Deadly Journey

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Deadly Journey Page 14

by Declan Conner


  ‘You sure?’

  ‘We can try, but first here’s what I need you to do. I need the times of the tides in the mornings. Also, I’m going to need to know where all the cameras are and what they can see.’

  ‘I can get an idea from the monitor screens in the camera room when I take the operator his morning coffee.’

  ‘Good. Don’t write anything down, just tell me and I’ll memorize everything. What about the guards’ clothing? Can you get hold of some that will fit me?’

  ‘We wash all their clothing here, so I can sneak some to you, I guess.’

  ‘Great, but don’t get the clothing yet. Wait until nearer the time.’ The sound of an aircraft engine spluttered outside. ‘Please, could you pull back the shutters and open the French doors?’

  It was 10:00 a.m. ‘Is it the crop duster coming in to land?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What about the tide?’

  She walked out onto the balcony and looked into the distance. ‘Tide’s in.’

  ‘Keep an eye out for the guys coming out of the maze.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘I’m also going to need to know the exact number of guards at the villa and the times and places they patrol in the mornings.’

  ‘When are you thinking of going?’

  ‘As soon as I’m fit. Are the guards preparing for the exchange at the entrance?’

  ‘Yeah, they’re in position.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Two. Wait, they’re heading for the maze.’ She turned and smiled before gazing back outside. ‘That’s it, they’re making the exchange.’

  ‘Are the ones coming out of the maze armed?’

  ‘Not that I can see.’

  Glancing at the clock on the news channel, I noted the time. Leandra stepped back inside.

  ‘How long do you think it will take before you’re fit to leave?’

  ‘Three, maybe four days. I need to start exercising now. I also need you to help me brush up on my Spanish, but first we need to check the times of the guards getting to the aircraft and the time they return.’

  ‘Sure, no problem. Incidentally, I overheard at the meeting that the Cobras have seen the film of your plea on YouTube.’

  ‘YouTube?’

  ‘Yeah, they were laughing. Apparently, north and south of the border, the authorities are putting the heat on them already and there’s talk of the Cobra cartel retaliating against Perez.’

  ‘How would they know?’

  ‘Informers, I would imagine. Perez has his own inside the Cobra’s camp.’

  The revelation that the authorities were chasing down the Cobra cartel annoyed me as much as the idea that El Presidente would be gloating. Still, it gave him a reason to keep me alive as part of his game plan.

  ‘What was the meeting about?’

  ‘Not sure. Every time we entered, they turned the white board around and stopped talking. I caught a glimpse, though. I think it was building plans.’

  I’d not anticipated them putting the film on social media. Now everybody and his brother-in-law would see my smirk at the end. I could only hope the FBI would remove it from public display.

  ‘They’re back,’ she said.

  It had taken them twenty-one minutes to deliver the drugs and return with more canvas bags, probably carrying money.

  ‘Come on, help me try and walk.’

  I managed to shuffle to the edge of the bed and drop my legs over the side. Leandra stooped and placed my arm over her shoulder. My other hand used the cart to lever some of my weight. Finally, I stood, but I couldn’t stretch to my full height. She ducked from under my arm and rested my other hand on the cart. Using the cart as a walking frame, I took one deliberate, painful step at a time, until I could walk no further.

  ‘Please, get me a chair.’

  Leandra dragged over a chair and helped me sit. The experience had me to believe that it would take a lifetime for me to be mobile again.

  ‘Kurt, I have to be going. I need to clear away the breakfast things for Perez and his guests. Do you want me to help you get back into bed?’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine, just pass me the remote, but leave the cart in case I feel like giving it a try on my own.’

  I attempted a smile to hide the grimace inside that I felt rising at the excruciating pain in my right calf. Leandra smiled back as she left the room.

  Physical condition aside, I could rightly feel excited at the prospect of someone working with me from the inside to plan my escape. Equally, it was a big responsibility to ensure none of it could come back on her after I was gone. Survival at my own expense was fine, but not to the detriment of someone else... especially if it could cost Leandra and her child their lives.

