everywhere. All I can think of are Diego’s words: I did lie when I said the dress was free. There is one small contingency. You have to accompany me on a date tonight. It’s a surprise.
5
Repeating his ominous words, I imagine his grin, the lust in his eyes. Diego has no plans to send me back to America or to talk about literature. He wants to hold me hostage and use me as his plaything for his sadistic pleasures.
I have to get out.
I have to leave.
But how can I leave without being seen? I can’t outrun his men if they’re chasing me in vehicles, and the valley provides little foliage to hide within at this altitude.
I search for a telephone. Nothing. The only phone I’ve seen is the one in Diego’s hands. Not surprising. No one has landlines anymore.
There’s nothing I can do. I’m stuck here. I knew this was a risk when I took on this assignment.
By nightfall, maybe Nick and José will know I’m in trouble. This was supposed to be a quick stop to eat lunch and pick out a dress. They’re probably already worried.
Maybe Nick will come to rescue me.
Of course, I know that’s a lie. No one will come for me. This isn’t the Marines where the motto is to never leave a soldier behind. In the CIA, people are left behind as a matter of routine. Afterwards, you’re forgotten and your identity is erased as if you never existed.
If I’m really lucky, a star with a blank slate will be added to the Memorial Wall in Langley, honoring my stupidity.
I’m hyperventilating.
I have to get a hold of myself. Panicking is never the right response. I’ve been in worse. No, that’s not true. This is by far the worst. Still, I have options.
There’s no guarantee that Diego intends to hurt me for his sexual pleasure. The surprise might be something else entirely. Maybe he wants me to hurt him . That would provide a real twist.
While the levity helps calm me, I know it won’t happen. There isn’t even a modicum of submission in Diego. I’ve stared into his eyes—the confidence and power they contain isn’t a front.
I have to get organized.
First, I need to make sure the mark on my chest is gone. I peel back my shirt and stare. There’s a slither of pink remaining. Nothing that will draw much attention.
I still have the recording device on me, but it only works with the mic. I could tape the mic to my leg except most of the tape’s adhesive is now so weak that I don’t think it would hold. I can’t risk having it fall off, so I’ll have to go the rest of the night without being able to record anything.
Fine.
As long as I get out of this alive, I don’t really care.
I’ll leave the recording device on my inner thigh. Removing it would hurt like hell, and I don’t want to have bulging pockets when Diego returns.
Shoes click down the hall.
Someone is coming.
I see his shadow first.
“How was your afternoon?” Diego asks.
I nearly drop the book.
Get it together Miranda. You’ve been around danger before.
“Great. Did you get everything squared away with your business?”
“For now. The rest can wait. I want to take you to a very special place. Put on your dress. The car is ready.”
Car? So Diego doesn’t plan on tying me up and hauling me down to the dungeon. Whew. That’s a relief.
I change and follow him out to the front of the compound.
Over the farthest peak, the sun is beginning to set. Very gentlemanly, Diego opens the back door of the Escalade and helps me inside. He sits beside me.
“Before we get going, I have a small request,” he says.
He shows me a silk scarf.
“Since this is a surprise, I don’t want you to know where we’re going until we get there.”
“You want me to wear a blindfold?”
“Only for a short while.”
Diego folds the black silk and draws the fabric over my eyes. The scarf is tied tightly at the back of my head. I can’t see anything. The fabric is thick and secured in a
5
Repeating his ominous words, I imagine his grin, the lust in his eyes. Diego has no plans to send me back to America or to talk about literature. He wants to hold me hostage and use me as his plaything for his sadistic pleasures.
I have to get out.
I have to leave.
But how can I leave without being seen? I can’t outrun his men if they’re chasing me in vehicles, and the valley provides little foliage to hide within at this altitude.
I search for a telephone. Nothing. The only phone I’ve seen is the one in Diego’s hands. Not surprising. No one has landlines anymore.
There’s nothing I can do. I’m stuck here. I knew this was a risk when I took on this assignment.
By nightfall, maybe Nick and José will know I’m in trouble. This was supposed to be a quick stop to eat lunch and pick out a dress. They’re probably already worried.
Maybe Nick will come to rescue me.
Of course, I know that’s a lie. No one will come for me. This isn’t the Marines where the motto is to never leave a soldier behind. In the CIA, people are left behind as a matter of routine. Afterwards, you’re forgotten and your identity is erased as if you never existed.
If I’m really lucky, a star with a blank slate will be added to the Memorial Wall in Langley, honoring my stupidity.
I’m hyperventilating.
I have to get a hold of myself. Panicking is never the right response. I’ve been in worse. No, that’s not true. This is by far the worst. Still, I have options.
There’s no guarantee that Diego intends to hurt me for his sexual pleasure. The surprise might be something else entirely. Maybe he wants me to hurt him . That would provide a real twist.
While the levity helps calm me, I know it won’t happen. There isn’t even a modicum of submission in Diego. I’ve stared into his eyes—the confidence and power they contain isn’t a front.
I have to get organized.
First, I need to make sure the mark on my chest is gone. I peel back my shirt and stare. There’s a slither of pink remaining. Nothing that will draw much attention.
I still have the recording device on me, but it only works with the mic. I could tape the mic to my leg except most of the tape’s adhesive is now so weak that I don’t think it would hold. I can’t risk having it fall off, so I’ll have to go the rest of the night without being able to record anything.
Fine.
As long as I get out of this alive, I don’t really care.
I’ll leave the recording device on my inner thigh. Removing it would hurt like hell, and I don’t want to have bulging pockets when Diego returns.
Shoes click down the hall.
Someone is coming.
I see his shadow first.
“How was your afternoon?” Diego asks.
I nearly drop the book.
Get it together Miranda. You’ve been around danger before.
“Great. Did you get everything squared away with your business?”
“For now. The rest can wait. I want to take you to a very special place. Put on your dress. The car is ready.”
Car? So Diego doesn’t plan on tying me up and hauling me down to the dungeon. Whew. That’s a relief.
I change and follow him out to the front of the compound.
Over the farthest peak, the sun is beginning to set. Very gentlemanly, Diego opens the back door of the Escalade and helps me inside. He sits beside me.
“Before we get going, I have a small request,” he says.
He shows me a silk scarf.
“Since this is a surprise, I don’t want you to know where we’re going until we get there.”
“You want me to wear a blindfold?”
“Only for a short while.”
Diego folds the black silk and draws the fabric over my eyes. The scarf is tied tightly at the back of my head. I can’t see anything. The fabric is thick and secured in a
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