Chapter Nine
Way of the Desert
The black sedan roared along the desert road doing 100mph easy. The driver had no time to swerve to miss the tack strip bumper laid out on the road, before he was on top of it. The car swerved off the road and flipped over in a ditch.
Shock at the experience of the crash had all four men within the car acting dazed. The upside down car door was opened and a man was hauled out into the sunlight. His cry of protest was abruptly ended by a sharp crack to his head. The process of removing the occupants of the car continued much the same finishing with a weakly protesting Ivan.
It was hot. In fact it was so hot that it felt like fire upon their skin. The four men became roughly conscious all around the same moment. It was a moment of complete disorientation for all them, as they twisted their necks about trying to figure out what was going on. The scene immediately became clear to them. They were in the desert buried up to their necks in the sand and it was hot!
The sun beating off their faces had already burned a deep red into their pale skinned features. They couldn’t move at all except for their heads. It was a thing of panic to realize yourself in such a predicament.
Then they saw me leaning back against a rock in the shade of a rocky spire. They didn’t know me from Adam, but I knew them. I knew all about them.
I tossed the water canteen out at them but it came up short of the nearest one of them by several feet. They began to scream and curse at me in Russian, but it soon turned into begging. I got up reluctant to leave my sparse shade, as the temperature was well over 100 degrees. I walked up to the canteen and bent down to scoop it up. I took a long drink from it letting excess water spill down my front. They cursed me even louder than before. I pulled back from the drink then and capped the canteen off. I rattled it to show that there was still water sloshing inside of it.
“I’ll give a drink of water to the first one of you, who can tell me the destination point of the crate sent to Siberia earlier this week.”
There was dead silence, as they blinked up at me, all of their expressions suddenly watchful and cautious. They may not want to admit it, but they were all scared. They knew what they’d done and here they were defenseless with someone, who was interested in the subject of their crime. Such men as them are rarely, if ever, brought to true justice and they didn’t like knowing that their time had come. Their only defense was silence at the moment.
“Who wants to know?”It had been Ivan at the end of the row of four heads that had spoken.
“Her grandfather.” Was all I said, but it was enough.
No one would say anything now for fear of revealing too much of their part in what had happened. I got a stick and rigged it in the sand so that the canteen hung upside down from it. I then cracked the lid and the water inside began to slowly drip out onto the sand. There was a collective moan from all them, as they watched the water run away. I went back to my spot in the shade and waited. It didn’t take long.
“I’ll talk! I’ll tell you where she is; just let me have a drink!”
It was the youngest of them that had broken first, even as the others were roundly cursing him out now for it.
I went to him and spread out a map of Siberia, “Show me.”
I followed his directions with my finger. Somehow I doubted the spot he was indicating. It was too close to inhabited areas for the type of hell hole prison I was looking for. I pulled out my cell and called Chantry, even as I watched the young man’s face blanch with fear. Oh he had lied to me all right, but I waited for Chantry to confirm it.
I hung up.
“No water for you.” The young man started sniveling like a crying baby.
An older man spoke up, “I’ll show you the first time.”
I glanced at the speaker. This one was more calculating.
He spoke again, “I’ll tell you, if you let me go. I don’t care about the others.”
I moved over to him and blocked out the sun for a moment so that he could meet my eyes with his. “Do you think that it is because you are in America that you plea bargain with me? This land may be part of America, but once it was the land of the Apache, the Kiowa, and many others. You Russians think you have the market cornered, when it comes to savage intimidation practices, but it was not always so. If you’d come to this land but 170 years ago you would have learned, what the meaning of true savagery was all about, from experts. My ancestors didn’t torture for the sake of causing pain like you however. They tortured in order to see how brave a man was so that they might know whether or not to respect him. How brave are you? Want to find out?”
The calculated look of guile had fled from the man’s eyes and he quickly directed me to a spot on the map. The spot he chose seemed more like it and minutes later I confirmed it was Chantry. I went to the canteen and removed it from its pedestal. I held it, as the Russian drank what was left of it. Pulling it away empty I tossed it into the desert.
“Congratulations, you’ll last longer than the others now.”
He stared up at me in disbelief at what he’d just done to prolong his own torment.
I walked over to Ivan. He looked at me with hatred in his eyes.
