Page 4 of Charlotte
The darkness comes again. Waking sometime later I wonder if I have a concussion or a head bleed. If it’s the later, I won’t have to worry about what they are going to do to me. I will succumb to coma or death soon. Given the fact that I continue to wake from time to time, it’s most likely not that bad. I don’t think I’ve had a seizure because I’m not wet in my groin like I have peed myself. Sometimes it sucks to have medical knowledge. Ok I have to think, plan, get my act together and get my ass out of here before they come for me again, but I hurt so much. My fingers are numb, every muscle in my body hurts, and I’m so tired.
As I lay in the dirt my mind drifts to my children. They won’t know what happened to me. Sarah and Justin have lost so much already in losing their father. I hate for them to go through this again. I am so proud of them. Justin recently graduated from the state police academy. He had gotten a degree in criminal justice from the University of Kentucky and then entered the academy. Sarah has followed in her mother’s footsteps by getting a bachelor’s degree in nursing. She is working at a regional hospital in the intensive care unit. I’m so proud of them. Neither has gotten married yet, but they will someday. Now, due to my foolishness I will never see my grandchildren. Why did I have to be so stupid? I knew better. We had been drilled to never go off by ourselves especially while out in the villages. And what did I do? Went off by myself with a stranger, no less and got myself beaten and kidnapped. Stupid, stupid, stupid! My angst is interrupted by the sound of footsteps and voices coming near. A metal door screeches open and I’m hit by a blinding light. The searing pain from the sunlight causes my eyes to scrunch together tightly. A shadow blocks the light. It’s a large man with a gruff voice. He’s yelling at me in Spanish. I only catch a word or two. I wonder if it’s better if they don’t know that I can understanding any Spanish so I weakly mutter “no speaka Spanish.”
The man proceeds to kick me in the ribs several times. Having no way to defend myself with my arms behind my back, I take the full force of every kick. It hurts to breath. He has bruised or maybe even broken some ribs. God, I hope my lung isn’t punctured. Again, it sucks to have medical knowledge. The man begins again in English this time.
“You are going to pay for your meddling, bitch. You should never have messed with our girls. You high and mighty Americans come in here and think you can tell us what is right and wrong! Those girls are ours! We will do with them what we want. It’s what they are born for, to be whores, and serve my men. They are our women and you have no right to take them away and hide them from us. Where are the girls?” I don’t respond. He kicks me a few more times. “Tell me, bitch. I know you know where they were taken. Where. Are. They!” When I continue to refuse to answer, he growls in frustration and gives me another couple of kicks to the stomach and ribs. “Since you decided to take from us, we will take you instead.”
In my present condition, I’m unable to respond. My lungs don’t have enough breath to speak and it’s hard to think clearly right now anyway. The man, Asshole is his name in my mind, grabs me by the hair and drags me outside. I try to push myself along with my feet to decrease the pain in my scalp. They pick me up and throw me in the back of a jeep. Asshole and his companions, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, climb in and we head off into the jungle. I’m not sure how long we travel, because I drift in and out of consciousness. Suddenly I’m jerked awake by rough hands grabbing me by my shoulders and legs. I’m dragged out of the jeep and carried to small metal building with a stone floor. The men throw me to the floor with a thud and exit the little shed. The door closes to the sound of a lock clicking. I wonder if my colleagues have alerted the authorities. Is anyone even looking for me?
The days blur together as the beatings and moving from place to place continues. The men talk over me in Spanish, not knowing I can understand them. I learn that not only are they in the sex trade, but also are involved in drugs and weapons. I need to get away. Struggling with my bindings only causes more pain. As I am faced with the futility of my situation, I let my mind wander back in time. Remembering the day at the airport when we were heading out on our trip I think of the man with startling green eyes and briefly relive my encounter with him.
As I turn to leave, a gentle pressure is on my arm. An electric shook seems to run up my arm into my chest and the heat of his hand warms my arm. I look up into the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen. The man smiles at me and says, “Thank you for taking the time to remind us why we do this. It means a lot to me and my men.” “You’re very welcome.” I reply with a smile. I can’t say much more because this gorgeous man has stolen my breath away.
If only I could have stayed in that moment forever. I have let my mind think of the man often over the last few weeks since it happened. He has haunted my dreams, too. I wonder what his name is and if he has a family waiting for him. It’s crazy to daydream about a complete stranger, but he stirred something in me that I thought had died years ago. My fantasies of him are the only thing that keeps me going through the days that follow.
