Lone Witness

Linda’s POV

This cenote had been truly epic. The cinematography of the girls slowly emerging from the misty depths was a highlight of my directing career, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and start editing.

I stayed back as the others exited the water, getting a few shots from just above and below the waterline. The clear water and high sun through the trees illuminated the sinkhole walls, setting light and shadow in clear contrast. I had my camera in the water, breathing through my snorkel when I heard Fiona’s warning. “Stay here. Something is wrong.”

I hugged the underside of the boulder we were using to exit the cenote, making sure nothing metal banged against it. I was out of sight unless you walked to the edge of the boulder and looked down.

“I wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t recognize the voice, and as a mermaid, I wasn’t in on their werewolf mind link. “Toss the knives and guns in the water, and put your hands on your heads.”

Shit. Where the fuck were the cops we hired? I should have known better and hired some mercenaries; they were more reliable than the police around here. “Do it,” I heard Vicki say. I stayed quiet as knives hit the water near me, sinking quickly towards the depths. There was a louder sound as the gun skittered across the rock before dropping to the water, almost hitting me. I grabbed the barrel just before it sank, tucking it into my belt. I kept the camera rolling, thankful that the shell necklaces they all wore contained hidden microphones.

I jumped as a shot rang out, followed quickly by a body hitting the water next to me. I could see Juan’s face as his lungs filled with water, and he started to sink. With his tanks off and a weight belt, he’d go right to the bottom. The girls screamed, and Vicki’s voice rang out. “WHY? He didn’t DO anything?”

“Our orders were to bring the women. Walk up here single file and into the van. If you resist, you die.”

I waited as I listened to them walking away from me, back up the hill towards our cars. I waited until I hear them being ordered into the van before I slipped my tank and fins off, stashing them in a crevice. I grabbed the rope and pulled myself up to where I could peek over the edge. The GoPro on my right wrist was recording; I didn’t see anyone, so I climbed out as quietly as possible. Our clothes were still where we left them on the rocks, with our phones smashed to bits next to them. I doffed my wetsuit and put on shoes before picking up the pistol again and moving towards the trail.

I saw Santiago’s body, cursing myself once again as I tried to get closer without being seen. I caught a glimpse of the girls just before the cargo van door was closed. I hid behind a tree, using the camera to record the license plate numbers of the two older SUVs and the van. I had no chance to stop them; there were six men, all armed with rifles, and I was one woman with a pistol. I watched them drive away, thankful they hadn’t burned or disabled our vehicles.

I had to call for help, but my phone was dead. I ran over to verify my laptop was still locked in our car; the kidnappers hadn’t disabled or stolen it, only taking the women. I thought about the implications of this as I turned back; they weren’t worried about being followed, or that our gear would provide clues for the Mexican Police. I ran back down the trail, gathering up the clothes and dive masks when I arrived. Fiona’s pocket had our keys in it, so I put those in my cargo shorts before carrying all I could back up the trail. I opened the doors, tossing the bags in the back, and dug out my laptop. It had its own cellular data connection.

Getting in the driver’s seat, I fired up the rental SUV as I opened my laptop on the console next to me. I drove back towards the road carefully, making sure I didn’t get spotted. My computer booted up, and I used a voice command to tell it to video call the person who could call out the cavalry. “Linda? What’s going on?”

“Kidnappers took Vick, Amy, the twins and their security about seven minutes ago,” I told a startled Luna Adrienne. “Fucking Mexican police squad we hired for extra security took off. Six men were wearing black hoods and jungle camouflaged uniforms, armed with AK-47’s and AR-15’s. Three vehicles, two silver Jeep SUVs, and one older white panel van. I got some video, but I don’t know if I got plates. The property owner and our scuba guide are dead.”

“Are you all right?” I could see the door to her office opening and people coming in.

“I hid in the water, and they never saw me,” I said. I quickly told Vicki’s aunt everything I’d done and seen. I reached the gate by the road; when the kidnappers left, they put the chain back up. I stopped behind it. “SHIT. They are on the main road. Just a minute.” I got out of the SUV, taking down the chain before looking at the tracks. Jumping back into the car, I moved the laptop, so I was on camera again. “They headed south from my location.”

I gave her what I could, the address of the land, and everything I remembered. That’s when it hit me. “The microphones,” I said with a grin. “I bought them from the same supplier who does Survivor and other reality shows. They have a GPS transmitter in them; it sends a signal to a satellite every fifteen minutes as long as the microphones are on.” I pulled up the program, sending the address and password to Adrienne as I logged on. “I’ve got them,” I said with a smile. “All four together, heading towards Nuevo Durango on 109. I’ll call the cops.”

“No,” Adrienne said. “There were cops in on this, and there is no telling how high the corruption reaches. We don’t want them to find out we can track the girls. We’ll send a team to retrieve them.” I could see people in the background talking on phones; I had a feeling there would be a big flight of warriors coming down from Minnesota on vacation.

“What should I do?”

Adrienne thought for a minute. “Call the police. Tell them about the kidnapping and murders, but don’t let on you saw anyone or anything. Two people are dead, and we can’t hide that.”

“All right. What about the video I shot?”

“Send the files to me. Take anything that shows the kidnapping or after and hide the memory cards. Once that is done, call the cops, then the American consulate.”

“I’ll be tied up for days, maybe arrested,” I said.