I spoke slowly, “You know I don’t like men like you. You get a little power and by your strength gain some measure of authority. Respect if you will. Then you take that power and you use it to feed upon the insecurities and weaknesses of others. You’re no better than a cannibal the way you feed upon your own kind for your own ambition and selfish desires.”
“Perhaps I do what I do, because the weak were meant to be ruled by the strong. It is my right to do, as I please with those, who are beneath me!” Ivan said vehemently.
I rocked back on my heels slightly, as I squatted before him, “Perhaps what you need Ivan is an object lesson to help you see what you’re missing.” I pulled a jar out of my pocket. “Let’s see how you like being fed upon.”
I undid the lid and standing up I dribbled some of the amber colored sticky syrup onto Ivan’s head and then I moved on to the next man’s head and then the next, as I left a sticky trail between each man’s head. Still drizzling the contents of the jar I moved off into the desert behind the men’s heads. Craning their heads half around they saw the giant mound for the first time. Red ants were already beginning to boil out of the mound, as I poured out the rest of the honey on top of it.
The men screamed in abject horror, as they realized what their fates would be. As I walked back past Ivan he begged and pleaded up at me with tears in his eyes. “Please don’t do this!”
I stopped and knelt down and met his eyes. “I’ll bet my Deshavi begged for mercy much the same didn’t she Ivan? Did you listen to her?”
The truth was miserably self evident in the man’s eyes, as he stared at me in sudden comprehension.
“Ivan I am a hard man, but I am not without mercy. However you’re not sorry for what you did to my Deshavi and many others just like her. You’re only sorrowful right now, because you’re not going to live to do such despicable acts again and because you’re getting a taste of your own medicine. Goodbye Ivan.”
I stood up and walked off to where my rented Jeep sat, as nature did its work behind me in its own savage fashion.
Chantry had been right about something. I couldn’t pull off this operation all on my own. Deshavi most likely would need to be carried and there was no way I would be able to fight off the jailers and alerted authorities, who were in pocket with the jail owners, while carrying and dealing with Deshavi. I needed a wing man to either carry Deshavi or keep the others at bay while we escaped.
It wouldn’t be easy then either. Any kind of airlift would be out of the question, as it was strictly monitored Russian airspace. The local authorities were likely in on it and received payoff money to keep the business of the private prison a secret so they would be of no use to go to. The best and really only option left was to make our way overland towards the south. The problem with that option was that Siberia was a vast wilderness and winter was fast approaching.
We would likely have to hole up somewhere for the winter. The winter could be more deadly to us than the prison rescue itself. If we made it through the winter to the spring it would be a testament to the will to survive. Chantry had said that there were agents, who would volunteer for such a mission, but I had roundly refused the much needed help. In all likelihood this rescue mission was a suicide run and my consciousness couldn’t justify the death of those agents in a private war of my own.
To be on this mission one had to be personally invested in it beyond any bond of friendship or monetary gain, which is why I had come here. I stopped the car and got out the sea breeze instantly ruffling my long white hair. I made my way up the quaint walkway strewn with flowers in pots and others trailing along the walkway itself.
I stared at the door for a long moment. I had no right to come here and do this, but in a way I had no choice. I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened softly to reveal Ella standing there gracefully. She reached a hand up to curl some of her hair back over an ear. It was an endearing gesture from the articulate woman and I started to turn away and head back to my car.
I couldn’t do this to this woman!
Her son was all she had. I couldn’t take him from her. I only knew too well what that felt like and I wasn’t going to allow her to experience that private hell because of me.
Her hand caught my shirt front in a tight grip and I stopped. I couldn’t look at her for fear that my eyes would give away too much to her perceptive gaze.
“Caleb has something happened to Deshavi?”
I nodded.
She tugged on my shirt, “Come inside.”
I turned my pained gaze to her, as I backed up a little, “I can’t!”
Her grip on my shirt tightened further and she tugged harder. “Yes you can and you will!”
I let her pull me inside. I could’ve easily broken free of her grasp, but my desperation for Deshavi’s plight was just too great. We set down at the kitchen table and her eyes asked the question of what had happened.
“Deshavi has been kidnapped.”
Her breath escaped her and caring woman that she was she reached her hand out to consolingly grasp mine on the table.
“She’s been shipped overseas. I’m not sure how long she will stay alive. They… Are… Terrible things have been done, are being done to her even right now.” I finished on an up swell of emotion, as tears streaked down my face.
