Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo

by Ronda Pauley

  Louise started texting.

  “Little lady, you’ve done all you can do for others, and now it’s time to take care of you,” Big Sam said when he looked up. “Has your father zinged you again?”

  “No, no zing,” she said and grinned awkwardly.

  “That would indicate he’s on the mend, wouldn’t it? Allow me to go see him while you get an X-ray,” he said. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  After Abbi’s X-ray, it was clear that she had a broken bone in her right leg near the ankle and would need a release form signed. Abbi texted the information to Big Sam and Louise that it would take a few minutes to get a soft cast for her break and then she’d be out.

  When Abbi hobbled out to the lobby with a soft cast and a walker, Big Sam was standing there, waiting to see her.

  “Now you LOOK like you’ve done something!” Big Sam said. He helped her out to the SUV where Scott waited at the curb. “Take us to Federal Triangle, Scott. But first, just one more stop if you don’t mind. I’d like to pick up a few things at a department store. Louise, I believe you also had some shopping you wanted to do.”

  They stopped at a mall just outside the beltway.

  “Changed my mind. I’m fine here,” Louise said and moved up to the front seat when Big Sam got out. “I’ll just wait.”

  “Abbi, would you care to shop?”

  Abbi thanked Big Sam but wanted to sleep and rest her foot. She sprawled out in the back of the SUV and soon fell asleep, aided by the pain pill she was given and lulled even further into deep sleep by Louise’s chatter and giggles.

  Later, Abbi became only slightly aware of Scott as he resumed his role as tour guide and began pointing out places of interest again.

  Her dreams drifted in and out of reality, fuzzy. Thoughts of her mother colored the tapestry of her dream intermittently, changing its texture. Gradually the tapestry changed color and became a dark, blurry swirl as if it had been picked up in a tornado. In a fretful sleep, Abbi pictured her mother caught in the awful tapestry of her nightmare, trapped with no way out.

  SIXTY-THREE

  When Abbi awoke, she was cramped in the back seat, sweating and fretful, hot and dizzy. She remembered the awful dream and wondered if it might be another premonition in a series of dreadful forewarnings.

  They were arriving at the International Spy Museum. The walk up the narrow stairs to headquarters by way of the back entrance was unfamiliar to Abbi’s fatigued mind besides being difficult to maneuver with her cast and the walker. Big Sam helped to steady her and lift her up the steps.

  Lowell stood minding the door as Gate Keeper at Operation Missing Shoe headquarters. Abbi smiled but felt incredibly tired.

  “Miss Kowalski, glad to see you accomplished your drop,” Lowell said stiffly, but his smile said so much more. Although he was nicely dressed in khakis, blue shirt and tie, Abbi noticed a hint of mud on his shoes. “Too bad about your broken leg.”

  “Yeah,” Abbi said. Her head suddenly started to clear. “Any word yet? Like the return of the missing shoe?”

  “Not yet, but I can tell you we’ve been holding some food for you. We’ve all been hoping to see you,” Lowell said.

  Food sounded good but Abbi wanted to clean up first. As grubby as she felt, Abbi poked her head into headquarters to say hello to the elite group that had gathered, those who made up the negotiations team and the analysts who studied the data, all working for her mother’s release.

  Everyone talked at once. Abbi’s head couldn’t take it all in. She heard congratulations, questions about how she injured her leg, and offers of food and drink.

  She thanked everyone and assured them her leg was just a hairline fracture from a fall, nothing too serious.

  “Could I have a moment to clean up? Then I’ll be over. Save some food for me and I’ll eat like a horse! Louise, you go ahead.”

  Getting into the tub and, at the same time, keeping her cast dry was tricky. After a quick but soothing bath, Abbi was happy to see that if she ripped out the lower leg seam, she could still put on her sweats. She soon joined the others in headquarters to grab a bite to eat.

