Dawn was on its way when Alano roused his men to accompany him to the cell. He kept his voice low. “No gambling, you hear me? We stick to the plan of how to get them into the van. I don’t want any of you to give them a chance to run or fight. The boss wants the package intact.”
“We got that the first time,” Enrique replied, playing his tongue over his lips. “Do you take us to be stupid?”
“No, but careless, sometimes.”
“Well, if it’s so damn important—why not be careful and tranq him again?” Sandro, a young wiry guy from Lima, who had joined Lucio’s company a few months earlier, lifted his hands. “We rush in and press the needle in his neck. Worked the first time.”
“You don’t know anything,” Alano hissed. “The side effects are just... unpredictable. It took him hours to wake up again. I’ll only do that if it’s unavoidable. Understand that?” Alano glanced along his company. All of them believed it was superfluous to take six men for two lousy prisoners, and one of them a woman. Yet Alano was responsible for their wellbeing and the transport. He sweated remembering Lucio’s words. Though the kidnapping had been a success, keeping the prisoners was a different matter. He had never before heard such urgency in Lucio’s voice. No matter why the couple was important, Alano swore it wouldn’t be his fault if they escaped.
They reached the door. “Weapons ready?” They nodded in unison, and he turned the key to peer inside the cell. For a moment his heart stopped when he didn’t see them, but they had huddled in the rearmost corner under the blankets, deep in the shadow. With the flashlight working he exhaled, and Enrique behind him chuckled. “Get up!”
“You come with half a platoon?”
The dark growl was worth jerking back. Alano got a grip before he embarrassed himself too much. He made a step into the cell. “If you don’t wanna be drugged again, get up!”
“What for?”
The blanket stirred and the woman—Jazmin—slowly disentangled, looking wary. Alano pointed his submachine gun at her. “Up with you, or we’ll make ya!”
“Down with the gun!” The prisoner was in front of her in a fluid motion. “Point at her one more time and I’ll shove the barrel down your throat!”
Involuntarily, Alano made a step back and to the side to leave room for his companions. Though he had seen Ethan shoot and fight the day before, his aggressive stance face-to-face made a distinct impression. Alano swallowed his nervousness. The hiccup was back instantly.
Enrique thrust two plastic bands at the prisoner. “Hands behind your back! Your woman shall tie you up!”
“What’s this about?” Ethan asked, ignoring the shackles. “What’re you up to?”
“Do it!” Alano’s voice carried. “I can shoot you and still deliver you!”
“Deliver us? To whom?”
Enrique rushed the cell. “Damn you! Shut up and do what he says!”
Alano opened his mouth to call him back, but it was already too late. Ethan had his right hand on the barrel, pulled it toward the opposite wall and punched Enrique’s temple with his left. Enrique’s head flew to the side, and Alano saw the white in his eyes right before he went down, numbed. Jorge took his place, rifle butt forward to hit the tall man’s head, but the prisoner evaded smoothly, deflected the muzzle beyond his body and jabbed Jorge’s broad chin forcefully without ever leaving the position of protecting his wife. Alano leveled and fired a single rubber bullet at Ethan’s chest, driving him backward. The report was unusually loud in the small room, causing a ruckus among the guards outside. Lucio’s men came running to see what had happened. The prisoner sat on the mattress, grimacing and groaning with pain.
The woman cried out in shock, kneeling beside him. “Don’t shoot!”
“You tie him up, or he’ll catch another bullet!” Alano shouted, ready to fire again. He was sweating badly. “And then I’ll have him sedated again. Is that what you want?” He was furious to see his mission going down the drain so quickly. Lucio’s warnings had been extensive, and still, here he was, almost failing on the first step. He didn’t want to think about consequences if he had harmed the couple more than necessary. He forced the hiccup down to keep his voice steady. “Tie him up!”
Four guards entered the room, asking if the others needed assistance. Alano sent them out.
