Primary Valor by Jack Mars (booksvooks TXT) 📗

Charlotte’seyes were already adjusting to the light, and she could see that Elaine wascarrying a leather switch, the kind that she liked to hit Charlotte with. Theman with the gun stepped in behind.

“Answer me, 21.”

“I don’t…”

“Is that all you can say? You don’tknow?”

Charlotte was stuck. There was nogood way to answer these questions. Elaine was angry with her. Or maybe she wasjust acting angry to manipulate her. It was impossible to tell, but it seemedreal.

“You’re making his life verydifficult, did you know that?”

“I…”

Elaine had the switch in her lefthand. She stepped quickly across the room and slapped Charlotte across the facewith her right hand. Hard. Instantly, Charlotte’s cheek stung. She raised ahand to it. The skin was hot.

“Speak!” Elaine said. “Saysomething, you dumb slut.”

How could she speak? What couldshe say? She had no idea what this person was talking about.

Elaine slapped her again. Andagain.

“They think they’re coming to takeyou. Okay? But they’re not. They’re not going to make it here, and even if theydo, they won’t know where you are. Do you know why? Because you’re going to bein this room. No one is going to find you down here, princess. No one. Andanyone who tries is going to die.”

She smacked Charlotte with theswitch. It sliced across Charlotte’s bare neck. The sting was such that everytime she felt it, it seemed like it ripped open the skin there. It always feltlike she would bleed. But instead it raised a welt, one which would go away ina few hours. Already Charlotte had realized why.

Elaine was not to damage themerchandise. Charlotte belonged to Darwin, not Elaine. Elaine’s attacks weresuperficial. They hurt, but did no lasting harm.

Even that little bit of knowledgegave Charlotte power. The tears streamed down her face now, but the emotiondidn’t reach her heart. It was an act. Elaine couldn’t hurt her. She wasn’tallowed.

Elaine herself probably belongedto Darwin.

And someone was coming. Someonewas coming here to rescue her.

She knew it!

“Don’t get your hopes up, dummy. Isee it in your eyes. But you might as well forget it. No one is going to saveyou.”

Elaine turned to the man with her.

“Give her the bucket.”

The man reached outside the doorand came back with a white plastic bucket, like something chlorine for yourpool would come in. He dropped it and kicked it into the room. It made a hollowsound as it slid across the floor.

“That’s your bathroom break today,bitch.”

They left the room and the doorslammed shut. The bolts closed. Charlotte was in near total darkness again.

They hadn’t left her food, orwater. And they were going to make her pee in a bucket. That was too bad, butit also didn’t matter.

Someone was coming. She needed tobe ready for that.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

10:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

Marriott Extended Stay Suites

Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

 

 

“Greetings from Nicaragua,” BuzzMacDonald said.

Luke looked at Ed and smiled. Theguy was a character.

“Hi, Buzz,” Luke said.

“Hello, Stone. Who else you gotthere for me?”

Luke introduced Ed. Introductionswere made around the table at SRT headquarters. Formalities and niceties wereexchanged.

“What are you doing in Nicaragua?”Luke said.

“What am I doing here? I livehere. Beautiful beaches. Beautiful women to spend Uncle Sam’s pension money on.And I’m a foot taller than everyone I meet. At least a foot. Big, long waves ifyou like to surf, and I do. And the fish jump into your boat. The real questionis: what are you doing there?”

Now even Ed smiled.

“The commies don’t bother you?”Luke said.

The United States had beenfighting the communist Sandinistas in Nicaragua during Buzz’s time. Whateverthe government in Nicaragua called itself now, many of the middle-agedpoliticians in suits were just older versions of the young revolutionaries infatigues from decades before, and with guns borrowed from Cuba.

“I like commies,” Buzz said. “Theyscare the tourists away. If you drive just a little ways down the road fromhere, the college kids are turning friendly, welcoming Costa Rica into one bigdrunken wet T-shirt contest. No thanks. I’ll take a stern communist and alittle bit of vitamin deficiency any day. It gives the people soft bones.”

Luke shook his head. But Buzz wasn’tdone yet. “Oh, I like to go swimmin’, with bow-legged women,” he half said,half sang.

“I think we should call thismeeting to order,” Don said.

“I think I’d like to second that,”Luke said.

“I was ready an hour ago,” Buzzsaid.

“Buzz and I talked early thismorning,” Don said. “Without going into a lot of preamble, Buzz knows thewaters around St. Simon’s Saw. Buzz?”

“I do,” Buzz said. His toneswitched instantly. Now he was all business.

“I’ve fished those waters quite abit. There’s a small island about ten clicks to the south and west of St. Simon’s.The locals call it Isla de los Jabalies. There’s been nobody out there inrecent years. A little bit of raised terrain on the northeast side, but flat asa pancake across the rest of it. Grasslands primarily. Some mangroves tonavigate, but on the island proper, the trees were mostly cut down ages ago. It’swide open. You guys can do a night drop in there easily. The Hondurans won’tbother your airplane—they’ll think it’s a cartel run, if they even notice it. I’llalready be there with a Zodiac, ready to go. The water can get big betweenislands, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ll ram it up on the beach on St. Simon’s,below the house. There’s a hiking trail that goes up the side of the mountain. Ithink your girl has done a little bit of research on all this.”

“A hiking trail?” Luke said.

“Trudy?” Don said.

“I’m your girl,” Trudy said. “Yes,it sounds like a plan that can work. Isla de los Jabalies, in Spanish, meansIsland of the Wild Pigs. In the mid-1800s, rich landowners from the mainlandstocked the island with boars for hunting.”

“Are there boars out there now?”Luke said.

Getting charged by a wild boarwhile tangled in a parachute didn’t sound like the best way to start anoperation.

“No. The impoverished peasantskilled them all and ate them a hundred years ago. But the name stuck. Theisland has been inhabited, off and on, throughout history. In recent decades,the shanty towns that popped up tended to get knocked flat by hurricanes. HurricaneMitch in 1998