  Strange, I thought, how time passes so annoyingly slow when you really need it to pass quickly. However, when the allotted time arrives, the drudgery of waiting seems to pass into oblivion.

  Leandra returned and helped me get back onto the bed. She sat on the floor at the bottom of the bed with two minutes remaining until the broadcast. I couldn’t imagine why they would be broadcasting her plea. In the US, unless it was a woman or a child victim, or some other quirk, it wouldn’t be newsworthy. People expect federal law enforcement agents to accept danger. It’s what we’re paid for. The FBI must have pulled strings for some sort of message they wanted to get across to the kidnappers.

  ‘Following our report on the kidnapping of DEA agent Kurt Rawlings, we’re passing you over to our outside broadcast crew at El Paso’s FBI headquarters. Mrs Rawlings is to give a statement and plea for the return of her husband. Afterwards, we’ll be returning to our studio to discuss how this kidnapping relates to the recent release of terrorist prisoners, for the exchange of one of our captured soldiers, and a possible retreat on policy of not negotiating with terrorist factions. Jenny, can you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, I can hear you,’ she said, twiddling with her earpiece. Behind her was a throng of reporters and cameras. A table was set at stage height in front of the FBI logo. ‘We’re told that she will be out any moment.’ My stomach began to churn. ‘Yes, here she is now.’

  The newswoman moved out of the shot, to the flashing of cameras taking still pictures. Rob walked behind the table and stood with his back to the wall. Two men in suits walked in, guiding Mary. She was looking away from the flashing lights, walking with a stoop, her head bowed. Mary took her seat in the centre, still with her head bowed. The guys in suits sat on either side of her and Rob took a seat to her far left. His expression was as I had expected, sombre. I had to wonder if the FBI had coached Mary, because I had been expecting her to march in with her head held high.

  My heartbeat raced in my chest. Rob swung a microphone in his direction.

  ‘Please, no more photographs out of respect. Mary is going to make a statement now. She won’t be answering any questions, but afterwards, we will be staying behind to answer any questions. Thank you.’

  It was good to hear Rob’s voice. I just hoped the reporters would ask the questions I wanted answered.

  Mary didn’t cope well at all with her speech and my heart went out to her. Her sleepless nights and anguish was there for all to see.

  ‘... and I’m begging you, please, we want Kurt back. Please don’t harm him.’

  Mary broke down crying. The FBI agent to her left put his arm around her shoulder. Rob pushed his chair back and walked behind her. The flashing cameras were enough to bring on an epileptic fit for those susceptible, when belatedly, a warning caption appeared at the bottom of the screen. Rob held out his palm toward the hubbub, to cover her face. Helping her to her feet, her head still bowed, Rob escorted her out of the glare of the cameras and returned to take his seat.

  I’d not taken notice of the guy in the centre before he spoke. I immediately recognized him. We had a run-in on the Perez drug bust, when he tried to claim credit for himself and the FBI. The politics between our departments turned ugly and he’d turned it personal after they p
assed him over for a promotion. I can’t say I was pleased he was involved in the interview. From what I heard, Walters’s record of cutting corners had caused them to block his promotion. Walters blamed me anyway. He cleared his throat.

  ‘My name is FBI Special Agent Doug Walters. I’ll be heading the team investigating the kidnapping. FBI Special Agent Antonio Garcia, here on my right, will be in charge of our negotiating team once we receive further instructions from the kidnappers. We’ll be working closely with Roberto Lopez, here on my left. Roberto is head of the South American Intelligent Division of the DEA. Please, if you could channel the questions through me.’

  Uproar ensued, with a plethora of questions amongst the mêlée created by the news people. My head sank into the pillow. It was hard to take in that Rob had accepted the promotion I had turned down. Then it made sense. It would give him hands-on authority to help find me and with a virtual army at his disposal.

  Walters pointed to someone in the crowd. ‘Yes, your question?’

