How could she lift while on her back with her hands tied behind her? The answer was obvious, put her knees on the underside of the bed, instead of on the floor. It might work if she moved under the bed, and then scooted towards the post until her knees were bent upward as far as possible.
Footsteps sounded outside the room. Katie stopped. She lay still, parallel to the bed.
The door opened. A man with an ugly gash on his neck wobbled into the room.
Had Jennifer injured this man?
“I see your wrists aren’t bleeding yet.” His voice was hoarse. “Maybe our blonde princess is smarter than our million-dollar baby… or a whole lot dumber. After all, you
are
a blonde.” The man’s hoarse laugh sounded like he was choking. The laugh ended in a coughing spasm that sent him to a chair to recover.
Katie lay on the floor breathing rapidly through her nose. But that was becoming more difficult as her allergies turned her body against itself, narrowing all of her breathing passages.
The man stood after he had recovered. “You’re not going anywhere. But I’ll be back to check on you, so don’t get any ideas.” He glared at her. “No one’s going to kick me again,” he growled as he left the cabin.
So Jennifer
had
injured this man. In so doing, maybe she had made it easier for Katie to disable him.
The cigarette smoke was taking its toll on her entire breathing apparatus. She began wheezing, and that made her grow panicky again. She needed air. She needed to breathe through her mouth. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t!
The room seemed to close in on her. She thrashed on the floor as her nose became stuffy from the heavy concentration of smoky allergens.
I can’t breathe. I’m going to suffocate!
Though it seemed it might also suffocate her, Katie slid her head under the bed. She raised her head until her cheek pressed into the fabric covering the underside. She tried to rub the tape off from her mouth by twisting her head.
It didn’t work. Her breathing turned to rapid panting. Then her nose became blocked. She tried to blow it. That didn’t work.
Katie was dizzy. The room spun wildly, out of control. She ground her cheek into the underside of the bed, raised her head using all of her neck strength, and twisted violently, raking her cheek across the fabric.
Skin rasped from her cheek.
No. It was the tape ripping off from her skin. She had snagged a loose corner of the tape.
Now her vision grew gray and fuzzy, as only a small amount of air reached her lungs with each attempt to draw a breath.
Katie’s strength drained until it was nearly gone. In desperation, she cocked her head and twisted her neck one last time. The tape peeled off from half her mouth.
She lay on her back gasping, sucking the life-sustaining air of planet Earth into her lungs, and then expelling it as fast as she could through the side of her partially opened mouth.
In a few moments, the room came into focus. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins, but the panic had subsided.
Another twist of her head left the tape stuck to the underside of the bed.
She realized she couldn’t have done that on her own, especially after panicking so badly.
I was so scared I didn’t even think about praying. Thank You for helping me, anyway
.
The incident that should’ve left her in terror seemed, instead, to give her confidence. She wasn’t alone in her effort to escape. Katie recalled her plan to use her knees. The plan the injured man had interrupted.
She created a mental picture of how this would work to free her from the bed. Then she slid under the bed and scooted her body directly towards the post which her bound ankles straddled. As she moved closer, her knees bent upward but her feet remained flat on the floor.
When her knees reached their maximum height, she lifted them. The bed raised a couple of inches off from the floor. Unfortunately, her ankles did also.
She couldn’t work the restraints under the post to free herself from the bed unless her feet remained on the floor while the corner post raised about four inches. How could she make that happen? She sent another prayer heavenward.
Katie recalled the sit-ups the softball coach made the team do during training. Sit-ups with their knees bent.
Katie tried one and her forehead rose until it pressed hard against the underside of the bed. She tried again. Her forehead and knees together lifted the corner of the bed six inches. Katie put all her strength into the next sit up. As the bed lifted, she scooted her heels towards her rear end. Her feet slid free from the bed post.
When she relaxed from the exertion, the bedpost thumped on the floor. She prayed the noise wouldn’t attract attention.
Her relaxation made her aware of the pain coming from the back of her head. It was lying on a hard, uncomfortable object. She slid her upper body out from under the bed, swung her feet around where her head had been, and swept the object out into the light.
