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Chalisa cried out her protest against the gag, but Nick only glared at the guy.
“Vámanos,” Jorge commanded his men.
They carried her out into the night. Chalisa tried to scream into her gag and fought to get free, but no sound escaped and she didn’t so much as budge their tight grip on her.
She was shoved into the backseat of a sport utility vehicle and men squeezed in on each side of her. Two men were behind her, with Jorge and a driver up front. Nobody said anything as they drove out of her condo parking lot and toward the freeway.
Chalisa shuddered. Horror made her gut churn and her body weak. How had Jorge gotten out of prison? How had he known where to find her?
They took the freeway but exited before too long and drove into a small, private airport. There were a lot of large metal airplane hangars and some smaller planes and jets. It was quiet at this time of night.
Driving through the airport, they pulled up to a hangar. The driver jumped out and hurried to type into a keypad. The massive garage door rose. They drove into the hangar and parked next to a white jet. It was even bigger than Aiden’s.
The men piled out of the vehicle and one manhandled her out. Fighting was useless, but she still tried.
Jorge marched up to her and grinned. “We will enjoy some time together on my jet. I already know where to leave your body, mi belleza. I will keep your Captain Aiden busy for a very long time searching. Leave him some clues, you see. His reward will be your rotting body and knowing I have beaten him.”
He gestured with his head to the jet and spoke some commands in Spanish. Despair filled Chalisa. Aiden wouldn’t find her until her body was rotted away.
Two men yanked her across the cement, up the stairs, and into the spacious jet. They shoved her into a cushioned seat and then sat on either side of her. One of the men strode to the cockpit and rapped on the door. After a few seconds, he tried again.
Jorge settled across from Chalisa, grinning widely. “Not long now, mi belleza.”
That was what she was terrified of. She looked away and prayed desperately. Please help, please help.
The man at the cockpit door shoved on it. It wouldn’t open. Another man stood to help him.
Jorge fired something at them in Spanish.
“Un momento,” the first man replied.
They both shoved together and the door opened very slowly, almost half a foot. The one peered in and then yelled something that sounded like a Spanish curse word. Jorge stormed toward them, and they were all exclaiming and gesturing. Jorge shoved one of the men.
Chalisa felt a stirring of hope. Something was wrong with the pilot? They couldn’t fly to her death?
Jorge stormed back and rolled his eyes in disgust. “The pilot is drunk,” he explained to Chalisa.
Drunk? So they couldn’t fly out of here at least. Did it matter? How could Aiden possibly find her?
Jorge issued a string of commands to a guy seated near the back of the jet. He nodded, said, ‘Si’, repeatedly, and then scurried out of the open plane door.
Everyone in the jet settled. Was the pilot being drunk the heavenly intervention she had prayed for? How could she possibly escape? Maybe someone at the airport would call the police.
Chalisa looked out the plane door. The hangar was brightly lit, but nothing seemed to be stirring in the night beyond.
“Marcus will find us another pilot,” Jorge told her. He pulled out his phone, pushed a number, and started speaking in Spanish.
Chalisa closed her eyes to shut out the horror she was facing and prayed. Peace filled her. Maybe she would die but the Lord would strengthen her through whatever pain she would face. She prayed He would let Aiden know how much she loved him. She despaired that Aiden wouldn’t turn to the Lord to get that message, but then she remembered, she’d already told Aiden how deeply she loved him.
Realizing the plane was too quiet, she opened her eyes and recoiled. All the men were silently staring at her. Jorge most creepily of all. “Replacing the pilot may take some time.” Looking like a jaguar about to pounce, he stood, grabbed her bound hands, and yanked her to her feet. The rope dug into her already-raw wrists. “Come. No reason not to start the party.”
He hauled her toward the back of the plane and what she assumed had to be a bedroom.
She dug in her heels and tried to slow him down. One of the other men pushed her from behind. They passed the open plane door. She tried to throw her weight toward the steps. She’d rather tumble out of the plane and break her neck on the concrete than go with Jorge.
Jorge pulled her forward. Her heart raced out of control and cold chills covered her skin. This was it. She couldn’t get free.
Someone pumped up the plane stairs and collided with the man behind her. They flew toward the wall of the plane and splintered a side table there. Everyone cried out in surprise. Jorge yanked her in front of him like a shield, pivoting to face the action. Three other men and a woman filtered into the plane, guns drawn. One of the men looked like Aiden but thicker.
