ESCAPE FROM AMBERGRIS CAYE (21 page)

Zac was sitting at
a table drinking a bottle of
Belikin’s
when he felt a
light tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was the waitress checking to see if he
was ready for another, he prepared to wave her away, then heard a familiar
voice.

“Well, hey Zac.
How
ya
’
doin
’?”

He looked up to
see Charlie, the first mate from Captain Tom’s yacht, a broad smile spread
across his face. Zac stood and gave him a hearty handshake.

“I’ll be a son of
a bitch. Charlie, what’re you doing here?”

“I have a couple
days between trips. Can I join you for a drink?”

A niggling voice
inside Zac reminded him he had a job to do that didn’t include sitting around
making small talk. He hesitated a second too long.

“Maybe another
time” Charlie said and started to walk away.

“No, wait.” Zac
called after him. “Pull up a chair. I have some business to attend to, but it
can wait.” He called the waitress over. “My friend here needs a drink.”

Zac liked and
respected Charlie and was happy to see him despite the fact they had little in
common. “So, how’s the captain treating you?”

The merriment left
Charlie’s face. He shrugged. “What can I say? Captain Tom’s a bastard but he
pays well, so I shouldn’t complain. Besides, who really likes their boss
anyhow?”

Zac nodded his
agreement.

“You enjoying
Ambergris?”

“Haven’t seen much
yet, but it seems interesting enough.”
If he didn’t have to rescue his
brother’s friend from traffickers, it might actually be a nice place for a
vacation.

“Somehow you don’t
look like you’re having a good time,” Charlie gave him a penetrating glance. “I
know my way around if you need help.” When Zac didn’t respond, he leaned in and
added in a conspiratorial tone, “I don’t mean to stick my nose where it doesn’t
belong, but you seem like you could use a little friendly advice. Belize is a
country with two faces; while it’s a paradise for tourists, it also has a
sordid underbelly. I don’t know which you’re looking to experience, but if it’s
the latter you’d best be careful. Around here, people have been known to
disappear into the jungle when they get involved with the wrong crowd, if you
catch my drift.”

Charlie’s words
took Zac by surprise. While the din of the music and club patrons made hearing
difficult, he got the message. He just didn’t know how to respond. On the one
hand, he could use help rescuing Izzie, especially from someone familiar with
the area, but on the other, how much did he actually know about the man? What
if he was in cahoots with the traffickers and he confided in him; what then?

 “Thanks for
the warning, but you needn’t worry. I’m just here for a good time, doing my
tourist thing before I go back to the States.” He took a long pull on his beer.

“Great. Don’t miss
the
Barrier Reef, it’s only a
quarter mile from Ambergris. It’s among the top ten dive destinations in the
world
.”
He laughed. “Listen to
me, you’d think I was some
kinda
travel agent the way
I’m going on.” Charlie glanced at his watch. “Well, I gotta go. Thanks for the
drink. Enjoy your stay.”

He stood, then
hesitated. “If you want to get together, I’m staying at Hotel del Rio over on
the beach.” When Zac gave him an uncomprehending look, he added, “It’s about
half a mile north of Central Park. I’ll be there till the captain’s ready to
leave—for a couple days at least.” With that, he took his leave.

Zac nursed his
beer another twenty minutes, then called the waitress over. “I’m
kinda
lonely and can use some company. Can you help me out
with that?” The girl wasn’t the one who’d led him to the back room earlier.

Without
registering disapproval, she said, “Follow me.” and led him down the same
hallway he’d gone down before. When she opened a door and he saw a dark-skinned
girl in scanty clothes sitting on the side of a bed, he stopped her and said,
“I prefer a
white
girl. You got any?”

She stared at him
seeming not to comprehend his request.

Pinching his skin,
he said, “
White skin.
I want a girl with white skin.”

“This nice girl,
clean. Take bath. Skin not dirty,”

Zac had to bite
his tongue to keep from laughing when he realized she’d misunderstood his
meaning. “I want a
white woman
,” he said slowly. “You understand ‘white
woman’?”

Closing the door,
she raised her hand and said, “Wait here.”

As Zac stood in
the hallway, it occurred to him that she could solve all his problems—or at
least a major one—if she came back with Izzie in tow. Could he possibly be that
lucky?

Several minutes
later she returned, not with Izzie or another woman for that matter, it was Mo
who accompanied her.

 “Well, look
who’s
back. Good seeing you again so soon.” He reached out his
hand to shake Zac’s. “I hear the girl’s not to your liking.” He inclined his
head toward the closed door. “That’s no problem. We’ll get you another; we have
plenty.”

