Kidnapped and a Daring Escape (27 page)

    
"Yes."

    
"Even if they threaten to cut you off?"

    
"Yes." Yes, to all his questions. She is completely sure of her answers.

    
She lets herself be pulled down and his lips meet hers, searching,
demanding, and she responds. She doesn’t think she has ever felt so
happy and so secure of being loved. It is a feeling she wants to hold on
forever.

    
"Are you getting hungry?" he asks.

    
"Yes … for you." She feels wicked, surprised by the answer that
crossed her lips without a conscious thought.

    
"Again already?"

    
"Yes." She nods emphatically.

    
He laughs, a contagious laugh, rolls her onto her back and kisses her.

* * *

They ask the hostess for advice on a restaurant that serves good, genuine
local food and is patronized by locals. She directs them two blocks north.
The place has a cozy atmosphere. A waiter conducts them to one of the
empty stalls along two sides of the room. It offers welcome privacy. A
cursory glance around indicates that they seem indeed to be the only non-local customers present. The food is the best André has eaten since
arriving in Colombia. The Chilean wine is smooth and velvety, but has
character. Bianca concurs. They do not talk much. He senses her close to
him, as he has never felt before. Her eyes often meet his, love written in
them.

    
Over dessert, they talk about recovering their luggage from the
Cipriano. He again explains the possible dangers and the reasons why he
must do this alone, that he wants her safely locked in her room at the
guesthouse.

    
"I don’t want to be alone. Please, André, take me along," she begs.

    
"No, Bianca. If I go alone, I’m confident that I’ll be able to elude any
danger, and I’ll make sure that nobody manages to follow me back here.
But if you are with me, I may not be able to protect both you and myself.
They might manage to snatch you away from me. I will be more
confident to keep us both safe if I am alone."

    
"But I’m scared that something might happen to you."

    
"It’s unlikely. I’ll be prepared. Nobody will take me by surprise. But
you must promise me one thing. If I do not return by tomorrow morning,
you must take the plane to Bogotà alone and immediately go to the Italian
Embassy. You may even report me missing to the police there. Not here
in Popayàn. I’ll leave you all our pesos and you have the US dollars."

    
"Oh, don’t talk like this. You scare me."

    
"It’s wiser to plan ahead, even if it’s scary. Will you promise to fly to
Bogotà alone, if need be? Please, Bianca, do it if you love me." He
covers her hand.

    
She hesitates. He sees her close to tears. Finally she murmurs: "Yes,
I will. Oh André, will this ever end?"

    
"Yes, the worst will be over once we’re in Bogotà."

    
"And what about when we’re back in Europe? Will you come with me
to Rome, please?"

    
"Definitely, I’ll not let you out of my grip until you’ve signed our
marriage certificate."

    
She responds with a troubled smile.

* * *

André hires a taxi outside the university and directs the driver to drive
along
calle
5 past the cathedral on
Parque Caldas.
Beyond the park,
traffic thins. He asks him to turn right on
carrera
11 and drive slowly
past the Hotel Cipriano, where he scans both sides of the streets for
anybody loitering around or standing in a shaded corner or doorway.
Several people are talking to the two bouncers in front of the Bar Iguana,
a block away from the Cipriano. A group of four people walk by in front
of the hotel, but otherwise he cannot spot anybody suspicious. He tells
the driver to go around the block and then park in front of the hotel. He
begs him to wait ten minutes until he returns.

    
"I have to charge you for waiting,
señor
," the man says.

    
"Fine, but please wait. I’ll give you a big bonus," André insists again.

    
He goes to the reception. The desk clerk is the same as the one who
arranged the flight to Pitalito. He seems to recognize him. André also
notices that he nods in the direction of the lounge seating next to the
entrance. In the mirror along the wall behind the counter, he observes a
man rise from a soft chair and go outside, while operating a cell phone.
They are waiting, flashes through his mind, as an adrenalin rush courses
through his veins, and the clerk is in on it. It seems too much of a
coincidence for this not to be the case.

    
"Ah,
señor
, we were worried about you," the clerk greets him with
exaggerated friendliness. "You did not let us know that you would not
return from the trip to San Agustin the same day. Did you decide to stay
a few days there?"

    
"Yes, you could say that. I would like to pay my bill and get my
luggage and that of
Señorita
Pacelli who was part of Professor Visconti’s
party. She was in room 211."

    
"Ah, certainly,
señor
.
Señorita
Pacelli has returned also?"

    
"Yes."

    
The clerk instructs the elderly porter to fetch the three pieces of
luggage from the storage room. While waiting for the clerk to find the
bill, André keeps an eye on the mirror and observes what is going on
outside the entrance. The man who left has disappeared up the sidewalk.
Again, André pays with US twenty-dollar notes which the clerk accepts
readily, in fact, eagerly, he observes, certain that the man is giving him
a bad rate. The transaction completed, the desk clerk clears his throat and
says: "
Señor
, there are several unpaid telephone calls left from Professor
Visconti’s tour party. Would you by chance —"

    
"Sure," André interrupts, "how much?"

    
"Thirty-eight thousand four hundred pesos,
señor
."

    
André places another twenty-dollar bill on the counter and asks: "Does
this cover it?"

    
"Yes,
señor
, this is plenty."

    
"Would you please give me a list of these phone calls?"

