Sophia?
She tried to speak but couldn’t open her mouth. She couldn’t move any part of her body. Her feet and hands were bound with zip ties, and duct tape covered her mouth. She had never felt so claustrophobic before. She struggled to break free, the zip ties digging into her flesh. She moaned in pain. Leila’s heart battered her rib cage. At least there was no black bag over her head to keep her from seeing where she was. A van? Sophia was next to her. She could see her friend’s face clearly now. She was gagged and tied the same way Leila was.
The fact that they were alive meant that their captor had something in mind for her and Sophia. That in itself wasn’t good news. Was it in retribution for what she had done to his ear? Maybe, but she couldn’t let fear cause her to lose her capacity to think clearly. As long as they were alive, there was hope of a rescue. Her gaze settled on Sophia as she wished her friend would open her eyes. But she didn’t. Leila listened carefully. She heard men talking in Spanish—weird, she hadn’t noticed them before—but she didn’t hear any breathing coming from her friend. Sophia’s chest wasn’t moving either. Fear clouded Leila’s eyes.
Oh my God, she’s not breathing. Sophia’s not breathing!
Leila tried to yell, but the duct tape on her mouth muffled her voice. She kept trying, but it did no good. She was powerless and angry. She lifted her bound feet and kicked at the side wall of the van. She only managed one soft thump before a man grabbed her elbow from behind. He yanked it back so hard he almost dislocated her shoulder. Then he grabbed her with both hands and pulled her up to a seated position. With one hand, the man reached for one of the edges of the duct tape over her mouth.
“This will be painful,” the man said in accented English.
He ripped the duct tape off in one swift motion. Her whole body shuddered. She screamed. In response, he slapped her across the face. Tears ran down her cheeks. She could feel the imprint of his hand on her skin.
“Sophia’s not breathing!” Leila screamed between two sobs. “Do something!”
A look of abject fear crossed the man’s features. He climbed over the rear bench seat and pushed Leila over. He removed the duct tape over Sophia’s mouth. The man’s back was toward her, and Leila wished she had use of her hands. She’d try to get the gun free from the holster on his hip or, at the very least, dig her fingers deep into his eyes.
She could spout all the wishful thinking she wanted; she couldn’t do anything for Sophia. Her mind slowed to a sluggish crawl, only able to focus on one thing.
Don’t die, Sophia. Don’t die. Please don’t die.
“Sophia’s alive, Hector,” his man said a minute later. “But she’s having spasms. Her breathing is depressed. The drug you used must have slowed her heartbeat. She’ll be fine.”
Hector breathed a shallow sigh of relief.
“Retape Leila’s mouth, and keep the girls quiet until we get to the airport.”
They were a few miles away from the airport. He called the chief pilot again.
“Is the plane ready?”
“It will be in five to ten minutes. We just started the engines.”
Hector grunted. “I want to take off the moment we get there, and I want you and your copilot to stay in the cockpit. I don’t need a welcome committee.”
“Yessir. May I ask where we’re headed?”
“Nassau.” The pilot needed to know which flight plan to file. “Can I drive directly onto the runway?”
It was an unusual question, but the pilot didn’t seem to care. “Usually no, but if you’re in a rush, I can ask the private aviation clerk to keep it open for you. Would that work?”
“Perfectly.”
“Very well. We’ll be ready for you.”