The woman looked at her husband, who pressed a hand on his chest where the bullet had struck. He was panting heavily, head lowered, obviously coping with pain. Alano thought she would start crying, but instead she appeared to question him what to do next. He nodded curtly, and only then did she pick up the plastic strip. Alano stayed out of reach, heart beating in his throat. Enrique got up slowly, cursing like a madman, and Alano stepped aside to keep the gun leveled at the couple again. Jorge wasn’t any better off. Coughing badly, he had retreated behind the remaining three men, who apparently didn’t think their presence was superfluous anymore. All of them had their guns at the ready, irritated, and nervous.
Slowly, Jazmin pulled the plastic strip around her husband’s crossed wrists. He flinched and hung his head, holding still.
“Use the other strip across the first one and pull it tight!”
“What?” She gaped at Alano. “That’s totally unnecessary and will—”
“You heard me!” He leveled the gun once more, ready to shoot if her action took too long.
“Do it,” Ethan said quietly, much too composed for Alano’s taste.
She picked up the second strip, flinching.
“They’re afraid I could tear one apart.” He closed his eyes for a moment, coughing, fighting the pain.
Alano hated to be belittled. He was close to pulling the trigger once again when the woman did as ordered. Jorge pulled the man out of the cell and pushed him into the hands of the others waiting before he turned to tie the woman’s hands behind her back, too. She shed him a hateful glance, but didn’t say a word.
Alano’s tension slowly abated. “Let’s move out!” He lowered the gun and pushed her in front of him.
Outside the cell, Sandro tried to fit a black hood over the prisoner’s head and found himself in a fight. A forceful kick against his knee sent Sandro crashing against the wall. He looked flabbergasted before the pain set in. Ethan turned around to aim for Piero directly behind him, but the young mestizo evaded on time.
“I don’t believe it!” Alano muttered under his breath and shoved Jazmin into another man’s custody before he slammed the butt of his gun in the hollow of the prisoner’s knee and brought him down. Ethan cried out. Behind Alano, Jazmin tried to break free. Sandro quickly pulled the hood over the prisoner’s head and pulled the string in it tight. Breathing hard, he pushed him through the room and into the waiting van. Two more men were needed when the prisoner struggled with all he had, kicking and turning under the grip of his captors.
“Tie his feet, damn it!” Alano wiped his sweaty brow, watching Ethan in stunned disbelief. To wrestle an anaconda appeared an easier task than handling a prisoner he wasn’t allowed to hurt. He watched Sandro and his friend struggle without success until Enrique banged his fist against the man’s genitals. When the prisoner cried out, Sandro had the rope in a sling around his ankles and pulled it tight. Sweating, Sandro sat back and nodded his gratitude, finally able to relieve his painful knee.
“My pleasure.” Enrique grinned and sat across Ethan’s outstretched legs to keep him from sitting up. Ethan made sounds in his throat, still fighting his captors. “He shot me yesterday. It’s just revenge.”
“From what I heard, you were lucky he didn’t shoot you all to pieces.”
“Yeah, the windshield kept off a lot, and we ducked on time.” Enrique banged his elbow against Ethan’s side. “He’s just getting what he deserves.”
Alano watched Jazmin being brought over—also hooded—and placed beside her husband before the doors closed. He hoped with all his heart that someone else would take over responsibility at the next camp.
* * * *
Ryan waited impatiently for Vancho to return from his reconnaissance inside the embassy. Since he had no authority and—to his chagrin—nothing to do, he was walking in circles and drinking too much coffee in Vancho’s office.
“I got the info you wanted,” the Peruvian officer announced upon his return.
Ryan put down the mug. “From your look, the news is good?”
“You win today’s prize.” Vancho looked into the empty mug. “A coffee machine, maybe? And coffee supply for a year? Just for you? You’re getting the hang of that, I see.”
“Show me.”
“Okay, here’s the list of gray Ford E-series wagons registered in Lima. Just four. None with the letter and number Ruben mentioned, but that doesn’t matter. I’d have been surprised if the kidnappers had used real license plates on a getaway car. We’ll check them in the next hour. And my unwilling, very grumpy, good-for-nothing CIA employee upstairs told me Raoul Acosta hasn’t been reported to be on the run. I know you’d have loved to hear him being killed in a revolt or something like that, but according to the latest counting and phone call with the director of the high security prison Acosta is still where he should be.” Vancho put down the papers and helped himself to a cup of coffee, raising it toward Ryan. “What say you?”