Ella was out of her chair and standing before me, as she pulled my head against her, as I let myself express how raw my pain was at the latest savage turn my life had taken. She held me tightly and cooed in a low voice, as a mother would for a child woken out of a nightmare, only my nightmare was not stopping. After several moments and the expenditure of all my emotion she drew back a little and I looked up at her.
I’d completely drenched the front of her dress, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her own face was wet with tears, but her voice was steady in its clarity. “You’ve come for my son?”
Yes, but I’ve changed my….”
Her fingers covered my mouth stopping my words. “He’s in the back.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know if I can rescue her from where she is, even with his help. Even if we do the likelihood of us surviving is far less than us not surviving.”
She nodded jerkily, “And yet we still have to try don’t we. I’ll wait here while you speak to Trent.”
I stood up, but hesitated to go out the back door towards the beach. “You’re sure you want to risk this?”
She’d sat down at the table and looked up from it to me, “My son is a brave man. A good man. I like to think I had some part in those finer aspects of him, but the truth is that we are who we are by the choices that we make. For many years my son has fought for the protection of this country and its freedoms. He has seen hellish things and has had to do hellish things in the continual fight to maintain that freedom that so many enjoy. I don’t think many people in this country realize at what cost their freedom comes. I do! I fought every skirmish and war my son’s been at in my prayers for him. When he retired early I rejoiced and praised God for it. But my son was like a warrior without a cause. He sulked around here like a little lost puppy dog. I was on the verge of telling him to reenlist, when I decided to try one last thing. I sent him to be with his grandfather hoping that Ted might be able to instill some purpose in him. Trent came back with your girl and I saw the spark of purpose that I’d grown accustomed to seeing back even brighter than ever in his eyes. I am convinced that your Deshavi and my son were meant to be together from the beginning of time and to that end they are to experience what God has ordained for them to have together in this life! I am not going to allow the world or whatever spawn of hell that wishes to dictate a heartbroken future for my son over what was meant to be a joyous union founded before time began! I claim the pure honorable joy of that union for my son and your granddaughter and I will not be moved, as Jesus is my source of strength and the Holy Spirit is my comforter! Now go talk to him!” She finished, as she pointed authoritatively at the back door.
I obeyed and opened the door and stepped out. There was no resisting the faith that woman possessed.
My eyes took in the beach and the sea that was beyond. I saw Trent leaning over a car that had the hood up. I made my way over to him. He glanced up at me from across the engine compartment, as I let my eyes run admiringly over the car for a moment. It was a Shelby Mustang in vintage condition. It was even in my favorite color, which was blue.
I met Trent’s gaze, “You have a very fine horse.”
He smiled slightly and then let the hood down. He leaned back against it, as he wiped his oily hands off on a rag, “Why are you here?”
He’d asked so I told him. I told him in greater detail than what I had told his mother. He stared at me the whole time in a mixture of anguish and anger. I well knew the double feeling of torment myself. We stood there quiet for a long moment.
“Can I have an hour to think about it?”
I nodded.
There wasn’t a doubt in me, whether or not he was going along. The time to think about it was simply code for; ‘I need to tell my mother’. I left him alone then and headed back to the house intending to go on through and wait in the car.
Ella was waiting for me at the door, “What did he say?”
I made a big mistake then as I said, “He needs a little time to think about it.”
“Time to think about it!” She exploded.
She stormed out the back door headed for her son. Oh boy, I’d just blown it up for Trent.
Her shouted words came through clearly over the crashing of the surf on the beach, “Time to think about it! I didn’t give birth to a sissy minded pragmatic oddsmaker! Your girl needs you and if you think I’m going to let you…”
“Whoa hold up mom! I’m going!”
“Oh, well then why didn’t you say so?”
“I wanted to inform you of my decision first.”
“Oh.”
Less than an hour later I was pulling away from the beachside cottage with Trent beside me in the car. I looked over at him, “Your mother…!” I just shook my head leaving the rest unsaid.
“Yeah!” He commented dryly, “She can be a real force of nature when she wants to be.”
Ella watched them drive off until they were out of sight before she closed the door. As it latched she turned her back to it and sank down to the floor inelegantly. Her emotions let loose, as her shaking hands grasped together, as her head fell forward onto them.
“Oh dear God have mercy on us and on poor Deshavi!” She sobbed out, as all her fears overwhelmed her masked veneer of control.