Part 41 (1/2)
She sat there pondering her fate, wondering how the h.e.l.l she was going to get out of this one, when a pet.i.te young girl slipped quietly into the cell carrying a tray laden with soup and a roll. She approached Ca.s.s cautiously, and placed the tray on the floor beside the beaten woman. As she started to leave, Ca.s.s quickly detained her.
”Wait!” she said insistently.
The young girl stopped in her tracks, but kept her back to Ca.s.s, obviously afraid of retribution if Ca.s.s' captors found her talking to the prisoner.
”Please, come back,” Ca.s.s asked, extending one hand toward the girl. ”I won't hurt you... I promise,” she added.
The girl looked at Ca.s.s, her brow drawn together in confusion. Ca.s.s restated her plea in Spanish. ”Por favor vuelve. You not te voy a hacer dano...lo prometo.”
Immediately recognizing her native tongue, the girl half turned toward Ca.s.s, and slowly made her way back to the center of the room, keeping one eye on Ca.s.s, and the other on the entrance to the cell. Finally, when she had reached Ca.s.s, she bent down next to the tray and started fussing with the food there in an attempt to make the captors believe her movements were necessary.
Ca.s.s caught on immediately to what the girl was doing. Trying not to make it obvious, she began talking. ”Por favor. Donde estoy? Necesito irme de aqui. Necesito encontrar my avion. Me ayudas?” she pleaded. [”Please. Where am I? I need to get out of here. I need to find my plane. Will you help me?”]
The young girl raised her eyes to meet Ca.s.s' face. The girl was stunningly beautiful. Appearing to be no older than 15 or 16, she had skin the color of coffee with cream and large dark brown eyes that seemed to fill her entire face. Her face was framed by a mane of long black curly locks. When their eyes met, something pa.s.sed between them ... an understanding, a sense of camaraderie.
Ca.s.s held her eyes, waiting for an answer, but none was forthcoming. A frightened look flashed across the girl's face as a voice came from outside the cell door. Quickly, she rose to her feet, and darted out of the room, pausing long enough to give Ca.s.s one more sympathetic look.
As soon as the girl left, the cell door was slammed shut with a loud clang. The unkempt guard on the other side spit tobacco on the floor and grinned, exposing stained, decaying teeth.
Come, Gringa. Eso es todo lo que te tienes hasta la cena,” he said, chuckling as he walked away. [”Eat up, Gringa. That's all you get until dinner,”]
Ca.s.s looked at the soup and roll that had been left for her and pushed them away, not wanting to add further to her stomach upset.
Ca.s.s paced back and forth across her cell, trying desperately to come up with a way to escape, but to no avail. She had inspected every square inch of the room, looking for a weak spot... a loose bar on the window... a loose brick in the outside wall... anything that would give her hope. After several hours of investigating, she came to the conclusion that the only way out was through the door, which had been heavily guarded since she arrived.
She had no contact with anyone since the peasant girl had left that morning. Not even the guards were paying her any attention, even though she repeatedly asked them where she was. Jason hadn't made another appearance since that morning either.
She was beginning to wonder just how long she would be stuck in this h.e.l.lhole when Jason finally showed up. After entering the cell, he had the guard lock the door behind him so that Ca.s.s couldn't escape. He was obviously afraid of the tall pilot, since he carried a gun into the cell with him, keeping it trained on Ca.s.s at all times.
”Well, Ca.s.s, have you had enough time to think over your predicament? I would rather not have to force you to fly the plane out, but I will if necessary. Your cooperation will help a.s.sure your own long-term safety, you know. If you were smart, you'd change your mind and do what you could to see that we transport the goods safely and expediently,” he informed her.
Ca.s.s looked at the man with disgust clearly written across her features. ”And just where are these drugs destined to end up, Jason ... in some school yard?” she asked pointedly as she leaned her back against the wall, crossing her arms in front of her.
”What happens to the drugs after I deliver them is no concern of mine,” he stated plainly. ”All I need to do is make the drop, then I wash my hands of the whole mess” he replied.
”You disgust me, Jason,” Ca.s.s said with a sneer. Pus.h.i.+ng herself off the wall, she walked to the far corner and looked out the small barred window, her back to the armed man.
Jason just shook his head from side to side. ”What am I going to do with you, Ca.s.s?? he asked. ”You WILL fly the plane out, you know. One way or another, you WILL fly it out. It's up to you just how uncomfortable you want to be while you're doing it,” he added.
Still looking out the window, she replied, ”I won't help you destroy innocent lives, Jason ... especially the lives of children.”