“I’m relieved.” Ryan nodded. “Thanks, Vancho, that was badly necessary to calm my nerves. Honestly, I’ve seen ghosts of that bastard everywhere. Can’t imagine how Ethan and Jazmin felt about him—always seeing him and being unable to kill him.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen pictures of the... dungeon where Acosta kept Ethan during that time.” He flinched and took a deep breath. “Honestly, I’d never thought of seeing anything so... terrifying.”
“Terrifying?” Vancho frowned. “I don’t think you use the word lightly.”
Ryan exhaled, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. There were cells, cages, racks, rings in the floor and at the walls, examination tables with shackles. Lots of shackles. Whips, paddles, crops—a whole arsenal of punishment instruments. If you’d look at them you’d think they were taken from some historical drama, playing in England in the Middle Ages.” He forced a laugh. “You’d expect a dungeon master in leather, smeared with dirt, marching through it with a cat-o-nine in one hand and a blazing torch in the other.”
“Acosta is... what? A gambler? A bondage fanatic? A schizophrenic killer?”
“He likes to torture his enemies.” Ryan reached for his mug, found it empty, and reached for the coffee pot.
“Let me help you,” Vancho offered quickly when Ryan’s hand shook.
“Thanks.” Ryan took the fresh mug and held it with both hands. “Ethan told me he’ll forever regret not being able to kill Raoul prior to their escape. He wanted to run upstairs and throttle him to death, but Jazmin kept him from going.”
“That woman amazes me more and more.” Vancho slumped in his chair. “She’s so... petite.”
“Only on the outside. Inside she’s a fighter, someone who won’t give up or break down. She’ll go to every length, do what’s necessary. As he’d do the same for her.” Ryan pulled himself together. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to... unload this on you.”
“No, no, it’s all right. I think I understand why you feared this man being free.” Vancho drank coffee and checked the license plates to search for the van’s owners. “Wanna tell me something about that adventure you had with your secretary in the Colombian woods? You know I’m dying to hear it.”
Ryan summarized the flight and the outcome while Vancho hit the keyboard.
“I got one,” the officer said after a while, smiling. “Good story, Ryan, really. My, I think I missed something, though I’m not fond of being in the wilderness. But you were an excellent team. Well, here we go—Manuel Amador.” He pointed at the screen. “That name rings a bell, but my mind’s scrambled. I think he’s got something to do with the cartel, but I need more input about this. Maybe the drug enforcement branch of the Peruvian army can help.” He smirked. “If I can get them to help me on this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I have no authority to force them into helping me.” He made a face. “They either like to cooperate with the US Embassy or they don’t.”
“Maybe I can do something,” Ryan replied grinning. “What about the phones?”
“Repairs are ongoing. News says it’ll be working by tomorrow morning. But we’ve got satellite phone. It’ll work. Who you gonna call?”
“Ghostbusters?” Ryan couldn’t help but laugh about Vancho’s annoyed expression. “Okay, right, sorry. You threw the ball in my court. If you’ve got trouble with the army helping us, my boss, or better, his assistant might make some calls to force them to aid us.”
“Ah, well, I’ll try that alone, if you don’t mind.” Vancho made a face. “We Peruvians are very peculiar when it comes to outside interference. Don’t scold me for that! If that captain I know doesn’t cooperate, we’ll play your card, okay?”
“I need the information fast, Vancho. No offense meant, but if your way doesn’t work I won’t wait another day for someone to drag himself off a chair.”
“I understand that—we can still call in favors and explain the situation. It’s just a question of... time and the right mood.”
“He’s got mood-swings? It’s not by chance a woman?”
“One of his sergeants is a woman. A pretty nice one. Very efficient and reliable.”