It appeared to be half of some ceramic container. A bowl? No, an ashtray. The broken edge looked sharp. Jennifer must have left this. Unknowingly, Jennifer had provided Katie a way of escape.
The sound of a helicopter grew loud, so loud the yacht pulsated with each wop of the rotor. There were voices outside. Someone barked out commands.
The popping of automatic weapons came from the deck. Two or three guns had fired. Then the sound of the helicopter faded. The authorities must be pressuring the people on the yacht.
She was their hostage. Katie knew what this situation meant.
This is when they drag the hostage onto the deck.
She had to hurry. How could she free her hands? First, they had to be in front of her.
Katie rolled onto her knees, extended her long, athletic arms, forced them over her rear end, and then rocked onto her back. She bent her knees to her chest and worked her hands over her feet, one foot at a time.
With her hands in front of her, she grabbed the ceramic shard, jammed it between her feet, and sawed on the wrist restraint. In a few seconds it broke.
The sound of more shots came from outside. Running feet pounded the deck. One set of feet approached her door.
Katie sawed furiously on her ankle restraints. The first one broke.
A man stopped outside her door.
She prayed it was the coughing, injured man.
“I’ll get her,” the voice hissed.
Not Snake. Please not him.
The last ankle restraint popped in two. Her right hand grabbed the broken ashtray. When she stood, an overstressed calf muscle cramped hard. She didn’t need this. Not now.
The door opened partway.
Katie shoved the heel of the cramping leg away from her body, pulling out the charley horse in the process. Her left leg launched her body towards the door.
Snake’s skinny head appeared. Its triangular shape reminded Katie of a viper. His eyes widened as Katie’s right foot delivered a crushing karate stomp, dead center on the man’s face.
His nose flattened. Blood splattered the wall beside the door. Snake grunted and hissed out the dregs of his revolting vocabulary.
Katie gasped when he lunged at her.
31
Lee stroked Jennifer’s head. His heart ached for her.
She clung to him. “Lee, they can’t have Katie. I won’t let them have Katie. I’ll—”
He lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “Let’s pray that God and Katie won’t let them have Katie.”
“I’m on it.” Bertha Renner’s intense voice came from across the room.
“Thank you,” Jennifer said as she choked back a sob. “But I’ve got to know how Katie is.”
Lee shook his head. “We probably can’t find out right now. But if Granddad is still in the rented boat he—”
“I’ve got to know
something
.” Her pleading brown eyes ripped at Lee’s heart. “Call him, Lee. Please.”
Before he could pull his cell from the pocket of his cargo shorts, it rang. He knew who it was before looking at the caller ID. He checked it anyway for Jennifer’s sake. “It’s Granddad.”
He put the cell to his ear. “Lee, is she OK?” Granddad’s excited voice sounded loudly above the idling boat motors in the background.
“She’s standing beside me, and she’s fine.”
“What about the Iranians?”
“One was shot. The other has head injuries. They’re both in police custody and on the way to the hospital.”
“Lee, what did you do? Probably more than you should have.”
“I didn’t do much. Delayed until the police—”
Jennifer snatched his cell. “He saved my life, Granddad. We’re in the room of the woman who saw me abducted and started the Amber Alert, Mrs. Renner. But we want to know about Katie. What’s happening on the yacht?”
The sound of the boat motors died. Jennifer turned on the cell’s speakerphone.
“There are two Coast Guard boats here, a police boat, two helicopters, and the shore is lined with police. They made me move away, about a mile to the north. But I’ve got Lee’s high-power binoculars.”
Granddad didn’t answer Jennifer’s question, not directly, and he made no mention of Katie. Lee wasn’t sure how to read that, but avoiding Jennifer’s question was
not
a good sign.
“Have you seen Katie?” Jennifer had cut to the chase. Evidently her patience was gone.
“No,” Granddad said. “I haven’t seen Katie. But I think I know where she is. The second cabin on the port side. I’ve seen men go in and come out. But since the authorities made me move my boat, I can’t see that side of the yacht.”
