Back on Solid Ground (25 page)

“She blonde?”
Ramos asked.

“Red hair and
green eyes,” Eli said.

“Really? 
That should make it easier.  Most of those perverts go for blondes.”

Ramos got on
his phone and made three phone calls, relaying different parts of what Eli had
told him to different people.  He pulled into a restaurant and parked the car. 
“We’ll eat while my men work on your problem,” he said.

Two hours had
elapsed by the time they finished their meal, but they lingered at the table
for another hour until Ramos’ men started calling with information.

“Your friend
has been taken by a very nasty man,” Ramos said.  “May I ask how she came by
such misfortune?”

“Her father
hired him,” Niki said.

Ramos shook
his head.  “Apparently your Martine Corazon is well known but not well liked in
these parts.  Which is good for you,” he added, “because people will talk.  He
lives on a compound close to Medellìn.  It will take three or four hours to get
there, depending on the roads.  We’ll leave first thing in the morning.  Do you
have accommodations?”

“No,” Eli
said. 

“We’ll get
rooms in Bogota.”

Stacy had
been in and out of consciousness, and when she finally woke up, a nurse was
standing at her side.  Stacy looked around, confused.

“Where am I?”
Stacy asked.  She reached up and touched her face and it was swollen up like a
balloon. 

“You’re at Methodist Hospital, Stacy.  Welcome home,” she smiled.

“I’m in San Antonio?” Stacy said, looking around the room in disbelief.  “How did I get here?” she
asked groggily.

“You made it
to the U.S. Embassy in Bogota and you were flown here this morning.  You don’t
remember?” the nurse asked sweetly, propping Stacy’s pillow. 

“No.” 

“Well, you’ve
been through a lot.  Let me tell the doctor you’re awake,” she said, then she
disappeared into the hall. 

A swarm of
nurses piled into Stacy’s room to welcome her back before the doctor came
through the door smiling.

“You’re awake!”
he said. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was
shot, kidnapped, and beaten to a pulp,” Stacy said weakly.

“Stupid
question,” the doctor admitted.   “How much do you remember, Stacy?”

“I don’t
remember how I got here,” she said.  “I remember being in Colombia and escaping from my kidnappers, and beating on someone’s door, and he helped me
get away.  We got in his car and he drove me away.  That’s the last thing I
remember before I woke up here five minutes ago.”

“Good,” he
said.  “You have a very serious concussion, Stacy.  You took quite a pounding. 
I’m keeping you here at least until tomorrow.  We’ll see how you’re doing
then.” 

“What day is
this?” Stacy asked.

“It’s Saturday,”
he said, examining her eyes.  “Stacy, there are some agents here that need to
ask you some questions.  I can put them off if you don’t feel up to it.”

“Who all
knows I’m here?” Stacy asked.

“The whole
world, I’m afraid,” he said.  “You’re a bit of a celebrity right now.”

“Why?” Stacy
asked.

“
Why
?”
he repeated.  “Your story is all over the news, Stacy.  There are reporters all
over the place. The waiting room is jam packed with your friends.”

“What are
they saying?” Stacy asked skeptically.

The doctor
stopped his examination and looked at her.  “It’s a big story, Stacy,” he
said.  “They’re starting with the bank robbery and how you were taken hostage. 
Then you were presumed dead – they had your funeral two days ago. And now, not
only do you turn up alive, but you managed to escape from a week in captivity
in one of the most hostile countries in the world and make it back home on your
own,” he said.  “It’s a big story.”

“And they
broadcast that I’m here in this hospital?” Stacy said.  “Why would they do
that?”

“Because
unfortunately, that’s what the media does.”

The wheels
were spinning in Stacy’s head –
my father will kill me
–  and she was
getting visibly agitated.  The doctor took her hand and tried to calm her
down. 

“Don’t worry,
we’ll help you deal with the reporters,” he said.

“I’m not
worried about the reporters,” Stacy said. “I’ll talk to the agents now.  And I
don’t want any visitors, especially not my father.”

“All right,
whatever you want,” the doctor said.

 “You’ll keep
him away from me?”

“Absolutely,”
he said.  “I’ll send the agents in now.”

Two men in
suits came in and introduced themselves to Stacy. 