  ‘We understand that when asked about the kidnapping, the State Department spokesperson stated that the government would not open negotiations with terrorists and that releasing the soldier in exchange for prisoners from Guantanamo in a prisoner of war exchange had no influence on standard Government policy. With the film of agent Rawlings making the rounds of social media, it is apparent that he has in fact, been kidnapped by a political wing of the Cobra cartel. Does this mean you won’t be negotiating with them?’

  Walters fired back. ‘Not at all. We wouldn’t have a negotiator on standby if we were not thinking of negotiating. The Cobra Freedom Front is not a recognized terrorist organization.’

  ‘Next question.’ Walters’s eyes danced around the crowd and he pointed. ‘You with the bow tie.’

  ‘From our own investigation we understand that Mr Lopez was working with the agent at the time of his kidnap. Could Mr Lopez give an account of that night and have they unearthed any clues during their investigation?’

  Rob cleared his throat, stretched out his arms showing his cufflinks, bent his arm and glanced at his wristwatch. He rolled his eyes to look at the ceiling. I’d never seen him look so nervous.

  ‘Mr Lopez?’ Walters held his hand pointing in Rob’s direction.

  Damn if I didn’t think Rob had given me a sign he was on my kidnappers’ trail, as he pushed his sleeve back into place. If only I’d have been closer to the screen. It was Rob looking at the watch that was hopefully a clue.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t give any further information regarding these events and our ongoing investigation. Rest assured that the DEA will be working around the clock together with our FBI colleagues to ensure the safe return of Kurt. Sorry... Agent Rawlings.’

  Bow Tie fired back.

  ‘The you tube film that’s gone viral. Can you give us your opinion of the significance of Agent Rawlings smirking at the end of his plea?’

  Walters put his hands over Rob’s microphone.

  ‘Gentlemen, please. You have to understand the nature of the stress in such circumstances and the duress Mr Rawlings must have been under when making the film. Clearly, in our opinion, it was a nervous tic... nothing more.’ Walters shuffled his papers and then ran his finger inside his shirt collar. ‘Sorry, but we have no further time for any more questions. We’ll be issuing a press release which you can collect as you leave.’

  The broadcast returned to the newsroom. I couldn’t work out if the broadcast was newsworthy because of arguments over negotiating with terrorists, or intrigue as to me smirking at the end of the film. I thought I’d have had some sort of breakdown, but the whole thing left me numb and staring blankly at the screen. Why, I couldn’t put a finger on, save a sense of relief they’d skilfully dodged the State Department’s policy. Seeing Mary stressed out and emotional had left a cloud rather than a positive feeling. Then, thinking about it, she could hardly have given my kidnappers the barbed side of her tongue. I guess it was the spectacle of seeing my wife distraught which left me devoid of feeling. Seeing Mary upset left me more determined than ever to get out of there. There were things I needed to put right in our marriage when I returned home.

  Leandra rose from the floor. ‘She’s beautiful. The photograph doesn’t do her justice apart from the smile.’

  Looking straight through her, the image of the broadcast replayed in my mind. ‘Yeah... yeah, she is.’ The dream I’d had edged its way into my thinking. ‘Leandra, you remember Maria giving me that facemask treatment?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Is that a normal face pack in Mexico?’

  ‘No, you usually wash them off.’

  ‘What do you know about Maria?’

  ‘Not much. Her husband works for Perez and she said that she works for a television studio.’

  ‘What, in the makeup department?’

  ‘Maria said she hadn’t done it in a long time. She works in the props department.’

  Chapter 25

  A Cheat’s Game of Chess

  Eleven days in captivity and today was hopefully my last. The decision made, plans committed to memory, tomorrow would be the day. Excitement, anticipation, nerves, butterflies, angst and fear, I doubt any of those words adequately describe the mix of emotions pounding at my body and brain cells, but jumbled together; it was all of those and more. I’d done all the push-ups and squats I needed to get back into shape. Leandra had provided all the schedules and positions of the guards. All I needed was to walk around the grounds for her to physically point out the cameras’ blind spots. Then it was simply a question of her delivering the guard uniform, hidden in clean sheets, and I was good to go. The rest was in the hands of God. One mistake, or one turn of the wrong card, and I’d be dead.

