Madre de Dios Region, Peru
Amazon Rainforest, Santuario Compound
1100 hours
"Can I do anything else to make you comfortable?"
"No. You've been wonderful," Conrad told Angie. And she had. Ever since they'd all been unpacked from crates yesterday, she'd been the angel of mercy administering to him, the brats and the other dude, who he hoped would soon be dead. Conrad kind of liked Angie and he could tell she was interested in the other guy. It was in the way she looked at the dude and touched him, it made Conrad want it.
What would his life have been like if he'd met someone like her in high school, or even college? She wasn't the cheerleader type, always flaunting their T amp;A and being so picky on who got snatch and who didn't. She'd have been the one in the library studying. He should have read a book more often.
Not that he'd had to do without back then. Some had put out just because he was the football star and for the few dry spells, well, he had some good dirt on one of the cheerleaders and she gave him what he wanted when he wanted it just so he'd keep his mouth shut. Those had been the good old days.
"I don't know where I would be without your help," Conrad told her. "Probably dead. Ever since they blew up my boat and shot me in the shoulder when I fought them after I made it to shore, I thought for sure I'd die." He let tears well into his eyes and then blinked hard and drew a deep breath.
"It's going to be all right." She leaned closer and squeezed his shoulder. Her full breasts jiggled nicely. She was braless beneath her shirt. He'd watched her take it off last night and use it to make a sling for the other dude's broken arm. Hell, Conrad's shoulder was in bad shape, he could have used a sling as well, especially one that had been in contact with her tits.
If the monkeys outside weren't screeching during the night then Collins's damnable brats were crying, making sleep nearly impossible until the din of early morning birds made it completely impossible. Conrad had a headache and the brats were running around, racing their cars everywhere in the set of rooms they'd all been locked in after leaving the plane.
Conrad had decided that when the opportunity presented itself, he was going to suffocate the other dude with a pillow, paving the way for him and Angie. And the first chance he got he was getting rid of those damnable race cars.
"Thanks," he told Angie, and raised his good hand to pat her arm. She looked at him and he thought she was going to say more, but then that other dude groaned from the next room.
"Oh thank God. Rico's waking up." She left, dropping Gardner like a hot potato.
Not good. Not good at all.
He motioned to one of the boys as they passed and they came over to him. They would be the key to getting to Angie. He made them laugh a bit then quietly manipulated them into a doozy of a fight. As predicted, Angie left the other dude and came running to deal with the brats. She scolded them and took their race cars away for a ten minute time out. Good. Very good.
1300 Hours
George did an excited flip and landed directly in front of Collins's sons the moment they were pushed through the door. Both boys cried out and fell back. From the surveillance video of the prisoners' rooms, Andreas had watched the boys when separated from the red-haired woman. She was still beating against the door, demanding that the children be brought back to her when he'd left the screen a few moments ago.
George jumped in a circle and laughed at the boys, pointing at their faces.
"Madre de Dios, George," Andreas agreed. "They are exactly alike." He frowned at the boys because they hadn't laughed yet. George loved for children to laugh. "You like my son, don't you, chicos?"
The boys nodded.
"He likes you too. So you must laugh when he does a trick. You don't want to make him mad. Not yet. George, why don't you show them how you race like a car?"
George screeched and then ran fast across the large room. He jumped on chairs, swung from the chandelier and the curtains as he whined like a broken siren. He ended with a flip, landing right in front of the boys again. One of the boys laughed. The other one cried out and backed up another step. George screeched at him and pushed him.
Andreas frowned. "He wants you to laugh," he told the boy who looked as if he was going to cry. That would only make George sad then. This play session wasn't going as well as he'd planned. Andreas glanced at the time. The CNN camera crew would be here shortly to set up for the Latimoor Live show and he really didn't need George in a bad mood. Why wasn't the boy amused?
"Show them your guitar, George." The tinny sound of "Hey, Hey, We're the Monkees" played as George strummed his play guitar and jumped up and down. This time both of the boys laughed. "Hey, Hey, with Monkey," one of them said, singing along with the song.
The boy reached out and touched the guitar and George screeched and grabbed the boy's hand. "No!" Andreas told George, stopping his son from biting the boy.
Andreas wasn't ready for blood yet. He needed Lauren Collins's cooperation. Besides, he'd want to have a video keepsake of it all and that hadn't been set up.
Now George was upset. He crawled in to a corner and was glaring at the boys, who were now huddled together by the door.
"Fidel! Come quickly," Andreas called.
Fidel hurried into the room and snapped to attention.
"Take them back. They have only upset George! It would serve them right if I just left them for George to play with as he will." Fidel left with Collins's rude children.