“Hello, Ms. Trent.  I’m Agent Parker and this is Agent McDaniel.  We’re with the FBI.”

McDaniel
smiled at her.  “Welcome home, Ms. Trent.”

“Thanks.  I
can’t believe I’m here,” she said.  She tried to smile, but it made her face
hurt and she reached up and touched her cheekbone, then she looked around the
room. “Is there a mirror in here?” she asked. 

Parker and
McDaniel looked around.  “There’s one over here on the wall,” McDaniel said.

Stacy tried
to get up but she was tangled in her IV.  “Can you help me with this?” she
asked Parker, and he moved the IV stand and got her untwisted. Stacy stood up
but the room started spinning and she grabbed onto the bed railing and sat back
down. 

“Are you sure
you’re supposed to get up?” Parker asked.

“They didn’t
tell me not to,” Stacy said.

“Maybe they
assumed you wouldn’t try,” he said. 

“Is that
mirror bolted to the wall, or can you take it off?” Stacy asked McDaniel.

McDaniel went
to the sink and checked it out. “It comes off,” he said, removing the mirror
from the wall and bringing it over to Stacy.  “Are you sure you want to see?”
he asked.

“Is it that
bad?” she asked, feeling her face.

“I’d say so,”
McDaniel said.

“Hold it up,”
Stacy said.  McDaniel held up the mirror and Stacy gasped.  The bruise that she
had seen in the motel had turned a dark purple and it ran above and below her
left eye, and there was bruising on her right cheek and under that eye as
well.  “Oh my God!  I look horrible.”

 McDaniel set
the mirror down.  “Who did that to you?”

“Two
different guys.  Can you hand that to me please?” she said, pointing to the
mirror.

“We need to
get a statement from you.  Are you up for it?” Parker asked. 

A nurse
walked in before Stacy could answer.  “I have some painkillers for you,
Stacy.”  The nurse saw that Stacy was sitting on the side of her bed.  “You’re
not trying to walk around are you?”

“I guess
not,” she said.  She looked over at Parker and he gave her an
I told you so
look.  The nurse helped Stacy back into bed and sorted out the IV and Stacy
picked up the mirror again and had a closer look. 

“It doesn’t
look real,” she said, touching underneath her left eye. 

The nurse
looked at Stacy in the mirror.  “Miraculously, nothing was broken.  You’ll be
good as new in a couple of weeks.” 

The nurse
took the mirror and hung it back over the sink, then she put the pills in
Stacy’s hand and poured her a cup of water. 

“I’ll take
them as soon as I finish with these guys,” Stacy said, motioning towards the
agents.  “I don’t want to be all drugged up when I’m giving my statement.”

“You should
take them before the other one wears off,” the nurse advised.  “You were in a
lot of pain earlier.”

McDaniel
interjected, “Go ahead and take them.  Our questions won’t take long.”

Stacy took
the painkillers and after the nurse left the room, Parker started his
questioning. 

“Why don’t
you start with the bank robbery,” he said. 

“Okay,” Stacy
said, in a weak voice.  “I was standing in line and some men came in and held
up the bank.  And instead of lying there like a good boy, the guy next to me
stood up and pulled a gun.  They shot him and I ended up getting covered in his
blood and I freaked out.  I stood up and screamed, and then everything gets
fuzzy and I only remember bits and pieces of what happened for the next several
days,” she said.  “I remember being on the floor of a car and realizing that I
had been shot.”

Parker
interrupted, “You were shot during the bank robbery?”

“Yeah,” Stacy
said.  “Here, I’ll show you.”  She fumbled around with the covers and pulled
her gown to the side to expose the bullet wound, and Parker and McDaniel both
leaned in to see it.

“No kidding,”
Parker said.

“The next
thing I remember was being on a plane,” Stacy said, “but I couldn’t stay
awake.  I must have been in and out of consciousness because I have no concept
of time.  At some point, maybe days later, I was in a helicopter.  That’s when
I got this bruise.  And then I was in another plane, and I was put in a car and
driven to a disgusting motel.  I have no idea how long I was there.  The guy
knocked me unconscious when he did this in the helicopter, and I couldn’t think
straight. And then the main guy, the guy who hit me in the helicopter, left and
there was only one guy left to guard me.  And that’s when I escaped.”

