Forced Disappearance (15 page)

He kept repeating the same questions, same themes, hoping she’d give up and crack. He didn’t know her very well. Which could work to her advantage.

“Glenn didn’t come to Caracas with ill intent,” she said.

Roberto’s smile turned superior. “But you see, we already have confirmation that he had. Do you think we would risk kidnapping a US citizen off the street without cause? It wouldn’t be worth the diplomatic headache.”

She stared at him, her mind switching into higher gear. “What cause?”

“Not everybody thinks that the USA should rule the world. A lot of people think sovereign countries should remain sovereign countries, without US pressure and influence in their politics and commerce. Not everybody likes a bully.”

“What do you call this here? Kidnapping me, holding me captive, interrogating me without charges, without a lawyer, convicting me without a court. Isn’t this bullying? An abuse of power?”

“You’re right.” He kept his smile. “We should be more like your country. Since you’re such a shining example, with your secret CIA prisons all around the world. Even the inmates at Guantanamo, they get lawyers and due process and speedy trials . . .”

He trailed off, the smile sliding off his face. “Wait. No they don’t. Your country holds prisoners against all the rules of the Geneva Convention, does it not? Remind me how waterboarding isn’t an abuse of power.”

She stayed silent. It didn’t matter what she said, whether she was right or not. The bottom line was Roberto held all the power in the present situation. No amount of talking was going to change that.

“I wish it could be different,” he continued, more pensively, after a moment. “I would love to try this case in open court. But the second you were publicly charged, the US would exercise diplomatic pressure to have you released. So this is all I have, if I want to protect my country.”

“Glenn and I are not spies.”

“I’m sure all the occupants of secret and not-so-secret CIA prisons say the same. Do you think your CIA takes their word for it?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He leaned forward and folded his hands on top of the desk, his knuckles brushing his weapon. “We have credible information that Mr. Danning came to Venezuela to undermine our oil and natural gas businesses, which are critical to Venezuela’s economy and national security.”

Information from where?

This was different from getting picked up on
suspicion, out of sheer paranoia. No, someone had deliberately reported Glenn as a spy to the Venezuelan government, made up the charge, knowing what would happen to him. Someone had informed on Glenn, had set him up.

“How do you know you can trust your informant? Who is it?”

Roberto smiled mysteriously and said nothing.

He had all the advantage. She needed to find his weak point. He certainly hadn’t shown any so far. But he did resent that his investigation had to be conducted behind the scenes. He couldn’t very well receive recognition for his work here, could he? No promotion, no raise. No acknowledgment, which would bug a man if he had any vanity.

And judging by Roberto’s car and clothes, he had plenty.

She tilted her head. “So you’ll execute us here, without ever having to prove in a court of law that you’re right about anything. That doesn’t require an exceptional investigator, does it? You don’t have to make your case. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Can’t say I’m impressed.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Getting me angry isn’t going to bring you any advantage. I’m your only friend here, Miranda.”

Right, because they were BFFs for sure. But she played along. “And what’s that going to get me?”

“Give me Danning, and I’ll see to it that you’re not harmed.”

Impossible, even if she were willing to consider it. “You can’t let me go back to the US. You can’t afford to let me file a report on this case.”

He assessed her for a long moment before he responded. “I do enjoy intelligent women.” He unfolded his hands, picked up a pen, and tapped it against the desk. “Consider this. What if you go back and don’t make your report?”

“Why would I cover for you?”

“You’ve seen Venezuela. It’s a great country. The people are good, but they’re poor. A big reason for that is economic pressure. Western countries want to get their hands on our oil and gas, take all the profits out and let all our people starve. What do they care? We don’t wish to become a colony again. Is that such a crime?”

She wracked her brain for a way out of this maze, some kind of a strategic move that could set both her and Glenn free.

“You are American,” Roberto went on in the meanwhile. “You believe in freedom, yes? Are you like some Americans who believe in freedom only for themselves? Or do you believe in freedom for every human being?”

Again, she remained silent.

