long as the rope didn’t begin to sag any more.

  Whether it was the chilly air lifting up from the ravine or her own excitement, she had goose bumps. She expected the element of danger in this mission but hadn’t expected the mission to be so much fun. The captivating beauty of the ferns and wildflowers on the forest floor on her rapid descent was enough to take her breath away. She wanted to stop to take pictures, but her timeline was too short for photography. Her mission had to be a success.

  Abbi moved along under the zipline quickly until the strap of the binoculars caught up in her pulley, bringing her to a sudden stop. Perched above the ravine, she tried to pull her weight up by the zipline itself and reduce the weight in the harness so that she could free up the binocular strap. Unsuccessful at first, she felt a momentary clutch of panic. She pulled herself up by hanging directly onto the zipline with both hands, grateful for the gloves she wore. Freeing her weight from the zipline, she was able to uncoil the neckstrap of the binoculars and release them.

  Abbi cautiously enjoyed the rest of her ride but moved along as quickly as she could now. She knew she could do the drop in the allotted window of time but getting back would be difficult. Before long, she had crossed the ravine and landed within a tenth of a mile of the drop zone.

  Searching her memory for the pace counts, she found her waypoints and looked for the hollow rock. She hiked downhill from the zipline, counting one hundred paces, but wanted to speed up for two reasons: (1) given a short time frame, she didn’t want any NM2 people to suspect that anything was wrong while she finished the drop, especially not the hothead she had heard about; and (2) she wanted ample time for the return on the zipline and complete her mission safely.

  As she approached her destination, she used binoculars to scan the leafy terrain of
the rough hillside. The ground colors blended well so that rocks, well-camouflaged by sticks, leaves, moss and ferns, lay hidden. The hollow rock had to be nearby. Everything else on this trek had been in place exactly where it was supposed to be. Whoever had laid out the course waypoints with landmarks had done well. Still, Abbi wondered how well she herself had done. She was so excited about getting close to the drop zone that she possibly had stepped off in the wrong direction when she unhooked from the zipline or when she speeded up, and either one could have thrown her off course.

  Abbi spun around looking for the hollow rock. Not seeing it, she again started to panic. She was too deep in the dense woods to even see the zipline now and was afraid of losing her bearings. She had used a GPS before but didn’t feel skilled enough with this one to avoid getting lost if she went off track, even with the automatic tracking. Remembering her mother’s admonition to trust her training, she finally relaxed and let her senses work for her. That’s when she spotted a glint of gray. A mound of old leaves under an oak tree about fifteen feet away hid the rock almost completely. Raking away leaves, she found her target.

  The imitation rock, lightweight and hollow as a gourd, lay waiting to receive the packet that contained a note and ransom money, the key pieces in Operation Shoe Drop.

  Abbi breathed a sigh of relief. Her pace count had been close. She bent over to retrieve the small package from her bra without exposing herself to any cameras or spotting scopes. She suspected eyes from both sides were watching, even though she was told the rules had changed. Quickly, she slipped the package, still slightly damp from her X-ray spray, into the hollow of the rock and replaced it under its cover of leaves, imagining every movement was under the scrutiny of someone’s watchful eye. A false move could get her killed.