  When Big Sam met her at the door, he let her know privately that she and Louise were getting very special treatment. Protocol forbade children of staff members to be present, he reminded her. Most of the staffers had not known Abbi’s relationship to Miss Shoe. Those who did had been guarding the secret, but the secret had leaked out after Calista’s brutal attack. Analysts suspected Calista had been hired by NM2 to do harm to Abbi in retaliation for her mother’s lack of cooperation.

  Lowell followed Abbi into the room.

  “You’ll be glad to know that Calista is still at the police station. She’s standing by her statement that she thought you were cute, Abbi, and that you responded in a very aggressive way when she tried to kiss you,” Lowell said. He started laughing.

  When others wanted to know what Lowell was laughing at, he said, “According to Calista, she grabbed the knife from Abbi because she was trying to protect herself from Abbi’s terrifying brutality. And, of course, she maintains that it was Abbi’s knife.”

  The analysts, especially, laughed. Of course, none of that was true and could be proven by the video and sound recordings made at the time as well as eye witnesses—those who observed by way the two-way mirror—and Louise, who saw almost everything first-hand.

  “If Calista knew the evidence against her,” Big Sam said, “she would sing a different song. In the meantime, she’s being held without the benefit of making any outside calls.”

  Abbi felt deeply grateful.

  “Did you notice Calista’s teardrop?” she asked.

  “Yes, and we know why she has it. At this point, we have enough documentation to prove not only this incident but also the other case against her,” he said. “Her age at the time might be an issue, but given the severity of the crime, and her recent career path, I doubt it.”

  The furniture of the temporary headquarters had changed slightly since the night before. More desks and monitors were installed as well as a collection of various communication devices.

  Before Abbi ate, she was directed to an isolated chair so that her leg would be safely out of the way. She was placed near a monitor to watch. Big Sam brought her some food and sat near her at a phone. Lowell had retreated to a corner, smiling but particularly quiet while he listened in on the negotiations.

  Three more people arrived. Abbi didn’t know them but they appeared to be key players in negotiations. She couldn’t tell by their tone how things were going. She stayed in character as Miss Kowalski. These people didn’t seem to attach any meaning to her name and Abbi realized they were being led to believe that she was a contracted stuntwoman. Abbi looked around. Mr. Pelletier was no longer in the room.

  During a quiet period in the negotiations, Big Sam looked at Abbi and said, “You amaze me. Your willingness to dig for the information and get out and do the work is rare. I want you to know, Miss Kowalski, that following you has led me on a joy ride I will never forget!”

  “It’s been quite a ride!” Abbi agreed. She looked at him and tried to grin, but something deep and dark gnawed at her insides. Negotiations had become much too quiet.

  “Sam, ask them what’s holding up Mom’s release,” Abbi pleaded

  Big Sam came back to Abbi to report that they wanted Nuestra Madre to admit responsibility for the attempted bombings and they had refused.

  “What?! They said Nuestra Madre? Those are the wrong people! I thought we’d covered that ground. Of course they refused. This isn’t NM. There’s no way. It’s not what they do!” Abbi said, angry and talking fast. This misconception was costing time and might prove deadly.

  Big Sam said, “Hold everything!”

  “Listen and please get this across to these negotiators, Sam. According to Miss Shoe’s report, Nuestra Madre is all about human rights and they try to work through a popular movement with the people who are being down-trodden by a non-cari
ng government. They work for people who don’t have their basic needs. Not everything they do is legal, but they would never bomb The House of the Americas. They share similar goals, for Heaven’s sake! They see the OAS as a way to accomplish the same means, although it’s a slower diplomatic approach as opposed to their peaceful revolution. And, NM doesn’t use suicide bombers. They need all the workers they can get. That’s why they resort to some ruthless ways of getting bringing in at-risk kids! In my opinion, based on Mom’s research, NM would not be out to destroy the Organization of American States.”

  “Well, no wonder talks broke down. I’ll see what I can do,” Big Sam said. “What about NM2?”

  “Find out if these negotiators know ANYTHING about NM2! I feel like we’re starting over. Wait. Maybe I’d better do it.”

  “At the risk of repeating everything, let’s get them up to speed,” Big Sam said. “These new people seem to have a huge misunderstanding.” He motioned for the negotiators to come to Abbi.