”Well then, your life will be destroyed instead,” he said as he came up behind her and pistol-whipped her across the back of the head, causing her to fall lifelessly to the floor of the cell.
By the time the plane landed in Bogota, eight hours after she had left Maine, Rox was exhausted. The one hour layover in Miami hadn't helped much to ease her foul mood, nor did the loud, sa.s.sy little brat that sat in the seat in front of her on her connecting flight to Bogota. She was ready to spit nails when she finally collected her bag and headed toward the exit at Bogota's public airport. A short time later, she had secured a hotel room and was sitting on the bed, gathering her thoughts and compiling a plan for finding Ca.s.s.
She decided that her first line of attack should be with the local police, so without further ado, she headed out the door, hailed down a taxicab, and was on her way to the police station. When she arrived, she asked for a closed-door session with the chief of police. Drawing curious glances from the officers at the front desk, she realized that they didn't know much English. Frustrated, she paced back and forth in front of the desk, racking her brain for several moments, trying desperately to figure out how she was going to make them understand. The looks on their faces made it clear that they thought this yellow haired gringa was insane.
Finally, Rox had a thought. Approaching the desk once more, she said two words, ”Carlos Santonio.” Within seconds, the policemen had drawn their guns and backed her up against the wall, frisking her for weapons. Then without ceremony, the escorted her to the holding cell and threw her inside, locking the door behind her.
”Hey! Let me out of here!” she yelled through the bars as the police officers walked away. ”d.a.m.n it! I said let me out of here! Aarrgghh!” she screamed as they ignored her request.
Rox paced back and forth for several minutes, furious for being treated like a common criminal, until finally, an official looking man in a business suit approached her cell. ”Good afternoon, Senorita. I am police chief Juan Pena,” he said in introduction.
”Thank G.o.d!” Roxanne exclaimed. ”There's been some kind of mistake. You see, I haven't done anything wrong. Your men threw me in here without cause,” she added.
”Not entirely without cause, Senorita,” the police chief replied. ”It appears that you have connections to the drug lord, Carlos Santonio, no?” he asked.
”Yes.... I mean no.... I mean, yes, I mentioned him to your officers, but that doesn't mean I'm involved with him. Senor Pena, I'm innocent. I am here looking for information...” she began.
”Just what kind of information, may I ask?” he said, interrupting her speech.
”Information about a plane that was hijacked in San Diego yesterday... I need...” Rox started to explain.
”So! You are connected to the hijacking, huh? Are you the contact?... the middle man so to speak? Being involved in drugs is a serious crime Miss....” the police chief said.
”Ward... my name is Roxanne Ward, and no, I'm not connected to the hijacking ... and I've never done drugs!” Roxanne began to pace again, frustrated that she couldn't get her point across to this man. ”d.a.m.n it! I had nothing to do with the hijacking. I'm looking for Ca.s.sidy Conway. She was piloting the plane,” Rox explained.
Police Chief Pena's eyes narrowed. ”Senorita Conway, huh? That is very interesting,” he said, started to pace himself. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Rox. ”You know your government believes she is in on the hijacking, don't you?” he asked.
”I know they do,” Rox replied, ”but it's not true,” Rox exclaimed.
”I see,” said Pena still pacing. Finally, he stopped directly in front of her. Placing one hand on his hip and tracing his bushy mustache with the other hand, he said, ”Well, Miss Ward, we will have to check out your story before we can release you. It is very important that we cooperate with the US government on drug dealers.”
”I'm NOT a drug dealer!” she exclaimed again in frustration, hands on her hips.
”We shall see, Miss Ward ... we shall see. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable. It will take a while to check out your story,” he informed her as he started to walk away.
Roxanne was beside herself with disbelief. ”I.... I....,” she stammered, unable to voice her frustration. ”Can I at least make a phone call while I wait?” she asked.
Pena stopped and looked at his prisoner. ”One call,” he said, as he approached her cell and unlocked the door. ”Follow me.”
Roxanne followed Chief Pena down the hall to a small room containing a table, two chairs, and a telephone The door was left ajar, and a guard posted while she made her call.
”Nikki, please be there!” she said under her breath as she charged the call to her home number.
After several rings, the phone was answered by a groggy voice. ”h.e.l.lo?” it said.
”Jerri? Jerri, is Nikki home?” Rox asked.
”Rox? What time is it?” asked Jerri sleepily. She was working the midnight to noon s.h.i.+ft and had set her alarm for 11 p.m. It didn't feel that late.