“That’s the room where they put me. Katie won’t tolerate it very well. It’s a smoker’s room. This isn’t good.” Her twin frown lines deepened.
Lee leaned close to the phone. “Granddad, tell us what the boats and the choppers are doing. At some point the authorities will give the goons an ultimatum, then move in if they don’t surrender.”
Granddad’s sigh was audible through the phone. “The goons, as you called them, haven’t surrendered. I heard a few gunshots. Then one helicopter backed off. But three of the boats are moving closer now. I saw some strange weapons on two of the boats. Scary looking weapons.”
Jennifer’s body grew rigid. “But they’ll try to negotiate Katie’s release first, won’t they?”
Lee was certain Jennifer knew the ground rules for a hostage situation. They would order them to release Katie. It would be an ultimatum with little room for negotiation. Unless Katie’s captors wanted to dialogue and indicated they wanted to avoid a gun battle, the scary looking weapons would probably be turned on the yacht.
Since the traffickers had already fired on the chopper, the “capture” scenario could be implemented at any moment.
“Another police boat has moved into position. On the back side of the boat, hidden from the yacht, three men wearing tanks just entered the water.” Granddad’s voice lost its usual calmness.
Men in the water. Men like Navy SEALs? Maybe “capture” included a plan to rescue Katie.
“Jenn, we need to pray for Katie. Now.”
Her eyes widened. “Come on. Let’s go down to the beach before—”
“I’m not sure they’ll let us on the beach. It’s too near the yacht. Besides, we don’t have binoculars. We wouldn’t be able to see anything.”
“There’s an observation area in the hotel. You can see everything for miles.” Mrs. Renner smiled when he and Jennifer turned towards her. “And I have a pair of binoculars. Brought them for whale watching.” She opened the guest guide for the Grand Wailea Resort and turned to a diagram of the facility. “The observation area is right here.”
Jennifer grabbed the binoculars Bertha Renner had fished out of her beach bag. “Thanks. Let’s go, Lee. I need to see. I need to know.”
“Granddad, Jenn and I are moving to an observation deck in the resort. We have binoculars. We’ll call you in a bit. Pray for Katie. Bye.”
Jennifer hooked his arm and pulled him towards the door. “Thanks again for taking me in and for your prayers, Mrs. Renner.”
“Honey, it was no problem. Now you go help them find your little girl, and I’ll continue to pray.”
Lee and Jenn ran as soon as they were out the door.
From the observation deck, they could see the whole drama unfolding. But Bertha Renner’s binoculars were wide-angle, for sighting whales. They weren’t high powered. The panorama they could see well. But the small details were hidden by the distance.
While Jennifer trained the binoculars on the yacht, Lee visually scanned the shoreline near Wailea Point. For three or four hundred yards, the beach was cordoned off. On the point, he saw two men with sniper’s rifles. “Capture” was cocked and aimed. Lee prayed that the Coast Guard, Peterson, and the Maui Police Department had planned well, and that they had given Katie a chance to survive what was coming in the next few minutes.
32
Over the past five minutes, the boats surrounding his yacht had drawn closer. Two helicopters flew a tight circle around them. Franklin James pulled the binoculars to his eyes and peered through a small crack towards Wailea Point. Two men with rifles. Snipers.
He moved to the port side. The police boat was only four hundred yards away. He stepped into the doorway of the cabin where the others had congregated, turned towards the police boat, and focused his binoculars on it.
“Snipers!” James yelled the word and dropped to the deck.
Chaos broke out in the cabin as Snake, Mack, and the Captain dove to the floor near the back wall.
James slammed the cabin door behind him, crawled to the storage bin, snagged the diving gear with one hand, and gently rolled off the deck. After grabbing the ladder with his free hand, he swung his legs downward to the ladder. He took two quick steps down the ladder then jumped into the water.
As he sank into the warm blue water, he ripped off his shoes and started the air flowing. He cleared the water from the hose and slid his lips over the mouthpiece. The closed-circuit rebreather would give him three hours if he needed it, and with the water cleared, this apparatus would produce no telltale bubbles.