“You could go back home and help us from there. Let us know when more spies are sent. Let us know about the never-ending plots to gain control of our natural resources. If you believe that freedom is a human right, then help to keep Venezuela free.”

She would say whatever she needed to say to get out of the jungle alive, but she wasn’t going to sacrifice Glenn. “I can’t give you Danning. Let us both go.”

He smiled a knowing smile, as if he’d expected that answer. “I’m sorry, Miranda, I can’t do that. But I’ll give you some time to think. When you realize that helping us is the right thing to do, call for the guards and ask them to bring you to me.” He turned toward the door. “José! Antonio!”

The two men hurried in and grabbed her by the arms. They were pulling her down the handful of wooden steps when Roberto called after her, making her turn.

“Don’t take long.” He was standing behind his desk, his dark gaze following her. “Do remember that this is a National Guard camp. I’m not the highest authority here. My ability to help you, the window of time, is not unlimited.”

Glenn could see the men bringing her back. She was walking on her own. No bruises on her face. No bleeding. Some of the knotted muscles in his shoulders relaxed.

“What did they want?” he asked as soon as they brought her in, tied her up, and left again.

“Roberto is convinced that you’re a spy. He thinks I full well know it. He wanted to know how many other spies the US has here.”

“Did he hurt you?” Although she had no visible marks on her, there were other ways to hurt a woman.

“Maybe he’s saving physical violence for later. For the first round, he just wanted to show me how intimidating he can be.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I got the feeling that he’s the type to leave the torture to others. He’s a cold son of a bitch, but I don’t think he’d enjoy beating up a woman. Yet, I don’t think he’d be bothered if someone did it for him, as long as he got the results he wanted.”

Glenn considered that piece of insight. She was probably right. But over his dead body would the bastard, or anyone else, put their hands on Miranda. “We’re leaving tonight, as soon as it gets dark and the soldiers pull back into their huts. Time to complicate the game a little more. We’re going to break out, whatever it takes.”

To his relief, she didn’t insist that they should wait for the right opportunity, to obtain a weapon first or food, or the keys to one of the vehicles. Instead, she said, “Someone reported you. Someone informed the authorities that you’re a spy. That’s why they grabbed you on the street.”

The idea that someone he knew would deliberately set him up required a moment to digest, the betrayal difficult to accept. “Who?”

“I thought maybe one of the businessmen you’ve come here to meet.”

He considered that for only a second. “They are at bigger risk than I am. I met with them. If the government found out about those meetings, they’d be labeled traitors and probably executed.” They seemed to be decent men. He hoped they hadn’t been caught up in this witch hunt.

But Miranda said, “Your brother told me he called them after you disappeared to see if they knew where you’d gone. That means they were still okay well after the National Guard picked you up.”

Glenn rolled that new piece of information around in his head. “If the National Guard didn’t know about my meetings, then they weren’t following me from the moment I got off the plane.”

“Maybe whoever reported you didn’t call in the trip ahead of time. Maybe he or she only contacted the authorities on March first. The National Guard tracked you down and picked you up after dinner.” She paused. Narrowed her eyes. “Was it Cesar’s idea that you should come to Venezuela?”

“No. Mine. Cesar objected. He doesn’t trust the Venezuelan government not to interfere with whatever private agreements we make with businesses here.”

“And you do?”

“Probably not. Knowing what I know now. But it’s a huge market. I didn’t want to discount it out of hand. I thought it was worth at least checking into, putting out some feelers.”

And those feelers led here. Somebody had fed false information about him to the Venezuelan government, knowing very well what would happen.

Somebody wanted to kill him.

He rolled his shoulders, considering the new piece of information from every angle. “Not that many people knew that I was coming here. Gloria, Tyler, and Cesar.” He trusted all three. He couldn’t see any possible angle for any of them to want him out of the picture. Then he remembered something else. “The secretary who made the travel arrangements, Nina.”

“Does she hate you?”