Ryan cocked his head, amused. “You’re in... any kind of relationship with her?”
“I wish. She’s married to the army, and I don’t know if she’d ever spare me a glance. I wouldn’t mind, though.”
“But she could be the ticket to ask the captain, right?”
“Yes.” Vancho sighed. “I don’t like to do that.” He emptied his mug and put it on the side of his desk. “She knows I’m avoiding Captain Hierro—because he’s unpredictable—and doesn’t like being the one in the middle, as you can imagine.”
Ryan put his forearms on the desk and smiled his best boy-charm smile. “Shall I ask her for help?”
* * * *
Throughout the ride on lousy streets, with small stopovers when branches were in the way, Jazmin heard Ethan’s suppressed whimpering. She knew it was a mixture of pain and uneasiness and would grow to open rebellion if the hood didn’t come off soon.
“Ethan?”
Years of training enabled him to be an outstanding bodyguard with a clear conscience and sharp senses. He was able to decide in split seconds how to disarm his opponent and could handle a variety of weapons professionally. His job demanded that he be self-denying, and Jazmin had never seen him waver in the face of danger. However, he couldn’t beat his psyche. After three weeks in captivity three years prior, remnants of fear remained and led to panic attacks no treatment could eradicate.
“Ethan, listen to me. We’ll get through this soon. Just hold on a little bit longer.”
“Tell them to take off that damn hood!” he hissed. “I can’t breathe!”
She inched closer. “We won’t give them anything they can use against you! Remember, they’re going to deliver us to somebody we don’t know. Playing into their hands is not recommended.”
Ethan blew air through his nose loudly. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I just can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Stop fidgeting and focus. If they know about your weakness, you’ll be kept like that. Understand that?”
“Distract me.”
Jazmin pulled herself together to come up with a subject, knowing how absurd it would sound. “My parents want to invite us for a Christmas ball this year. Do you think you can change shifts with Cameron?”
“With Cameron?” A noisy intake of air followed. “That guy would think I owe him something! I still don’t believe it was a good idea to recommend him for the team.”
“Why?” Jazmin frowned, even though he couldn’t see it. “Ryan thinks he’s a great guy.”
“Ryan would recommend the mailman just because he’s a nice guy. I don’t like...” He stopped when the van bumped across more large branches. “God, that’s worse than a fight! Please, tell me this ride is over soon. I can’t stand it.”
Jazmin ignored his words on purpose. Later, when they could sit at home, they’d both have a laugh about this. “Cameron?”
Ethan’s tone was grumpy. “He constantly looks at you when you’re around. He’s not concentrated on his job, on protecting the SecState.”
“You think he took the job because I work for Nolan?” she asked to keep him going.
“I know you don’t want to hear it.”
“You’re right. And your assumption’s wrong. He’s friendly, circumspect. But he’s never taken any liberties with me. He’s not that type of guy.”
“I know men and their looks. And he’s solo. My colleagues are talking about him searching for a new woman in his life.”
“Stop growling.” Jazmin made light of it, glad to have him distracted from the bumpy ride and being afraid. “Maybe he looks at me from time to time, but he’d never ruin a marriage. Remember he lost his wife like that.”
“He did?”
“She left him while he was stationed in the Middle East. Be assured he’s just friendly. That’s why Ryan gets along so well with him. They’re easy-going types.”
“Ryan’s different.”
“Because he’s your best friend.”
“And your brother.”
“In a way, yes. No one would truly believe it, but it worked in some situations.” Jazmin smiled thinking of the young charming man she had first met on their assignment in Colombia. Ryan had been happy with his profession, down to business when needed and a goofy clown outside of his job. He was rarely in a bad mood. “My mom would like to invite him, too, but wanted your approval.”
“Ryan at a Christmas ball?” Ethan snorted. “He’s worse than the neighbor’s tom cat.”
“I promise he won’t climb any tree—only if something’s amiss or—”
“Or he’ll try to impress some lady after too many eggnogs.”
“Please.”
The van came to a full stop. The doors opened.
