Chapter 62
You're posting another novel?
Awesome, Granny! I've got my glasses on. Hand me your iPad and I'll read it... Yeah, I can read. Hand me your iPad and I'll prove it... Yeah, just hand me your iPad...
She really didn't say that. She was playing Diva, like Jenn. But some of the other Grands are always looking for excuses to play with my iPad.
Hidden Secrets
Leona Palmer Haag
Chapter 62
Natalie knew more than several days had passed.
Possibly two or three weeks. In a cell with a constant light on there was no
way to mark the passing of time. Occasionally the door opened and a fresh pitcher
of water arrived. Less often a large bowl of food was supplied. She suspected
the food came every thirty-six to forty-eight hours because of the gnawing
hunger and extreme shakes she felt between bowls. Never was she spoken to or
allowed to communicate. She felt like a fish in a tank—always under
observation, but unable to communicate or gain information.
The door opened and Natalie sat on the chair and
watched as the pitcher and commode were exchanged. "I'd like to speak to
my lawyer," she said. As before, the man ignored her and the guard with
the automatic weapon only pushed it closer and hissed, "Silence or
death." She'd grown tired of the sentence. Loathed it.
The door shut behind them and Natalie was left alone
to contemplate her plight. How was she going to escape this predicament? For a
moment her courage faltered. But really, was it worse than the other situations
she'd been in, or did she only think it might be? Even of more concern was her
reputation. It was on the line. If she didn't escape, it would end a long
winning streak that was only interrupted by a few rare rescues by the infamous
Washingtons. Thinking of which, where were they when she really need them? The
thought ended just as quickly as it began. She didn't need them. She had her training,
wits and expertise. That, and the beautiful clip in her hair. She'd bought it
for its potential. After she received strength from her next bowl of spicy hot
gruel, she'd use it. This wretched cell would enter the halls of her fame and
glory as it passed into history.
Only a short time slipped by before the door opened
again. Natalie realized things were different when the guard said,
"Follow." The tone of his voice gave no clue why, but the very core
of her knew it wasn't for something pleasant. Some people thought change was
good—but sometimes it was deadly. It didn't take much guesswork to know which
this was.
Natalie reluctantly rose and obeyed. She thought of
the clip in her hair. Was it enough? She wished she had something more
substantial. A gun. A knife. Wire. Keys. Her shoes. Her tiny toolbox stashed in
her purse.
It was like walking back to the beginning as she
followed down the hall, through an empty office and back to the portico she'd tried
to disarm her captors in. The door opened and she faced the empty courtyard.
The gunman leading the way stopped and stepped aside. The one behind her nudged
her back with his gun and said, "Go. Jaguar hungry." He shoved her
through. The door thudded shut behind her and locked.
Natalie stared at the long evening shadows cast by the
last rays of sun. She leaned against the door and studied her surroundings. She
was in the courtyard the Mercedes had stopped in. She had a fairly good idea
that if she sauntered through the open gate under the arch she'd enter the wild
cat's arena. If she reached the outer wall before the jaguars attacked, she had
a pretty good idea she'd be shot and killed by her jailers. There wasn't much
hope. Then she saw it. What they fully expected her to find. A glimmer of
silver in the last rays of sunlight reflected off a dagger. Her captors wanted
a show. This was a sport. She was the contestant they expected to lose.
Natalie strode to the center of the courtyard and
picked up the dagger. It had a nice hilt and ten-inch blade.
"Go," she heard behind her.
Natalie spun around. Apparently she wasn't alone.
There stood two armed guards. One pushed his gun toward the open gate and
nodded. Natalie could do nothing but obey. The gate shut behind her leaving the
guards safely inside.
There it was. Freedom. A wide swath of manicured
hedges and orderly gardens before they gave way to wild landscaping. It was
perhaps barely less than a mile and a half to where a thin coil of razor wire
topped the outer wall. She stood a million miles from the safety beyond.
Natalie gazed at the peach and aqua streaked sunset.