Stacy’s eyes
glazed over and she was staring at nothing as she recalled the horror of the
scene. “I broke the mirror in the bathroom and made a knife out of it.  And
then I knocked on the door and when he came in I slashed his wrist.” Stacy had
started to cry, but she continued.  “And he grabbed me and smashed my head
against the ground and he was hitting me in the face.  That’s how I got this,”
she said pointing to the right side. “And then I stabbed him in the neck and I
watched him die.”  She looked up at Parker.  “Ten days of my life are a total
blur, but that scene is etched in my mind with perfect clarity.”

“Do you
remember what happened next?” he asked, handing her a box of Kleenex.

“I pounded on
the doors of the motel and begged a man to help me.”  Stacy wiped her eyes. 
“He asked if I was American and I told him yes.  And I asked him if I was in Mexico and he told me I was in Colombia.  Up until then, I had no idea that’s where I was.  He
helped me to his car and the last thing I remember is lying down in the back
seat.  Then I woke up here.”

“The man who
helped you drove you to the U.S. Embassy,” Parker said. “You were in and out of
consciousness, but you told them who you were and that you had been kidnapped
from San Antonio during a bank robbery.”

“I don’t
remember that at all,” Stacy said. 

“It’s no
wonder,” Parker said.  

The pills
were already taking effect and Stacy’s head was getting fuzzy again.  “Is there
any way I can contact the man who helped me?  He saved my life.”   

“I can get
you that information,” Parker said.  He looked at his notes.  “Stacy, did the
men who kidnapped you ever call each other by name?” Parker asked.

“No.  But I
overheard the leader answer his phone one time.  When he picked it up he said,
‘Corazon.’” 

“Could you
identify him from a picture?” Parker asked.

“Absolutely,”
Stacy said.

“That’s all
we need from you right now.  We’ll be back with you in a day or two to have you
look through some photos.  Thank you for talking to us,” he said.

“Wait!” she
said frantically.  “That’s not all.”

Parker and
McDaniel looked at Stacy, waiting.

“Corazon told
me that my father paid him to kill me,” Stacy said.  “And he showed me a
diamond necklace and bracelet that had belonged to my mother.” 

Parker’s
mouth dropped. “We haven’t been able to locate your father since we got word of
your arrival at the Embassy.  He seems to have disappeared.”

“Are you
saying that you weren’t taken at random in the bank robbery?” McDaniel asked.

“It was a set
up,” Stacy said.

The agents
looked at each other skeptically. “We’ll look into that, Stacy,” Parker said. 
“I’m going to post a man at your door.”

“You’re not
going to tell the media that, are you?  That my father was behind the whole
thing.” Stacy was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“No.  But
we’re going to have to issue a statement to the press at some point.   You’ll
probably want to also, just to get them off your back,” Parker said.

“I’ll do it
tomorrow,” she said.  Her eyelids closed and she forced them back open.  “I’m
sorry.  I’m so tired.”

“We’re done
for now,” Parker said. 

Stacy shook
hands with each of them.  “It was nice to meet you.  And thank you,” she said. 

“We’re glad
you made it home,” Parker said.

They took the
main road out of Bogota toward Medellìn at first light.  Niki, Jason and Carlos
were sitting in the back seat and Eli was up front with Ramos.  They had driven
for a couple of hours and had just crossed the Magalena, when Carlos got a
chill down his spine and he sat bolt upright.  Niki looked over at Carlos and
he could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong. 

“What’s the
matter?” Niki asked Carlos.

“Nothing,”
said Carlos, trying to shake the feeling of dread.

“Bullshit, I
can tell something’s wrong,” Niki said, irritated.  “Is it Stacy?”

Carlos looked
out the window past Niki. 

“What the
fuck is it, Carlos?” Niki said angrily.

“I don’t
know,” he said. 

Niki could
feel the tension building up in his body, and he felt like he needed to smash
something.

“It could be
nothing,” Carlos said, in an attempt to calm Niki down.

Niki looked
out the window and didn’t say anything. 

Carlos leaned
towards the front seat and asked Ramos, “Is there a roadside motel in this
area?”

Ramos looked
in the rearview mirror.  “As a matter of fact, there is,” he said, surprised.
“But I assure you, you wouldn’t want to stay there.”