On Thin Ice Read Free Page A

Froelich and the kid were going to have to fend for themselves.
    They weren’t guarded the way he was. The members of La Luz knew that neither of them had the skills or the determination to escape, and they had more freedom than he ever had, including bathroom breaks. He’d leave the prearranged sign in the latrine, and if they saw it and followed him to the meeting place, fine. Otherwise he was better off on his own.
    “Put him back in his hut,” Redbeard said. “We’ll move at first light.”
    MacGowan rose, keeping his wrists together so they wouldn’t realize the handcuffs were gone, and Izzy shoved him in the direction of the hut that had been his home for the last three months. He allowed himself one glance over his shoulder before stumbling into the darkness, long enough to see Redbeard pull the hood from the woman’s head.
    And she was a woman all right, with a spill of long, golden hair in the firelight. Unconscious, and better off that way, he thought, turning back to the narrow path. She was going to be keeping all of them busy tonight, and he was going to be able to get out of there because of her.
    Too bad there was no way to help her, but he had his own skin to think of. He just hoped he got far enough away before she started to scream.
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
    The world was still whirling, the noise in her head unbearable, and Beth sank back down on the hard earth, praying for it all to go away, praying to wake up back in her tiny cell at the mission, knowing that no matter how hard she prayed, nothing would change.
    “Get up!” Carlos was kicking at her. Carlos, the little shit who’d refused to learn English but refused to leave her classroom. Clearly he’d had a different agenda. Had they been his hands she’d felt on her breasts, between her legs, as she’d been tossed from car to jeep and onto the back of some smelly animal that could have been a donkey or a llama? She was a gentle woman, who put her money and her life where her pacifist ideals were. If she had an axe she’d cut off Carlos’s hands.
    Someone hauled her to a sitting position, and she bit back her instinctive moan. They hadn’t bothered to tie her up – they would have known she’d be no threat to them – and she put her hand to her pounding head. Blood was matted there – whoever had clubbed her must have broken the skin. She tried to distance herself emotionally – did she have a concussion? It seemed likely. She was dizzy, disoriented, she couldn’t see clearly, and the blow to her head had kept her knocked out for what seemed like days. She’d have to talk to Father Pascal . . .
    The sob that caught in her throat was instinctive, too late to swallow it. She choked it back, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them to make herself into the smallest target available. And then she looked around her.
    They were up in the mountains – she knew that much. As she’d slowly regained consciousness during the long, jolting trip into the jungle she’d recognized the change in elevation, the sound of the jeep engine straining as it climbed higher. She blinked, and slowly things came back into focus.
    She’d lived in Callivera long enough to understand what had happened. Kidnappings for profit were everyday occurrences in other parts of the country, and while she’d done everything she could to keep a low profile, it should come as no surprise that she’d been taken. She couldn’t tell whether they were guerillas or paramilitaries, and in the end it didn’t matter. Kidnappings like this were about money, nothing more, no matter how noble the excuse the kidnappers gave.
    “No one will touch you,” one of the older men said in halting English. “Your family will pay your ransom and you will be returned, unharmed. There is no need to be frightened.”
    Beth raised her head to look at him. “I’m not frightened,” she said. “If you hurt me there won’t be any money. And revolutions need money.”
    The man