    
The clerk hesitates for a moment. "Eh, eh … yes, I can do this. It may
take a minute or so, if you permit me."

    
What else can I do? André questions silently, somewhat bemused.

    
At this point, the porter wheels André’s small, but sturdy hard case
and Bianca’s two pieces to the counter. Both are flash products, one a
large, rather heavy
Louis Vuitton
suitcase, the other a cabin-size
Gucci
handbag. André gives him a five-thousand peso note. The man seems
pleased and thanks, nodding twice, before he shuffles off.

    
The clerk passes André the list of calls. He quickly scans it. There are
several local calls, but most of the cost is incurred by three international
calls. From the country codes, he sees that two are to Italy and one to
Switzerland, in fact, to Zurich, which he recognizes from the area code.
He figures that Bianca may identify the Italian recipients from the
numbers.

    
He says goodbye to the desk clerk and observes in the mirror that two
men are now positioned outside the entrance, one on each side. The one
on the right is ‘
le trapu
’ alias ‘
la bête
’. Here we go, he says silently to
himself. He counts on that they want him alive, or else they would
neither be able to recover the loot he took from the safe, nor the prize
hostage that eloped. He has another advantage ‘
le trapu
’ does not know
about, namely that he has recognized him. His best strategy is to go
through the exit door as if he didn’t suspect anybody to be waiting for
him, explode, felling both with karate moves before they know what hit
them, and then get away in the taxi.

    
He grips his hard case firmly in his right hand and Bianca’s suitcase
and handbag in his left. Then he walks to the door, breathing deeply. The
two men retreat to the glass windows on either side of the entrance.
André lets the doorman open the door for him. As he steps over the
threshold, he holds his case back, as if to make it easier to clear the door.
His whole body is tensed up like a spring, ready to explode. He clears the
case past the door, swinging it forward, accelerating its momentum, and
then smashes it full force into ‘
le trapu
’s’ face. A fraction of a second
later, Bianca’s heavy case drops hard on the feet of the man to his left,
pinning him temporarily to the wall.

    
The impact of the hard case drives ‘
le trapu’s
’ head into the glass
behind. It shatters and the man loses his balance. The fellow on the left
cries out in pain and pulls a gun from a holster under his left shoulder,
while trying to step over Bianca’s suitcase. ‘
Le trapu
’ gets up with
surprising agility, simultaneously drawing a pistol from a pocket.
Instantly, André changes tactics. Before either can aim their weapon
properly, he has the second man in a tight hold in front of him, one hand
gripping his throat, choking him hard, the other hand immobilizing the
gun. Shielded by the man’s torso, he forces him to point his gun at ‘
le
trapu
’ and squeezes his hand, making him discharges the gun into the
chest of ‘
le trapu
’. The latter fires his pistol at the same time. André feels
the convulsion of the fellow he is holding. He lets him slide to the
ground. The whole fight is over in less than four seconds.

    
A quick glance tells him that neither of the two will make another
move soon. A black object slipped from ‘
le trapu’s
’ pocket when he
collapsed. My iPhone flashes through André’s mind. He picks it up and
then quickly grabs the three pieces of luggage and runs to the taxi. A
third man is standing next to it. He also has his gun drawn, pointing it at
the driver, but his attention is directed toward what is happening at the
entrance, partially hidden from view. The driver, seemingly taking
advantage of that inattention, starts the engine, clearly intent on getting
away. André slams his hard case into the man’s head. He falls backward.
The gun slithers along the pavement into the gutter. The taxi driver
hesitates long enough for André to rip the door open. He throws all three
pieces onto the backseat, jumps into the already moving car, and slams
the door, shouting: "To the bus terminal, quick."

    
As the taxi speeds away, he sees the third man run off, just as the
doorman and the desk clerk rush out of the hotel, both bending over the
two men lying on the steps up to the entrance.

    
No vehicle seems to pursue the taxi. André begins to breathe more
calmly, letting his pulse slow down, and checks periodically for any
pursuers, but nobody follows them. He watches the driver several times
brush his hand through his hair. Whenever their eyes meet via the rear
mirror, the man quickly looks away. His face twitches nervously.

    
André pays him at the bus terminal, with a twenty-dollar bill as a tip.
The man’s hands are shaking as he takes it and then he immediately
drives off. Again André checks for any vehicle that may have followed
them, but all either drive past without slowing, or they stop, letting
somebody get out that walk into the building. He now hires another taxi
to bring him back to the university.

    
It is only now that the full impact of his actions hits him. In all
likelihood, he caused two people to be seriously wounded, possibly even
killed. He searches his mind for any emotional reaction — guilt, regret,
or even only a degree of unease, but cannot find any. These two intended
to take him hostage again. They might have tortured him to reveal the
whereabouts of Bianca and the money. They would have killed him
afterward without even blinking an eye. He simply did what he had to do
to survive. They were scum that did not deserve to live.

* * *

Bianca is sitting on the bed. She has been sitting there for the last half
hour, wringing her hands to stop them from trembling. Although André
promised not to be reckless, she knows that what she considers reckless,
he sees as a trifling incident. She checks her watch for the tenth time. A
bare two minutes have past since the last time. He should be back by
now. Even walking he could have made it there and back. She hears
footsteps in the corridor outside and goes closer to the door. But the
footsteps continue past the room. Shaking, she sits down again.