  Feeling like she was constantly on auto-rewind, Abbi explained the differences to the negotiators, using vegetables on her plate to show the breaking away of NM2.

  “Please listen. I’m sitting here with a plate of raw vegetables. They were all NM for a little while. Now imagine these carrots. They’re young and hot-headed. They want more money. They think their way is better than the old way, so they’re getting into all sorts of things that don’t have anything to do with a peaceful human rights movement but everything to do with making money fast. They started getting in trouble and left NM. They don’t work for NM anymore, and they have started their own horrible but wealthy gangs in cities all over the United States and other places. They do anything for money. Anything. They are NM2.”

  Several people gathered around Abbi as she spoke on the phone and manipulated raw vegetables on her plate.

  That visual seemed to do it. Within the hour, apologies were made and negotiations picked back up. For awhile it seemed that mix-ups were a thing of the past and that progress was being made. It should be a simple matter to get her mother released. Abbi waited and watched. She kept hoping her mother would simply walk through the door.

  Although Abbi was tired from a huge day and little sleep the night before, she didn’t want to miss a thing. She looked at Louise who was oblivious to all that had happened in the past two hours. Abbi had to laugh. It looked like Louise was planning her own undercover work. Mademoiselle Soufflé was intent on texting in a corner of the room.

  The tall man was curious about Calista’s involvement with NM2, since nothing in Miss Shoe’s report mentioned her. He came over to ask Abbi and Big Sam about her.

  “Calista had hopes of making it to the top of NM2. She told me she thought doing an act of revenge for NM2 would seal the deal,” Abbi said. “As if they would boost her right up the career ladder! What was she thinking?!”

  Lowell looked up from his monitor.

  “That girl definitely has an entrepreneurial spirit,” he said. “Did you know Calista had both a modeling business and a personal escort service? Can you make it into NM2 leadership simply by owning your own business?”

  “It’s much more sinister than that, Lowell,” Big Sam said. “We believe Calista was scouting college campuses for girls who couldn’t make ends meet. She put some of them to work for her. Others, she sold to NM2. Once Calista got involved with NM2, she knew that she had to kill or be killed.”

  “Why?” Lowell asked.

  “Because they made a deal with her, and because you can’t just leave NM2. That was part of the problem with Miss Shoe. NM2 found out that Miss Shoe had infiltrated them, posing as an NM2 member from another area, and was not what she appeared to be. That’s why they sent Calista to get Abbi, but as you see Abbi’s still very much alive. And that’s why they’re still holding Miss Shoe. They’re waiting for word that Abbi is dead. Calista can’t call them and tell them otherwise.”

  Abbi was stunned, absolutely silent. It seemed that everyone was silent now, their eyes on her.

  All of a sudden she realized why talks of a release had come to a standstill. They had their money. That’s not all they wanted.

  “Someone call them and tell them I’m dead!”

  “It would have to be Calista.”

  “Get my mother out! You know exactly where she is. Just get her out of there!” Abbi yelled.

  “That’s our next step,” Big Sam said.

  SIXTY-FOUR

  That night Abbi slept alone in the roll-out bed to prop her leg up.

  The next day was a day of rest for her. When she went over to headquarters, wearing her torn sweat pants, and saw that most of the negotiators were gone. Louise was texting. Lowell was there, looking ashamed.

  “How are things?” she asked.

  Some doughnuts and juice were on the table. She helped herself. Lowell came over to talk.

  “Slow. I feel stupid. I made some big mistakes in judgment.”

  “We all made mistakes, Lowell. Being here—getting to help out, doing the drop, seeing my dad—they’ve made me stronger, in spite of the mistakes I made. And you taught me some moves that even Calista didn’t know. You are probably responsible for saving my life!”

  Abbi looked at Lowell, smiled, and then continued, “The work has been exciting, actually exhilarating!”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad at you anymore than I’m mad at my own father. I understand. ”

  Lowell gave her a long hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “You’re adorable!” he said. He left her and walked over to Big Sam who was on the phone again.