My captors moved us several more times. I have no idea where we are or how far we have traveled from my base camp. Finally, we reach what I assume is our final destination, as it has been several days since we last traveled in the jeep. I’m kept in a shed with a dirt floor. There are no windows, so I am in the dark most of the time. It is unbearably hot during the day and very cold at night. They bring me water several times a day, but it is brown and gritty. It has made me sick; nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea has weakened me. My hands have been released from behind my back, but I’m kept restrained by chains on my wrists and ankles for most of everyday. I’m rarely released not even to eat or use the bucket in the room. My clothes are filthy and torn. Sores have erupted on my skin and I smell to high heaven.
When they come in to abuse me, I try not to show emotion. Knowing it will give them satisfaction to see my fear. The beatings seemed to come at regular intervals. It’s how my day begins every day. A blinding light from the opening of the door of the shed, then they are beating me, humiliating me, and threatening me with worse abuse. Then I am left to my daydreams to pass the time until it comes again.
This morning some new men have joined the others. The light from outside is blinding. My eyes hurt so badly from the light. They have left the door open this time. Fear overwhelms me. There is something evil about the new commers. The group of men enter the shed and come to stand over me, blocking some of the light. Asshole is with Tweedledee and Tweedledum today. He seems to be the ringleader of their group, but the new men behind him are definitely in charge now.
These men are armed with machine guns at the ready. They have pistols at their sides and knives strapped to their thighs. The new apparent leader is tall maybe 6’4” with short black hair, a full bushy mustache. He is muscular and handles himself with confidence. His sharp chiseled features would have made him handsome, if not for the sinister look in his black eyes. He must be Satan, himself.
“Who’s this brother?” Satan inquires.
“The whore I told you about that was meddling in our business in Guatemalan villages. I was able to acquire her. Actually, I got paid to take her. Now, I am teaching her the consequences of messing with the Lopez brothers.” Asshole replies with venom in his voice. He spits and it lands near my face. I can’t help but flinch. Their laughter angers me that have given them any satisfaction.
“I haven’t touched her yet, brother. I was getting paid to torture her, but that has come to an end. So now I’m going to use her. Would you like the first taste? Or do you prefer we train her first?” Asshole reaches down to stroke my cheek. I jerk back and swing my right fist toward his face, but the chain hampers my movements. So, I try to wrap the chain on my wrist around his arm in an effort to pull him off balance.
“You bitch!” He screams and smashes his fist into the right side of my face. Stars flash before my eyes and blood trickles down my face. I struggle to remain conscious, terrified of what will happen if I am unable to remain alert.
“She is filthy and fucking a whore in a tool shed is not my idea of a good time brother. You seem to have forgotten I have much higher standards than you do. However, she intrigues me, leave her untouched. Clean her up and bring her to the compound in 3 days. Then I will take her and train her myself. She looks like she would be a good fuck. Feisty, just like I like them. It’s so much fun to break them.” Satan says as he turns away.
The men begin discussing business. A large shipment of drugs and guns will be moved in a couple of weeks. The men are planning to attack a small outpost along the Mexican American border in a remote part of Texas. They know the shift changes of staff, the names of the border patrol officers, and their families. They are planning to abduct family members to get cooperation of the patrol officers. They are clearly insane. Can they really get away with something like this?
The need to get away and to tell someone, before they can carry out their evil plan is overwhelming. Drugs have wreaked havoc on so many. Drugs ruin the lives of not only the user, but their family members as well. The men continue discussing the upcoming shipment of drugs and weapons. They discuss which border agent families to target. They discuss who they think will be the most likely to heed their demands. Later the conversation again returns to me being held their captive. Satan seems to be unhappy that his brother has brought me here. He is rattling on about drawing unwanted attention to his operation. He promises Asshole serious harm or death if my being in there causes them to lose or get caught with the shipment of drugs and weapons.
A little while later after Tweedledee has given me my beating, he says, “It’s time to have some fun. If we aren’t going to get our money anymore, we can at least get something we want out of you. I don’t care what the boss says.”