Andreas went over and picked up his son and caressed his cheek. "It's all right, mi hijo. I will find you some playmates, don't you worry. Those chicos were mean. I had the same problem, but we'll take care of teaching them some manners very soon. It's money that made them bad. They had more than others. Just you wait, everyone will have the same and you and your kind will be just as important as everyone else. Even those bad chicos. Maybe you'll be more important."
George lifted his head and smiled, baring his teeth.
Andreas smiled back. He'd tell Fidel to speed up with the attacks against Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan and he'd make the call to Lauren Collins tonight. The sooner Andreas got what he wanted, the sooner George would too.
The Angel of Mercy was crying and he would be her hero. Conrad went to where Angie had her cheek pressed hard to the door. They'd just pulled the two boys out kicking and screaming with Angie doing her best to disable anything she could reach and now she was alone and defeated.
Conrad set a firm hand on Angie's shoulder and urged her away from the wall. She needed to have those breasts smashing against him and not cold concrete. "Hey, don't do this to yourself," he told her. "It's going to be all right. We're going to get out of here. The boys are going to be fine."
She looked up at him, and damn, why did women cry. It did nothing but mess up good stuff. Her nose was red, her eyes were running, and her skin was blotchy. "I know. I know. It has to work out that way, anything else is unacceptable."
"Angie. Angie?" The other dude in the other room called out.
Angie snapped her head up and nodded. "You're right. It's really going to be okay. Rico is getting better by the hour." She patted Conrad on the cheek and ran to the other dude.
Jaysus that man had to go. Conrad followed. He needed to make an assessment of the other dude's condition, so he'd have a good idea of what would be needed to take him out tonight.
Conrad stopped at the doorway. The other dude was sitting up on the side of the bed. His bloody shirt was gone, leaving his torso bare except for Angie's bra anchoring the man's broken arm against his chest. The man held his head in his good hand and moaned.
Angie went right up to him and placed her palm lovingly on the man's cheek. "Oh, Rico. Thank God. You're fully awake now? You remember what happened?"
"Yeah. How long? How long have I been out?"
"Long enough to have me on my knees begging for a miracle, buddy. Almost twenty-four hours."
"Where are we?"
"Not sure yet, and don't know who had kidnapped us, but we are in a Spanish speaking country."
"Where are the boys?"
Angie drew a deep breath. "They just took them away, Rico. God, I tried to stop the guard, but…I…couldn't." She started to cry again.
"Shit." The man put his good arm around her and hugged him to her, squashing those glorious breasts against him. "Don't worry. I'll get to them. Help me get upright so I can start getting my shit together. I'll- Who the hell is he?"
Conrad smiled as Angie looked up. Your executioner, asshole.
Angie smiled. "Conrad, this is Rico. Rico, this is Conrad Gardner, a friend of Bill Collins's who has been kidnapped too." She motioned for Conrad to come into the room. "You're just in time to help."
"Any way I can." Conrad moved into the room. It nearly killed him to help the other dude to get upright when all he wanted to do was snuff the life out of the bastard.
The dude wavered wildly, nearly fell back down then forced himself to steady. "I got it now." The other dude released his hold on Conrad, taking a few steps on his own.
Suddenly loud crying penetrated the room. The brats were back.
"Dear God." Angie left the other dude and ran.
Rico moved forward, braced his hand on the wall and followed Angie.
Conrad had never heard such a ruckus. He went with everyone into the living room. There wasn't a scratch on the boys but they were sobbing. Angie had both of them in her arms on her lap. "Tell me what happened, Matt. Please. No matter what just tell me."
"Mean monkey," Matt said. "Bad man and mean monkey."
"The monkey did tricks and the man wanted us to laugh," Mitch said. "Then the monkey got mad. I thought he was going to bite me. He's bad."
"What man?" Rico asked. "Describe him. Did he say his name?"
The boys shook their heads. "He was just a bad man," Matt said. "He called his monkey George. He said the monkey was his son."
Angie gasped. "You're sure, Matt? You're very sure."
"Of course he's sure," said Mitch. "I'm sure too. We give our solid oak, Aunt Angie."
Angie looked at Rico, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. "I know where we-"
Rico pressed his finger to Angie's mouth, a mouth made for bigger and better things, Conrad thought. The man looked around the room. "Hold that thought. The walls have eyes and ears," he whispered.
Well, damn. Conrad hadn't thought about that. He couldn't afford to have a tape of anything untoward surface. He'd have to wait to off the other dude. But that was all right. He had plenty of time, and he still had a chance at the five million jackpot.