“We’ll send lawyers, guns, and money,” Adrienne said. “We’ll get our girls back, Linda. You did everything you could today.” She hung up, already yelling for someone to get the car ready.

I started pulling memory cards from the cameras I’d collected, transferring files to the laptop, then deleting everything before putting the cards back. Once I had the video files sending to Adrienne, I used the computer to call the police. It didn’t take much acting ability to sound emotional and distraught. I then called the American Consulate in Cancun. They said they would send someone to the scene; I could tell it wasn’t their first time dealing with tourist kidnappings. “If they wore hoods, they are after a ransom,” the FBI liaison said. “There is a local gang that does this, and it sounds like their work.”

“I hear sirens, I have to go,” I said. I closed down my laptop and tossed it in the back seat. When the police approached, I stood by the turnoff and waved them down. Crying, I repeated my story, pointing down the trail to where the body of the owner lay on the jungle floor.

One of the officers moved my car out of the way, as more cars and a detective arrived. He had me show them where I hid during the kidnapping, as one of his men jumped in and retrieved the rest of my gear. “The scuba guide is down there?”

I nodded. “It’s almost a hundred feet down.”

“We’ve got divers,” he said. I went through my story, telling him everything I overheard. I’d hired the police through a local agency, and I gave the detective the details. “We were diving, so we heard nothing until we got out,” I said.

I sat with the FBI liaison as the police continued to process the scene. “Will we get them back?” I asked.

“Your friend has money, so we’ll keep a watch on her accounts,” she said. “The Australian Consulate is sending an agent to stay with Vicki’s mother, while agents out of our Seattle and Minneapolis offices are staying with the other families. If they call, we’ll assist, and I hope to hell that they call with a ransom demand.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then this wasn’t about money, and that’s the worst-case scenario. Your friends are famous, and owning them would give bragging rights among some of the richest assholes in the world. If they enter the global slave trade, they could disappear in some Mideast estate, never seen again.”

“That happens?” I was shocked.

“More than you might think. Sheiks and oligarchs like owning blonde American girls and dozens disappear every year from Mexico. The local kidnapping ring targets both rich Americans for ransom and beautiful but alone Americans for the slave trade.”

“How do they get out?”

“Private aircraft, shipping containers, even diplomatic luggage. When you have money and power, you can own anyone or anything.”

It made my heart ache to think of those girls, drugged and transported overseas to end up as sex slaves. If their new owners were human, they had no idea what they were getting into with those six girls. If they didn’t keep them silvered, they would wait for the opportunity to shift and kill them all.

A dive team arrived, and I briefed them on what I knew of the cenote. An hour later, men were pulling Juan’s body out of the water. The divers recovered the knives and my underwater camera; I’d thrown Fiona’s pistol deep into the jungle on the other side of the road. I thanked the men as I broke the camera down and stowed it in the open case with my gear.

It was five hours after they disappeared before I was allowed to leave. The police put a hold on my passport and told me to remain at the hotel until the investigation was complete.

I followed the consular agent back to Cancun, worried the whole time about my friends. Security was tight, and I had to pass two checkpoints to get back to the tourist area. There were television stations set up outside our hotel when I arrived. A bellhop ran over to load all of my equipment cases and all our bags onto a carrier while I grabbed my laptop.

One of the reporters recognized me, and they all ran towards me to get a statement. Apparently, word of the kidnapping had gotten out. Letting out a sigh, I turned around near the front doors and waited for the cameras to turn on. “Someone took my friends away,” I said as tears streamed down my face. “Please. Don’t hurt them; they are good people. I want them back,” I said.

“Has there been a ransom demand?”

“I don’t know; you’ll have to talk to the police.”

“How did you escape?”

“They didn’t see me. That’s all I’m at liberty to say.” With that, I turned and walked towards the front desk. Hotel security kept the reporters out as I headed for the elevators.

The hotel concierge approached me as I walked. “Miss Cartwright? May I be of any assistance?”

I pulled my broken phone out of my purse. “I need a new phone,” I said as I handed it over with a stack of pesos. “If you could arrange that and get the SIMM card transferred, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, Ma’am. I will bring it to your room personally.” I nodded and headed to my room, followed by the bellhop and his cart.

Looking around my room, I could see the evidence of a police search that must have taken place during my interrogation. I took a quick shower and pulled on fresh clothes before setting up my computer for a video call. Adrienne was in the air. “Anything yet?”

“I can’t say anything except that I have good people on this. I’ll be at the hotel in three hours, and we’ll set up a command center. Leo’s coming, along with Nicholas and a bunch of others.”

“All right. I’ll see you soon.” Whatever she knew, she couldn’t tell me around others. I heard a knock on the door, and the concierge handed me my new phone and my change. I gave him a large tip as I fired it up; I had a ton of messages when it finished downloading. The police still had everyone else’s phones, not that it would do them much good. I couldn’t even get into their rooms, as the police had secured them as potential crime scenes.

With nothing else to do, I quickly texted everyone to tell them I had my phone again and was back at the hotel. Sitting down with my laptop, I started editing everything I had of the kidnapping, starting with the GoPro video I’d taken while chasing after them. I sent the encrypted video file to Adrienne, Alpha Leo, and Alpha Steven.

I ordered room service and continued to search for clues, stopping only when there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Adrienne and four other men. She pulled me into her arms, hugging me as I broke down. “Grab your computer and come with us,” she said. “It’s time to find our girls.”