The soft beauty infused a degree of confidence in her. No one had ever called
her the best escape artist without reason. She turned and gazed at the massive
mansion behind her. The top few feet rose high enough to catch the last
reflecting rays of gold. It looked breathtakingly majestic with the windows
gleaming in the sunlight, not cold and lethal. Her eyes turned toward the
gardens—a maze of rock walls, fountains, hedges, grassy paths and tree-dotted
expanses.
The survey ended and it was time to begin her first
task. Shoes. Natalie hated the thought of escaping barefoot through thorns and
briars. She'd like her diamonds back as well. And her cell phone. Senor Diaz
could keep her handbag.
With quick strides, Natalie walked toward where she
remembered the front entrance stood. Along the way she noticed each security
camera. Within a minute she stood at the base of the red carpet and stared up
at the huge house. It was made of beautiful white stone cut from the local
area. A giant portico with a massive door graced the center facade. Three wide
windows flanked each side. The base windows stood at least fifteen-feet tall,
and the upper level windows were at least as tall. It reminded her of an ancient
castle with a modern flair and the aura of a fortress.
Natalie took her first step onto the plush carpet. It
had a soft cushiony pad underneath. From the lack of water stains, she guessed
it was probably regularly cleaned and replaced. There were three steps,
followed by a wide porch, then it repeated steps and porches four more times
before it ended on the last porch. Halfway up she noticed an inscription carved
deep into the stone above one window. Raul.
Raul. Natalie's eyes raced to the other windows. Roberto.
Ricardo. Raul. Rafael. Ramon. Russo. Each had a name above them. Arching over
the door was the name Carratix. "The Red Devil is Mr. R. There are six Mr. R's," she whispered. It was
a new revelation that sent chills up her spine. Monica had mentioned the theory
that Mr. R and the Red Devil where the same man. She had news for Monica now—if
she ever got the opportunity to share it.
At the massive front door Natalie stopped. She was
ready to begin her escape. She stepped out of her nylons and wiggled her toes
into the plush carpet. Soft and warm from the sun. She quickly bent down and plunged
the dagger blade into the carpet around her feet. Swiftly slashing around her
feet she cut two giant footsteps, then pulled the carpet up. In their place she
left two stone cold holes standing before the Red Devil's front door. There
would be no mistaking she'd been there. It would enrage him. But it was payback
for how she felt about her incarceration.
Natalie swiftly pulled the carpet around her feet,
using the soft red as lining and keeping the black sponge backing on the
outside. She slit a piece of carpet from the far edge and yanked off two long
strings of carpet and used them to lace her new slippers in place. She smiled
at one of the cameras and did a little dance step.
Natalie
expected instant death for her taunting, but it didn't come. Her captors
apparently wanted a more grizzly spectacle.
Step two began and ended less than ten seconds later. She
pulled off her red silk skirt and red jacket and rolled them into a tight ball.
She was dressed now in a black slip and a black long-sleeved blouse. It suited
her much better for camouflage than shiny red as darkness descended.
Step three would be escaping. Natalie wished she could
do it without camera coverage, three jaguars on the grounds, and with the keys
to a car. She retraced her steps to the beginning of the red carpet and sliced
off a twelve-inch wide strip from the end. She rolled it up and secured it with
her nylons and slung it over her shoulder. It might come in handy if she needed
to use it at the wall. With confidence, Natalie headed straight down the center
of the driveway toward the deepening shadows and the entrance gate.
Then she heard it. The soft whisper of movement. She
stopped. Cold. She turned to look where the sound came from. There beamed a
tiny red light at the base of a remotely operated camera.
"Thank you, but I'd rather you didn't
watch," she said. Natalie looked around. A large decorative rock at the
base of a tree would to the trick. She hefted it back to the camera and smashed
it. "One down, and maybe fifty more to go?" she triumphantly said.
Natalie knew her actions had been observed. If the
cats weren't already on the grounds, she guessed she'd expedited their release.
Then she heard it. A noise not as benign.
End Chapter 62
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