He kneels next to me and shovels his hand up my shirt and begins to grope me. His touch is rough, and I can’t stop a whimper from leaving my lips when he bites my breasts through my shirt. He pulls my pants and underwear down to my ankles and he forces me onto my stomach. I hear him fumbling with his pants. Oh God! This can’t be happening. His rough hands grab my hips and jerk them up, so my sex is on display for him. I try to crawl away, but he is too strong. He holds me where he wants me. Just as I feel his vile shaft push against my folds, a shout from outside the shed stops him. Tweedledum enters the shed yelling in rapid Spanish. Tweedledee responds in a similar manor. They are speaking so fast I don’t understand what he says.
Tweedledee jumps up righting his pants. He jerks me up from the floor and pulls my clothing back onto my body. Thank God! He again binds my hands behind my back and drags me outside by my hair. I am again thrown into the back of the jeep. The men seem to be upset about something and seem to be in a hurry to leave. We head off through the jungle at breakneck speed with Asshole at the wheel. I’m thrown around in the back of the jeep like a rag doll. My ribs are again very sore. It’s hard to breath without coughing. As I begin to think, I’m going to pass out again, gun fire erupts.
My captors pull out several large guns and begin firing behind us and to the right of the jeep. Whomever is after these men are getting closer. Tweedledee and Tweedledum grab me roughly by my shoulders and feet. Suddenly, I am air borne. The ground rushes up to smack me hard. My head slams into the ground and my vision blurs. All the air is forced from my lungs from the impact. I look to see my captors looking back at me, but they don’t stop. They continue to race away from me firing at some unknown enemies behind us. The roar of an engine fills my ears and realize that I am about to be run over by a vehicle that is hurdling along the jungle path.
I struggle to get out of the way in time, but it’s no use. In my weakened condition and with my hands bound, I can’t move much at all. Thankfully, the men in the Humvee that barrels down upon me sees me in time to stop before making me into roadkill. Several camouflaged clad men leap from the vehicle with guns raised and scanning the surrounding jungle. Who are these men? Have I gone from the frying pan to the fire? In my panic I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs and my vision begins to fade, the darkness coming in from my peripherals at a rapid pace. The last thing I see before I slip into the void is bright green eyes peering at me with concern.
Chapter 4
Hawk
We have been down herefor weeks and finally we have a solid lead on the gun runner’s location. We are loaded up and ready to raid their little hide out. We are taking 2 Humvees with my guys in the first vehicle and the SEAL team in the other vehicle. We head in first to secure the site and set up a perimeter. The SEALs will secure the weapons and ammunition and prepare for extraction once everything is secured. Everyone knows their job. We have been training together for a couple of months now and the SEALs are like an extension of our band of brothers.
As soon as we descend on the hide out, a jeep takes off through the jungle. Our group follows it in case they are going for reinforcements. Deadeye is driving while I relay to the SEAL team the change in plans. It is a harrowing race along a narrow trail. The green foliage whips by as we increase our speed in an effort to catch up to the jeep. We are at a disadvantage not knowing the terrain as well as those we chase, but it seems we are gaining ground. I hear gunfire and see the flashes from the end of a machine gun. I only catch a glimpse as the jeep careens to the right around a curve and out of sight.
We round the curve and see a long straight stretch of trail in front of us. The jeep is close. I can see the dark skinned, black haired men with guns blazing. Suddenly, they drop their weapons and reach down to grab something. Fear briefly races up my spine as I wonder if they have an RPG. When they raise back up, they throw something, no someone, out the back of the jeep and onto the trail. There is no way to go around the body due to thick growth of trees on both sides of the trail. Deadeye is forced to break hard to stop and not run over the body on the ground. The Humvee careens sideways as we slide to a stop. We jump out ready for an ambush. Moving to the body, I look down and see those beautiful hazel eyes that have been haunting me for months looking back at me before they roll back into her head.
It’s the woman from the airport. The one that caused such a stirring in me, that I have found myself thinking about daily over the last couple of months. I have even dreamed about her at night, jacking off when I wake with her on my mind. She is covered in filth. Her clothes are torn and several shades darker than they once were from the layers of dirt caked on them. Her face is swollen and bruised in varying shades of blue, green, and purple. Blood oozes from a cut over her right eye and her lower lip. Her hands are secured behind her back with zip ties. There is fresh and dried blood on her wrists from prolonged exposure to the zip ties. Her ankles are secured in a similar fashion.