“Not that I know of. Unless she’s an excellent actress. She’s been with us forever. She seems happy with her job. And if she wasn’t, she could just quit. I don’t see her going to this length just because I don’t keep my travel receipts straight.”

“Personal enemies? Outside of work.”

“I don’t live a life that exciting. Running the company takes too much time.”

“Does the company have enemies? Business rivals who want to grab your market share?”

“Every business has that. But even if I disappeared forever, Tyler and Cesar are more than able to lead the company.” He thought for a minute. “Although a transition could be disruptive.”

“Long enough to lose a key customer?”

He nodded. An angle worth checking out when he got back home. As soon as he had his full resources back, he meant to get to the bottom of this. Industrial espionage was certainly a factor in the oil business. His computer could have been hacked, his travel information ending up in the hands of the wrong people.

But before he could tell Miranda that, new trucks rolled into camp.

The sight of the man who stepped out of the first truck filled Glenn’s stomach with cold dread, snapping his full attention to the here and now.

The commander from Guri stretched his legs and looked around, like an emperor surveying his domain.

Chapter 14

AS RAIN DRUMMED
on the roof, Miranda looked out through the nearest gap in the wall. The commander remained ensconced in the officer’s hut with Roberto. They’d been in there for at least three hours now.

What were they talking about? How to best get rid of their prisoners?

Then the commander appeared in the doorway at last and strode to another hut some distance away. Two soldiers immediately grabbed a wooden crate from his truck and carried it after him. The commander’s new quarters?

“He’s pretty rough,” Glenn warned. “He’s here for me, but he might want to question you too. If he wants you to confirm that I’m really a spy, just tell him what he wants to hear. He has that in his head already. He won’t accept any other answer. At this stage, I don’t think it matters. The most important thing is for you not to get hurt, so we can run tonight.”

She nodded, accepting his logic, even if she hated what that logic required. She hated the idea of Glenn being tortured. She’d never wished that she had a weapon as badly as at this moment.

They sat in silence, waiting for the commander to send someone for Glenn. But the two soldiers who came hours later wanted her. Once again, they left her hands tied as they escorted her out, and took her into the wet woods.

What? Why?
Her heart lurched into a race.

She desperately scanned the undergrowth. Which was the best way to run? Expecting a bullet in the back of her head, she lurched forward, but even as she did, one of the soldiers said in Spanish, “Go ahead. Relieve yourself.”

She stumbled, glanced back, eyes wide, her heart in her throat.
What?
She’d expected a rapid execution. They were giving her a bathroom break?

“Hurry up!” the soldier snapped.

So she moved toward the bushes.
A favor from Roberto in his quest to turn her into a traitor?

“Far enough.”

Not nearly.
But she wasn’t going to argue. She turned her back to the men, dragged her pants down the best she could with her hands tied, and squatted to pee.

They laughed behind her, made remarks about her ass. She ignored them, her mind on escape. Could she take them? The element of surprise would be on her side. They had probably no idea who she was, that she had military training. They wouldn’t expect her to know how to fight.

She straightened, hurrying to pull up her pants.

If she could somehow overpower these two and run . . . But what about Glenn?

“
Alto
!”

She froze when the barrel of a rifle touched the back of her head.

While one of the soldiers held the gun on her, the other walked around, leering at her. Her pants were halfway up her thighs. She held still as the man touched the top of his rifle against the bottom edge of her shirt, slid it along her skin, up and up, bunching the material until her breasts popped into his view.

He clicked his tongue, then winked at his buddy, said something she didn’t understand, probably dirty slang.

She stood still. Nothing she could do would be faster than a bullet.

The man moved the rifle back down, scraping the barrel against her skin, all the way, the metal parting her pubic hair. He grabbed himself between the legs with his free hand and flashed his buddy a bragging look, then a leering grin to her.

She held his gaze. She wasn’t going to cower.

But before she could do more, something furry dropped out of the tree above her, screeching like a banshee. The soldiers jumped back, as startled as she.

They aimed their guns at the monkey, but Winky had already darted into the bushes, gone as fast as he’d appeared.