  One thing I did know, I needed to change things when I got back home. They say that when you have a near-death experience, it makes you question where you’re at in life. With some certainty, I could now testify to that phenomenon. My time in captivity had made me search the depths of my mind, especially since I’d seen Mary and Rob on television.

  Yes, I loved, Mary, but those were words of sentiment that comes from a long marriage. There had to be more to life than bed and work. We were like the proverbial passing ships in the night, what with my unpredictable hours at work and Mary’s tireless charity work. The kids were growing up with an endless stream of babysitters and I was missing those special times so important to them. It must have been three years since I’d seen either of them in a school play, or Christmas nativity. Work came first. I had deluded myself that as breadwinner, I was putting the family first, but at what cost? The loss of that spark when we had first married and set up home was a high price to pay. I desperately wanted that back. Even the photograph of them on my nightstand had taken on a different significance – why? – because I wasn’t in it. Hell, I hadn’t even taken the picture.

  In a way, I was annoyed with Rob for taking that promotion, especially when he and Mary had talked me out of the position he had accepted. ‘You’ll be a spare part. Like some retiree suddenly finding time on their hands,’ he had said, and Mary agreed. His motives might have been right for taking the job, but if there was no other opportunity for regular hours, I would have to think seriously about a career change. In fact, there was no thinking about it. I would have to change direction. I wasn’t sure how Mary would feel about giving up her charity work, but for once, my will would have to prevail. I thought back to when I was first kidnapped and trying to remember the last time I told her that I loved her and seen it returned in her eyes. Truth was, I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even remember the last time she told me that she loved me, and meant it. Things hadn’t been right between us for at least two years. I had just hoped it would pass. It’s not as though I could have shared my problems with Rob. He was too close to both of us. It’s not that I didn’t try talking. I tried talking to Mary. She just said we were fine. Rob, he’d just throw up his hands in despair whenever I approached the subject. ‘For God
’s sake, just get divorced if you’re so unhappy,’ he’d said, the very last time I ever tried confiding.

  The bedroom door handle twitched.

  ‘What happened to the squeaky wheel?’ I asked Leandra as she entered.

  ‘Cooking oil. Worked great.’

  We both laughed as she parked the cart next to me. The guard didn’t even bother to enter.

  ‘Hmm, smells good,’ I said as she poured a coffee.

  ‘Ah, you noticed my perfume?’

  I smiled, not wanting to deflate her ego by telling her I was referring to the coffee.

  ‘After breakfast, Perez wants you to join him in the dining room.’ She held her features in a solemn mask.

  ‘Why?’

  Her mask cracked into a smile. ‘Don’t look so worried. He wants you to play chess with him.’

  ‘Don’t do that to me. You had me in a panic.’

  ‘Sorry, just teasing. Don’t be so serious.’

  At times, I thought she was older than her years, but on other occasions, she could act like the teenager I had first encountered. It was an endearing trait, but on this occasion, I could have done with the older version. Still, that aside, she made me smile.

  As I tucked into my breakfast, we swapped anecdotes about our childhood, although her tales from childhood on the farm were far more interesting. Sometimes I hated my directness, but the subject brought a question to mind.

  ‘Talking about farms – and sorry to bring this up – can you describe where they took you to have the baby?’

  ‘Damn you, do I have to?’

  I felt bad at having broken the banter. ‘Listen, if I get out of here, I’m going to help you all I can with the authorities to get your child back and get you out of here. So anything you can tell me – anything, however insignificant.’

  Leandra took hold of my hand. ‘You’re a good man and I trust you not to do anything foolish to put our lives at risk. But really, I don’t know where they took me.’

  I placed my other hand over hers. ‘Think. Try and describe the buildings?’

 

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