Zac shook Mo’s
hand, despite the fact it made his skin crawl. “She misunderstood. I prefer
sticking with my own kind—if you know what I mean. You got any white women?” He
hoped his imitation of a racist was convincing.

Mo scratched his
chin, causing his flabby jowls to shake. “Hmmm, ah, yes, I know what you’re
talking about.
Lemme
think. We had a white girl come
through a couple days ago, but she’s already gone.”

Zac frowned. “Son
of a bitch! Can you tell me where? I haven’t had any for
awhile
,
so you know, I can use a little, ah, female companionship.”

Mo threw back his
head and laughed. “Why don’t you just close your eyes and pretend their skin’s
white, I mean, wouldn’t it be easier than going to the trouble of finding a
white girl? They’re scarce around here, you know.”

“I’m finding that
out, but you know a man’s got his principles after all.”

Mo hesitated. “I
almost never do this. If my client found out I gave you his information, it
wouldn’t go well for me.”

“Who am I gonna
tell? I just want to get laid.”

The man slapped
him on the back. “Oh, all right. I’ll do it as a special favor for a new
customer. Wait here and I’ll see if I can find out what they did with her.”

“What do you
mean?”

“Well, you know.
Sometimes they take them for personal use; other times, they put them in
service where they do business. I don’t ask questions; just take the money and
pass’em
on.” He paused to see if Zac had anything more to
say, when he didn’t, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

The following day, Zac and Jackson
headed out to the Dias Del Sol Resort about ten miles north of San Pedro. On a
pristine stretch of beachfront, Zac was stunned at the beauty of the place. The
exterior was pale orange adobe, a perfect fit with its tropical setting.

The registration area spilled into
a spacious great room complete with French doors providing access to a veranda.
Lounge chairs upholstered in vibrant red and orange prints along with tables
and matching umbrellas were more than a little inviting.

He and Jackson were shown to a
spacious accommodation with two queen-sized beds, a bath and private veranda
with access to the beach. Spectacular views of the Caribbean beckoned from
every vantage point.

The brochure in the room bragged
that “cable TV, DVD player, a full stock of DVDs, stereo and CDs, wireless
Internet, games and books were included along with the use of a freshwater
pool,  kayaks, bikes and tennis courts.”

“Think the services of trafficked
women are part of the ‘amenities?’” Zac quipped.

“Those’d probably be extra,
kinda
like when you get something from the minibar.”
Jackson said and flopped down on the bed. “What now? How do we even know she’s
here?” 

“We don’t. But Mo said some guys
bought a white girl from him a few days ago. Said he remembers because most of
their ‘stock’ comes from Central or South America, so a white girl from the
States really stands out.”

When Jackson appeared doubtful, Zac
added, “Got a better idea?”

“Not really. All right, if it is
her, what then? How’re we gonna get her out of the hotel—let alone out of the
country?”

“That, my friend, is the
million-dollar question.” Zac glanced in the mirror, smoothed his hair and
said, “Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving.”

They had dinner on the veranda
overlooking the Caribbean. Zac ordered steak served with garlic mashed potatoes,
vegetables and a green salad while Jackson had blackened snapper with white
rice and zucchini. They shared a bottle of red wine.

When they were finished, Zac moved
to a lounge chair and gazed at the peaceful scene that surrounded them. “Boy,
this is the life, isn’t it?”

Jackson gave him a look that said,
“You kidding me?”

“Yeah, I know, I know. You don’t
have to remind me, but let me enjoy myself for a few minutes, okay?”

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten why
they were there; he’d been turning it over and over in his mind trying to
decide how to approach the guy. Mo said to ask for Sid, that he’d bought a
white girl earlier in the week and that she was “in service” at the resort and
would be available as a special favor to him.

If it turned out to be Izzie they
were halfway home—halfway because they still had to find a way to get her out
of there. It wouldn’t be a simple matter of buying her as he had Jackson.
According to Mo, a white girl was rare in this area and would be in demand.
He’d hated to let her go.

The thought of what she must be
going through made Zac sick. Maybe, like Jackson, she’d refused to comply and
they would be only too happy to get her off their hands. He doubted it. They’d
likely beat her until there was nothing left of the spunky woman Jackson had
described.

“So, you just gonna sit there with
your eyes closed or what?” Jackson said.

Having made up his mind, Zac opened
his eyes and sat up in the lounge chair. “Or what.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, you stay here. I’m
gonna find Sid.”

****

Fifteen minutes later, Zac returned
sporting something of a smug expression. “She’ll be in the room by the time we
get there. I told Sid we wanted her services for the rest of the evening.
Amazing how we can charge the services of a slave to our room.” He shook his
head in disgust.