“I’ll think about it,” Ethan said quietly.
Jazmin felt the hard grip on her upper arm and followed the pull out of the van. Even through the hood she realized it was almost noon and very warm. She was led along a stony path. Her feet hurt, but she clenched her teeth, knowing that complaints were useless. She listened to the voices around her. Spanish sounded different, with another language mixed in. A big hand slapped her butt as she entered the semi-darkness of a hut.
“Move!”
Jazmin stumbled across the threshold. The floor was sandy, compacted earth, dry and warm. She smelled fresh cooked rice, and her stomach rumbled. She was thirsty, too. Their kidnappers hadn’t provided anything during the ride. At the other end of the room she was thrust forward against the wall. The pain went through her shoulder into her head. She moaned and slipped to sit on the ground.
“What do you want from us?” she asked, but received no answer.
There were male voices around, talking with each other, but she couldn’t catch a word. It was frustrating. A thick chain was drawn across the floor and a shackle closed around her left ankle. She jerked back, but it was too late.
“What’re you doing? Where’s my husband?” She stopped, straining to hear the ruckus outside telling her about punches and kicks and people getting hurt. Hefty Spanish curses followed, and the soothing voice of the driver who had organized their transport followed. The words sounded like excuses. She waited with bated breath, close to panicking, until finally Ethan was forced down beside her. The chain rattled again and a second manacle clanked shut.
“Damn bastards!” Ethan cursed beside her.
The hoods came off. Jazmin took a deep breath, bracing to see her husband after a fight, but instead his eyes looked haunted, his face glistening with sweat. He was checking the surroundings immediately.
“You okay?” she asked quietly, carefully, and blew loose strands of hair out of her face.
“No, I’m not.” He lowered his head, groaning.
“What happened outside?”
“Don’t know. Two men were quarreling, but I couldn’t catch the reason. Is that still Spanish they’re speaking? Sounds odd.”
“Another accent, for sure, but I guess that other language is Quechua.”
“We’re up in the mountains.” Ethan made an effort to get to his feet and looked through the window. “I see hills around and far away some snow-topped mountains. They’re taking us up and to the north.”
“And what’re we doing here?” She stood beside him, anxious for some good news. “Any idea?”
“No.” He made a step toward the window, but the chain went taut and stopped him. He looked down at the manacle and the large metal ring in the floor. “Change of cars? Wait—the strip over there is wider than a street.” He exhaled and looked at her. “It’s an airfield. There’s a small plane at the end of it.”
“You think they’re going to fly us out?”
“Maybe. Anyway, they’ve already taken us far away from Lima.”
“But why?”
“That shatters our theories, doesn’t it?”
“Whatever theories we had.”
“Here,” a male voice said behind them. “I brought you something to drink.”
Jazmin turned around. The man was of Indian heritage, broad-faced and wide in his shoulders. His smooth face was ageless, his voice reserved but friendly.
“What about the shackles?” Ethan asked. “We can’t take it tied up like this.”
The Indian frowned, as if Ethan’s Spanish sounded like a foreign language. Ethan showed him his bound hands, and he nodded in understanding.
“I won’t turn you lose,” he said slowly, pointing at Ethan.
“But how—”
“I cut her rope,” he interrupted, took out a small knife from a sheath at his thigh and cut the band around Jazmin’s wrists.
“Thank you,” she said, frowning. She massaged her painful wrists. “We’re shackled to the wall. Why not cut his restraints, too? Come on, please, where should we go? There’re guards all around.”
The Indian put away the knife and waved a finger at her. “Drink and help him.”
Jazmin exchanged glances with Ethan and turned to the Indian once more. “We haven’t been allowed to use a restroom all day. I need... you understand, don’t you? Is there a separate room or...”
The Indian’s expression didn’t change. He returned with a bucket. “Here. Do what’s necessary.” He left them alone.
“I’m sorry,” Jazmin whispered. She shivered when a cool gust blew through the hut. “What do you want me to do?”