  Abbi and Louise decided to take in the spy museum again to see some displays they hadn’t seen before. Actual outfits, photos, news reports and props of some famous spies filled glass cases. Famous people, known for the contributions they had made in other lines of work, sometimes filled the role of spy in service to their country. Abbi was amazed at the early coding devices and how painstakingly difficult it must have been to break codes, and she gained a greater respect for the dangerous work of espionage.

  Louise and Abbi decided to get out without notifying anyone, eat at a nearby deli, and enjoy some of the hustle and bustle of the city. No one needed them at headquarters but, if Big Sam wanted them, they were on a short leash and he had their number.

  Abbi listened intently as Louise talked about Scott, who seemed, the way Louise told it, as taken in by Louise as she was of him. Although Abbi wanted to mention Lowell and how she felt around him, that was just weird with Louise being her best friend. Besides, Abbi had mixed feelings about Lowell. Maybe later on, they could double date. A pleasant thought, but she kept it to herself. So far, Abbi wasn’t sure if Lowell really liked her or if he was just being polite. For that matter, did she really, deep down, like him much? If finding out about Calista had been a shock to him, he should try to imagine what it was like for her. Lowell didn’t really apologize for putting Abbi’s life on the line. He was too busy licking his own wounds.

  Abbi and Louise returned to the museum’s gift shop, very much aware of Shoe Clerk’s quiet presence. She smiled at him, aware that the powers-that-be must still be concerned about her safety.

  A little gadget for coding and decoding caught Abbi’s eye. She bought two, one for her and one for Lowell. This would add a new level to texting if he was into it. If not, maybe he’d hand it off to his sister. Either way, she would learn more about him. They stayed at the gift shop until closing time, trying to learn about all the gadgets.

  Louise was good about helping Abbi get through passages. They carefully returned to Missing Shoe Headquarters to find people asleep at the monitors. Things were definitely quiet. Some people rested at their monitors with their heads on their arms, trying to catch some rest. These people had been up all night.

  Big Sam, Lowell, Scott and Mr. Pelletier were no longer there.

  One of the negotiators gave Abbi two thumbs up and told her to stay close.

/>   Abbi walked down a hallway past the restroom and noticed a spare room with some cots crammed together, barely room to walk between them, with stacks of haphazardly-placed blankets. Someone had started packing things up. That looked promising. Making her way to one of the cots in the corner, she quickly dozed off, not caring who had slept there before her.

  When she woke up, she heard the abrupt sound of a processional. Lowell’s trumpet blared loudly, reminding Abbi of the crowning of the homecoming queen at her high school last year. But today, this meant something entirely different. Someone had an important announcement.

  Abbi darted off the cot and hobbled as quickly as she could to the main room of Missing Shoe headquarters. The door flew open and, with trumpet in hand, Lowell said, “Ta-da! Presenting, live and in person, the no-longer-missing Miss Shoe!”

  SIXTY-FIVE

  Meanwhile, Tina had gained strength after her fever broke. She stayed in bed all day, doing exactly as the nurses said, taking her medicine, and getting her vitals checked. All day she had wondered how well Miss Sobori passed for Tina, whether that sting had been successful.

  The day went by so slowly. First, nurses said Tina might be well enough to be released. Her father was on stand-by. He had stayed nearby all day.

  When her father finally went out to grab a bite to eat, some people came who said they were sent by Mrs. Hightower. They introduced themselves as volunteers for a charitable service provider and said their purpose for coming to see her was basically to see to Tina’s needs. The two women were friendly and sensitive to Tina’s predicament. They used carefully chosen words and Tina felt at ease with them. She had the feeling one of them had been trafficked herself and had a deeper understanding of what Tina had gone through.

  Tina showed them pictures of how she had changed her looks, and they agreed that this was a good step toward recovery. They gave Tina some other tips, such as developing a new hobby and finding friends who shared her interests. Then gradually, they suggested, she would get a network of support with people she felt she could trust.