Natalie pushed against the wooden door of the shack with her shoulder. She’d managed to shimmy her legs through her arms so her hands were in front of her, but she couldn’t loosen the rope. She blew out a sharp sigh and banged again on the door. The tin roof rumbled, but the structure was sturdier than it appeared.
She moved to the middle of the darkened room and turned slowly in a full circle. There had to be away out. Growing up, she’d watched enough episodes of MacGyver to know all she needed was a Swiss army knife and duct tape to escape from any situation. Thanks to her captor, she didn’t have either. Her Bible lay beside a can of tuna fish, a couple of power bars, two candles, and a roll of toilet paper. None of them exactly suitable items for an escape. And anything that might help—like her pocketknife and cell phone—had been confiscated.
She picked up her backpack and shook it upside down. A box of matches tumbled to the ground. She picked it up and fingered the box. With her hands tied together, lighting a match would be awkward at best. She shoved them into the front pocket of her dress and continued studying the room. Beyond a few pots and pans piled up in the corner and some bags of cornmeal to make goza, the room was empty.
She rolled her head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in her neck, then moved past the rickety table to study the walls. Sunlight pierced through narrow cracks. If she could find a loose board or a crack big enough to see through, she might be able to signal someone.
Halfway around the room she found a hole at eye level. Squinting into the morning sun, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the change of light.
From her limited view, the walled compound appeared empty. A rusty car sat next to the cement wall surrounding the premises. A dog slept in the shade of a mango tree, his tail swatting at the flies buzzing around him. Nothing else indicated where she was or gave her a sign of another way out.
At the far end of the compound she spied her guard. He sat on a tree stump with a gun in his hand.
Her shoulders dropped in frustration. When she’d asked Chad why he’d chosen to come to the RD, she never imagined that their choices might end up costing them their lives. She had no desire to play the role of a martyr. The risks of living in this country had always been evident, but she’d expected a bit of common sense and a lot of prayer to keep her alive.
Maneuvering around a large bag of cornmeal, she pressed against the wall with her hands. A splinter dug into her finger, drawing a drop of blood. Beneath a narrow beam of light from a crack in the wall, she managed to pull it out. She sucked her finger, then continued her search.
Christ’s love was a compelling factor that had brought her here. A chance to make a difference in the lives of the people here. Comprehending God’s love for those who were behind all this wasn’t easy. She glanced back at her Bible. Why had Jesus come to a messed-up world full of pain and suffering? In moments like this, nothing made sense.
Natalie continued moving around the square room, pushing on the boards one at a time. She’d talked to Rachel about forgiveness, but before today, she’d never had to forgive anyone for anything except a few careless drivers and a teacher in eighth grade who publicly accused her of cheating on her midterm. What about now, though? She’d been down the Congo and was now being held for ransom. Forgiveness wasn’t going to be easy.
The dog barked. The door hinges creaked. Natalie spun around as light flooded the room.
Her captor held up the phone. “You’d better pray your friend answers.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
The man ignored her question
“You said they were going to pay you two thousand dollars. I can get you ten thousand.” The words were out before she had a chance to weigh the consequences. “You let me go and I promise I will get the money to you.”
The man hesitated. She knew she’d managed to get his attention, but she didn’t miss the suspicion in his eyes.
She took the phone from him. “All you have to do is let me walk out. No one will know what happened and no one will blame you.”
He shook his head. “If I let you go, they’ll kill me.”
“You don’t know that.”
Natalie eyed the door but knew that any attempts of escape at this point would only get her hurt … or worse. The only way out at the moment was for him to choose to let her walk out.
“Ten thousand dollars wired to whatever account you want.” She pressed her lips together. She had five thousand in savings and knew her parents wouldn’t hesitate paying the other half to save her life. “Ten thousand dollars.”
“You expect me to trust you?” He took a step back. “Call your friend. I want those photos.”
Her fingers trembled as she searched the menu for Chad’s number, then punched Call. Her captor stood over her, waiting for the call to connect. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you guarding me? Why this place?”
Four rings and counting.
“I didn’t choose you or this place. I should be back at the camp where the army is mobilizing for action, not babysitting some spoiled American who obviously stuck her nose into someone else’s business.”
The call switched to voice mail, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I’ve got another number I can try.”
He reached for the phone, but she pulled her arm back. “I want to find those photos as much as you do. Let me try.”
God, you’ve got to let this work.
She called the second number.
He answered on the first ring. Natalie blew out a sharp breath of relief. “Chad?”
There was a momentary pause on the line. “This is Nick Gilbert. Who is this? Natalie?”
“Chad.” Natalie forced a smile. “Where are you?”
There was a second pause. Come on, come on … He had to go along with her. It was her only chance.
“I was on my way to find you.”
“I need the photos,” she told him.
“I can try. Are you in trouble?”
“Yes. I need you to bring them …” She turned back to her captor. “Where do you want them?”
He glanced at his watch. “Twelve o’clock, same place.”
Natalie nodded. “Bring the photos to the Hotel Oasis by noon.”
He grabbed the phone from her. “Those photos had better stay with you … or the girl is dead.”