Her heart clamored from the sudden fright, but she was grinning as she yanked up her pants while the men cursed after the monkey.

Then the guard who’d been messing with her turned back to her, looked her over. “No time now,” he said. “Big man wants you.” He flashed a dark smile. “Time later.”

Miranda buttoned her pants, refusing to let them see her fingers tremble. And when the men shoved her forward, back toward camp, she went. Glenn was right. They needed to leave here as soon as possible. Tonight. As soon as Roberto sent her back to the hut again.

He’d said he would give her time to think. How much time? Was this it? Would he expect a response right now? Her heart sank.

The rainy season was on top of them. She doubted the soldiers would spend it at the training site. They’d want to be back in their well-built, dry barracks before a torrential downpour began. Which meant that Roberto and the commander planned to end the problem of the two foreign spies here in short order.

Some questioning mixed with torture, then a speedy execution. The jungle would consume the bodies. By the time the rainy season ended, there’d be scant evidence left.

Thoughts about how to avoid that fate occupied her mind on their way to Roberto’s hut.

He sat behind the desk like the last time, bread, cheese, and two boiled eggs on a plate in front of him, along with a cup of black coffee.

He gestured toward the food. “Hungry?”

Pride pushed her to tell him to go to hell. Common sense nudged her forward and had her saying, “Thank you.”

She needed energy if they were to break out of camp.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

She started with an egg, eating slowly. “Yes.”

“And did you decide freedom was for all people, not just Americans?” He had a way of turning his words to make them sound so right.

“I do believe in freedom,” she said around the food in her mouth. “But I don’t believe in spying on my own country. That’s treason.”

“Yet, you believe in spying on my country and you think there should be no consequences.”

She shook her head. “Glenn Danning isn’t a spy. Why would he be? He has everything a man could want. Do you understand how wealthy he is? Why would he risk his life?”

“Maybe you should ask him.”

“The information you have on him is incorrect. Someone set him up.”

“Who?”

“Someone who wants him dead.”

“The men he’d met with in Caracas?”

“I don’t know who he met with.” She didn’t want anyone else to end up in the situation she was in.

“I do,” Roberto said easily. “We took those traitorous businessmen into custody yesterday. I have their confessions. Multiple sources corroborate the charge that Mr. Danning had come to Venezuela to gather information on the inner workings of our oil and gas industry, pay off the key players, and sabotage the production and distribution of our most valuable national resources, thereby undermining our country’s national security.”

“Corroborated under circumstances like this?” She gestured at the camp outside. “Or in torture chambers? People will say whatever you want them to say under torture. It’s not a very reliable method of intelligence gathering.”

“Yet your own country seems so fond of waterboarding.” He sneered.

She kept eating. He could send her away at any second. She needed those calories inside her. “Danning is innocent.”

“So you say.”

“Who told you that he was a spy? That’s the guy who’s setting him up, for whatever reason.”

“Every one of the traitor businessmen he’d met in Caracas confirmed.”

“At gunpoint, no doubt,” she said. “Before that. Someone had to have given false information on him or you wouldn’t have tracked him to his business meetings in the first place.” She finished the second egg and drank the coffee, which had gone cold, but she so didn’t care at this stage.

Roberto shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Mr. Danning has enemies who set him up. Or maybe I’m right, and he’s a spy. Maybe you know that, maybe you don’t. I’m leaning toward the latter.”

“If you think I’m telling the truth, then let us go.”

His gaze hesitated on her for a while. “I’m sorry. That has never been an option.”

The food stuck in her throat. She swallowed painfully. “You knew from day one that you would kill us?”

He looked at her with faint regret, but his jaw was set at a determined angle. “If you didn’t find Danning, I would have let you return to your country. No harm done.”

“But once we found Glenn . . .”

“At that point, your fates were decided.” He paused. “Unless I can persuade you to work with me. In which case, I’m authorized to offer not only protection, but also financial compensation.”