“Let’s hope
it’s
Izzie.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what we’ll do
if it isn’t. Matter of fact, I’m not sure what we’ll do if it is.”

They returned to their room more
than a little anxious.
Let it be Izzie; let it be Izzie; let it be Izzie
drummed
inside Jackson’s head with every step. He was almost afraid to see her.
What
condition would she be in? Had she been brutalized the way he had?

She’d been rude to him, refused to
listen when he told her to stay away from Leon and had been an all-around pain
in the ass from the moment she’d been assigned as his reporter. Still, there
was a soft spot in his heart for her that he hadn’t recognized until it became
clear she was in trouble. Somehow he hadn’t been able to let her go. He’d
risked his life and most likely lost his job for her and now, hopefully, he’d
see her again and somehow get her out of the situation she’d gotten the three
of them in.

As they unlocked the door, they saw
a woman standing near the window; her head bowed in a submissive posture. At
first Jackson didn’t think it was her. Her low-cut blouse and miniskirt left
nothing to the imagination. Her long blond hair was pinned back with some kind
of flowered clasp. What struck him most forcefully was her attitude of total
capitulation. She was not the feisty woman he knew. What had they done to break
her spirit so completely in such a short time?

“Izzie,” he said in a near whisper,
not wanting to startle her. When she didn’t respond, he said it again. “Izzie,
it’s me, Jackson.”

Slowly lifting her head, she stared
at him as if in a trance.

“Izzie,” he repeated. When he
touched her shoulder she leapt back, as if in fear. “What have they done to
you?” he said.

She looked wildly about the room and
rested her gaze on Zac.

“That’s my brother. We’ve come to
rescue you.” He said it softly, hoping to reassure her with the soothing tone
of his voice. “You’re safe now. We won’t hurt you.”

Izzie looked from Jackson to Zac
and back again. Her blue eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

“Jackson,” she said. “Is it really
you?”

“Yes, Izzie, it’s really me.” He
started to give her a hug when she winced in pain. Dropping his arms, he said,
“You’re hurt.”

“They beat me—over and over,” she
said, “till I finally promised to do what they wanted.” A slight smile
appeared, as she added, “You’re to be my first.”

“Enough with the reunion, we gotta
go,” Zac no sooner said that when there was a knock at the door. Putting his
finger to his lips, he said, “Get on the bed. I’ll see what they want.”

He opened the door to find a man
whose appearance said, “Mess with me and you’ll regret it”. A scar crawled down
his left cheek; his nose appeared to have been broken and healed badly. “Mr.
Taylor?”

“That’s me.”

“Just checking to see if the girl
we sent is treating you well.”

“We’ve barely started, if you know
what I mean. We get her till eleven; that’s what they said when I paid for the
room.”

“You do, but Sid wanted me to check
and make sure you’re satisfied. This is her first time out and we want to be
sure you get your money’s worth. We want our customers to have a good
experience at Los Dias so you want to come back.”

“Yeah, she’s hot. She’ll do.” Zac
assured him.

“Let us know if there’s anything
else you need. The kitchen’s open all night so don’t hesitate to order room
service.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Zac hung out the "Do Not Disturb" sign and
double- locked the door
.
"We gotta get
outta
here right now."

"We
can't." Izzie looked more than a little terrified. "They have people
posted everywhere, watching to make sure the girls don’t get away." She
trembled so hard her voice shook along with her entire body.

Zac
nodded. "No one’s on the terrace. That leads to the beach and you can get
to the parking lot from there. Besides who's going to bother a couple making
love in the moonlight?"

"Who?
What?" Jackson was momentarily confused, then a light bulb came on and he
grinned. "Oh, yeah. Right."

"So
this is what we'll do. You two climb over the railing and head for the beach.
I'll go out to the car. If anyone asks, I'll say you want to be alone with the
girl for
awhile
. In the meantime you guys make like
lovers and meet me, then we'll get the hell
outta
here. Oh, and double-lock the door after me, that'll make it harder for them to
get in. By the time they realize we're gone, we'll be back in San Pedro."

Taking
Izzie by the hand, Jackson helped her climb down the incline from the patio
leading to the beach. Mindful of her bruises, he gently encircled her waist
with his arm and whispered, “lean against me and put your head on my shoulder.
In case anyone’s watching, we need to appear to be a couple.”

Izzie
gave him a wan smile. “I can’t believe you’re here. Jackson, thank you so
much.”

“You’re
welcome,
Iz
, but hang in there. We’ve a long way to
go before we’re home free.”