and she was completely exhausted herself.
Several times she nodded off in the muggy heat, oblivious to the torment of bug bites. Every time she dozed, she imagined the horror happening again. The hacking sound of the machete and the screams would jolt her awake. If such nightmares haunted her, she couldn’t imagine what the children were going through.
To stop fear from gnawing at her belly, she turned toward the other hostages. Coughing caught her attention. George was getting worse. He’d been shot in the shoulder during the siege at the medical clinic. Earlier, she had tried to help. There wasn’t much she could do now. Infection had set in and with the scent of blood in the air, the bugs had targeted him. She could tell he had a fever and had no way to treat it. She’d done her best to stop the bleeding, but George had been coerced at gunpoint into climbing the mountain trails like everyone else.
The man would not last long in these conditions. He needed medical attention. And she knew that their captors would never allow it.
Voices and laughter near the fire grew louder and more threatening. She turned back toward the flame and watched the young men become more agitated. The blaze deepened the shadows on their faces and made them look more sinister. And as they crossed in front of the fire—becoming more frenzied in their movements—their dark silhouettes eclipsed the light and cast elongated shadows over the hostages.
Kate couldn’t understand what they were saying, yet by the looks they gave the women hostages, the young men were working up the nerve to do something wrong. They joked. They laughed. They yelled and coerced. And she feared for what would happen next.
Two boys were hauled to their feet and shoved toward the hostages by other young men with rifles. The boys looked over the women, one by one. When they made their decisions, they grabbed two and grappled them to their feet.
Kate recognized one of her missionary teachers, Susan Fleming, a single woman in her early thirties. The other woman was older, perhaps in her forties and the wife of a local Haitian government worker. Both women kicked and screamed. That only spurred the boys on. The violence escalated until more men got involved. And the one with the video cam followed the horde to record the humiliation.
Kate’s eyes widened, and she glared at the leader—hoping he had the decency to stop what was about to happen—but he only watched his men with faint amusement.
After awakening Andre and Daniel, Kate rushed to her feet and confronted the leader, who sat on a fallen tree at the edge of the campfire. She didn’t know where she got the strength to approach him, she only knew that someone must.
“Please…stop this. Can’t you see this is wrong?”
He stood and glared at her, eyeing her up and down in a vile fashion as he walked a circle around her. A few of his men, who had remained at the fire, laughed at her.
“Wrong? Who are you to tell me what is wrong?” he demanded. “Your God will not save you, you know. Your life is in my hands.” He grinned, white teeth against dark skin. “I am as powerful as your God now, yes?”
The women struggled against the young men who hauled them away. Kate wanted it all to stop and didn’t know how to make that happen. Her breathing escalated, and she thought her heart would burst from her chest.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.” She lowered her head and fought the hysteria welling in her belly. “These women did nothing to deserve such treatment. You can stop this.”
“Yes, I can. But my men have needs.” He stopped pacing in front of her and stared down. “And this…” He tugged at her tunic. “…this will not protect you from what will happen out there. So do not call attention to yourself…or my men will be reminded you are nothing but a woman to pleasure them.”
She kept her head down and avoided his eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. She had been shocked by his disrespect. Living the life of a nun had sheltered her. She had come to expect civility and deference to her position. Yet here she was nothing.
“Tell me,” he said. “If something happened to you, what would become of the children?” When she reacted to his threat with a choked breath, he laughed. “Go. Sit down and shut up.”
He dismissed her and turned his back. And she shut her eyes, feeling utterly powerless. In a daze, she replayed his words in her head as she walked back to the children. They clutched at her and pulled her to the ground next to them.
“Why did you do that?” Joselyne asked with her eyes watering. “He could have killed you.”
She saw it on the girl’s face—she was the only lifeline these children had.
“I’m sorry if I…” She couldn’t finish.
The two women had been taken into the jungle, yet not far enough away to cover up the sounds of their torment—the cries, the beatings, the howling when each man took his turn like jackals with cornered prey. It made her sick. Through the trees, an eerie light from the video camera flickered, casting its light on images she never wanted to see. She shut her eyes, but that only made the reality more vivid in her mind. The boys had been goaded into losing their virginity by rape, an act of violence and degradation no one should endure. The young boys’ bodies were pumped full of adrenaline, and the pressure of mob mentality had taken over.
There would be no turning back. And no shame for their actions.
“What’s happening, Sister?” Joselyne asked. “What are they doing to those women?”
All the children clung to her. Kate didn’t want to answer Joselyne’s question. She only shook her head. The words—and the horror—were wedged deep in her throat. Yet she had to say something to calm them.
“Time for a prayer.” She forced a faint smile and felt her lips trembling. “Can you pray with me?”
She touched each of their faces to get their attention and prayed aloud. The children joined in, murmuring low. Kate’s body rocked as she held them. She fought the nausea building in her stomach and tried to block out the tortured screams coming from the jungle.
Unable to stop herself, she looked toward the campfire and saw the terrorist leader watching her and the children. His dark cruel eyes held no remorse. He smiled at her and, despite the heat, her body shuddered.
If she’d had any tears left, she would have cried for them all.
CHAPTER 8
The sun seared the horizon and streaks of orange impaled the gray edge of nightfall—that solitary time of morning when words were an intrusion. Kinkaid had met Alexa’s team at the motel as promised. They all knew what to expect and got down to the business of tracking killers.
When they got to the pier where LaClaire had moored the boat, Kinkaid headed belowdecks and loaded his gear, taking over the cabin that had been his from the prior voyage. He wouldn’t need overnight accommodations, but old habits died hard, and he liked his privacy. And having a cabin with a door and a bed would ensure that he had sack time on his way to Cuba if he needed it. Once they landed, there’d be no luxuries like a mattress or downtime. And the last thing he needed so early in the trip was for Alexa to get curious about why he was moving slower than the rest of her team.
He heard the heavy footfalls of Alexa’s men on deck, and the boat engine kicked in. They’d be under way soon, and Alexa would expect him up top. He’d have precious few minutes to himself before the mission to rescue Kate and the others would consume him. And he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the time. Kinkaid took his iPod from its canvas pouch and put in his earplugs. He listened to the digital recording he always brought with him. It centered him, yet not always in a rational way.
With his back to the half-opened door, he sat on the edge of his bunk and shut his eyes. He steadied his heart to a slow rhythm and imagined a different time and place, then pictured him there. He felt the boat lurch as it left the dock, and the water rocked the hull. Nothing distracted him—until a sultry woman’s voice pulled him from where he was.
“I was wondering who had the choice digs.”
When he opened his eyes, Alexa stood in the doorway to his cabin. He saw her blond reflection in a mirror and turned. Before last night, it had been a long time since he’d seen a woman like her. Tall and lean, she filled out