She shoved the last of the bread into her mouth since she had a feeling her response was going to end the interview. “No thanks.”

She had nothing but the cheese left, she grabbed that and shoved it into her pocket, hoping to take the chunk of food back to Glenn.

She looked toward the door, but Roberto didn’t call the guards. Instead, he pointed toward one of the empty beds. “You’ll spend the night here.”

She stiffened.

He shook his head and offered a wry smile. “I’m not that much of a bastard.”

“Then let us go.”

He held her gaze. “Even I report to other people, Miranda. That decision was never mine to make. I’m leaving in the morning. All I can offer you is one last night of protection.” He paused. “You are a remarkable woman. I do wish
we’d
met under different circumstances.”

She pulled her spine straight and met his gaze in full. “I wish you choked on your own spit.”

He smiled at that. “I can’t say I blame you, all things considered.” He opened his laptop. “I need to type up my report. You should get some rest.”

She sat on the bed farthest from him. He didn’t look up again, busy with his work.

After a while, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, pretended to sleep while cataloguing the vehicles, the camp, the soldiers, trying to find the weakest point.

She’d come to Venezuela to take Glenn home. She refused to fail her very first assignment.

The commander didn’t bring his electroshock therapy machine with him. Three hurrahs for the fact that the camp had no electricity, Glenn thought as the bamboo cane came down on his naked back again.

Holy mechanical engineering,
that hurt.

“Give. Me. Names,” the commander growled. He’d sent for Glenn minutes after Miranda had been taken to Roberto. He’d wasted no time on niceties.

Glenn gritted his teeth. He needed a moment to conquer the pain before he could speak. “François Englert, Peter W. Higgs, Martin Karplus, Michael Levitt, and Arieh Warshel.”

The cane paused in the air.

“Who are they?” the commander demanded.

“Last year’s Nobel Prize winners in physics and chemistry. If you want to chat about people, we might as well pick someone worth talking about.”

Wham!
The cane came down hard across Glenn’s shoulder and split the skin. Warm blood trickled down his back. Stars danced in his vision.

The interrogation continued.

If he gave an answer the commander didn’t want to hear, he was beaten. If he stayed silent, he was beaten. Yet those were his only choices. If he gave the commander what the man wanted—admission of guilt—he would have been taken out and shot in the head.

Goal #1: Stay alive long enough to escape.

Goal #2: . . . He didn’t have energy for more than one goal.

The questions continued and so did the pain, his back drenched in blood, his skin flayed. The commander didn’t stop until Glenn fell over, sometime around midnight. Only then did the man call for two guards to drag him back to the prison hut.

Every little move hurt like a sonofabitch. But Glenn had a secret that kept him going. The commander had made a mistake right at the very end. The sliver of bamboo the man hadn’t seen when the cane busted at last was now tucked into Glenn’s pants, hidden. He had a weapon.

Miranda was going to be proud of him.

The soldiers shoved him up the steps roughly, kicked the door open, then pushed him in.

Nothing but darkness inside.

He whipped around, his stomach clenching. “Where is she?”

The pain in his back was nothing compared to his panic that they’d done something to her. With a growl, he charged at the guards, trying to knock them out of the way, but they shoved him back, onto his back, the agony enough to nearly make him black out.

While he struggled for breath, they tied him up, then slammed the door closed and locked it.

“Miranda!” he howled her name, but the only response was the guard outside the door telling him to shut up before they came back in and made him.

Miranda.

He dragged his battered body to the wall and lined up his eyes with the nearest gap, but it was too dark to see Roberto’s hut. Was she still there? What was Roberto doing to her?

Glenn grit his teeth, fighting back thoughts as dark and heavy as the night. Fury and worry churned in his empty stomach.

He stayed where he was, lying on his side, and watched that hut all night. He didn’t draw a full breath until Miranda appeared in the doorway at dawn.

Every cell in his brain was awake in a blink of an eye.

Her clothes weren’t torn. She didn’t walk with a limp as the guards escorted her forward.

Glenn struggled to sit, his back on fire.