“My hands are numb. Even if you cut the bands they won’t be of any use for some time. And we can’t rip the chain out of the floor.” He let out air, frustrated. “I’d give anything if I knew where we’re being taken to.” He knelt on the ground and turned away from her when she relieved herself. “If Ryan’s able, he’ll try to find a trace of us, but where would he start amid the chaos?”
“His search will have begun the morning after the earthquake,” Jazmin replied. “If he didn’t find us at the hotel he’ll have asked the others of the staff. Maybe they’ll find the limousine.”
“And come to the conclusion we were abducted by some lunatics with weapons in front of the hotel? Not a sure bet. We could’ve been forced to leave the car behind and continue our way on foot. There were so many people trying to reach safer places. He might think we were among them. And since phones won’t be working for some days—”
Jazmin cocked her head. “Don’t underestimate Ryan. He’ll find a way to get on our track.”
“He’s never been a policeman.”
“He’s a good bodyguard. If I’m not mistaken about Vancho he’ll help him. Shall I help you with...”
Ethan let out air. “Yes.” His helpless smile was short-lived. “Never thought you’d strip off my clothes like this.”
“Yeah, you promised me a really outstanding night.” She opened the button and zipper of his pants, brows arched. “Well...”
“It was out of the ordinary, you have to admit.” They locked gazes, both realizing how irrational their situation was. “Just not as I had planned it.”
“Shut off your I’m sorry expression, Ethan, it doesn’t help. Focus on what we can do. And now tell my why you’re smiling so silly.”
“You want me to make plans while I’m peeing? With you holding my member in your hand? That’s something only you can do.”
Jazmin gave him the look. “I want us out of this, back home, having a laugh and celebrating a Merry Christmas with my family and friends. So don’t digress just because of some urgent need. We don’t know how much time they’ll grant us to talk.”
He looked beyond her shoulder. “Not much. Someone just arrived. From his stance he’s of importance or at least thinks he is. If you don’t mind...”
“Done.” Jazmin closed the button and zipper of his pants and turned around.
The newly arrived man was of average height, had once been slender with a tendency to get bulky around the middle, and was wearing a tight brown leather jacket with patches on it. From the scratches on the leather and the filthy fur lapels, she decided it was long-loved. His gray hair stood on end with the wind rushing through. From time to time he made a vain effort to smooth it back on his oblong head. While talking to the driver, he played with his sunglasses and frequently glanced into the hut. A thick gold watch glittered on his left wrist. The driver appeared frustrated, but finally nodded and lifted both hands as if giving up. The man in the leather jacket nodded curtly and gestured the driver to follow him. On the way he called for two more men.
At close range Jazmin saw the crooked nose, the fine mustache and the thin lips more clearly. He was of European heritage, his skin suntanned, but not overly much. The man’s brown eyes spoke of relentlessness and a cold eagerness to reach his goal, no matter the costs. In a business suit Jazmin would’ve taken him to be a lawyer.
“Why is she not shackled?” The man had a rough voice like a smoker. “You think she’s harmless? Never be mistaken.” He stooped and pulled her up by the undershirt. “Tie her! At once!”
Jazmin cried out in shock, and Ethan was on his feet, pushing forcefully against the man’s shoulder.
“Leave her alone!”
The man couldn’t stand his ground and instead tore Jazmin away where Ethan couldn’t follow. “Back with you, bastard!” He snarled when Ethan pulled the chain taut and stumbled one more step. He kept hold of Jazmin’s shirt and turned to the driver and the other two men. “Hey! Move! Get this hulk away from me! Knock him out if you have to!”
One of the men hurried with yet another plastic strip to tie Jazmin’s hands at her back. The driver and the second man forced Ethan to kneel.
His look was alarmed. “You already kidnapped and manhandled us! There’s no need to hurt us!”
The man in the leather jacket backhanded Ethan with all he had. “Shut up!” He exhaled noisily. “Bring ‘em to my plane. I’ve got some rope to keep them from struggling.”
Jazmin saw blood on Ethan’s lips, but more frightening was his fearful glance in her direction. She knew their situation had worsened.