Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo (42 page)

 Abbi felt deeply
grateful.

“Did you notice
Calista’s teardrop?” she asked.

“Yes, and we know
why she has it. At this point, we have enough documentation to prove not only
this incident but also the other case against her,” he said. “Her age at the
time might be an issue, but given the severity of the crime, and her recent
career path, I doubt it.”

 The furniture of
the temporary headquarters had changed slightly since the night before. More
desks and monitors were installed as well as a collection of various communication
devices.

Before Abbi ate,
she was directed to an isolated chair so that her leg would be safely out of
the way. She was placed near a monitor to watch. Big Sam brought her some food
and sat near her at a phone. Lowell had retreated to a corner, smiling but particularly
quiet while he listened in on the negotiations.

Three more people
arrived. Abbi didn’t know them but they appeared to be key players in
negotiations. She couldn’t tell by their tone how things were going. She stayed
in character as Miss Kowalski. These people didn’t seem to attach any meaning
to her name and Abbi realized they were being led to believe that she was a
contracted stuntwoman. Abbi looked around. Mr. Pelletier was no longer in the
room.

During a quiet
period in the negotiations, Big Sam looked at Abbi and said, “You amaze me.
Your willingness to dig for the information and get out and do the work is
rare. I want you to know, Miss Kowalski, that following you has led me on a joy
ride I will never forget!”

“It’s been quite a
ride!” Abbi agreed.  She looked at him and tried to grin, but something deep
and dark gnawed at her insides. Negotiations had become much too quiet.

“Sam, ask them
what’s holding up Mom’s release,” Abbi pleaded

Big Sam came back
to Abbi to report that they wanted Nuestra Madre to admit responsibility for
the attempted bombings and they had refused.

“What?! They said
Nuestra Madre? Those are the wrong people! I thought we’d covered that ground. Of
course they refused. This isn’t NM. There’s no way. It’s not what they do!”
Abbi said, angry and talking fast. This misconception was costing time and
might prove deadly.

Big Sam said,
“Hold everything!”

“Listen and please
get this across to these negotiators, Sam. According to Miss Shoe’s report,
Nuestra Madre is all about human rights and they try to work through a popular
movement with the people who are being down-trodden by a non-caring government.
They work for people who don’t have their basic needs. Not everything they do
is legal, but they would never bomb The House of the Americas. They share
similar goals, for Heaven’s sake! They see the OAS as a way to accomplish the
same means, although it’s a slower diplomatic
approach
as opposed to their peaceful revolution. And, NM doesn’t use suicide bombers.
They need all the workers they can get. That’s why they resort to some ruthless
ways of getting bringing in at-risk kids! In my opinion, based on Mom’s
research, NM would not be out to destroy the Organization of American States.”

“Well, no wonder
talks broke down. I’ll see what I can do,” Big Sam said. “What about NM2?”

“Find out if these
negotiators know ANYTHING about NM2! I feel like we’re starting over. Wait.
Maybe I’d better do it.”

“At the risk of
repeating everything, let’s get them up to speed,” Big Sam said. “These new
people seem to have a huge misunderstanding.” He motioned for the negotiators
to come to Abbi.

Feeling like she
was constantly on auto-rewind, Abbi explained the differences to the
negotiators, using vegetables on her plate to show the breaking away of NM2.

“Please listen.
I’m sitting here with a plate of raw vegetables. They were all NM for a little
while. Now imagine these carrots. They’re young and hot-headed. They want more
money. They think their way is better than the old way, so they’re getting into
all sorts of things that don’t have anything to do with a peaceful human rights
movement but everything to do with making money fast. They started getting in
trouble and left NM. They don’t work for NM anymore, and they have started
their own horrible but wealthy gangs in cities all over the United States and
other places. They do anything for money. Anything. They are NM2.”

Several people
gathered around Abbi as she spoke on the phone and manipulated raw vegetables
on her plate.

That visual seemed
to do it. Within the hour, apologies were made and negotiations picked back up.
For awhile it seemed that mix-ups were a thing of the past and that progress
was being made. It should be a simple matter to get her mother released. Abbi
waited and watched. She kept hoping her mother would simply walk through the
door.

Although Abbi was
tired from a huge day and little sleep the night before, she didn’t want to
miss a thing. She looked at Louise who was oblivious to all that had happened
in the past two hours. Abbi had to laugh. It looked like Louise was planning
her own undercover work. Mademoiselle Soufflé was intent on texting in a corner
of the room.

The tall man was
curious about Calista’s involvement with NM2, since nothing in Miss Shoe’s
report mentioned her. He came over to ask Abbi and Big Sam about her.

“Calista had hopes
of making it to the top of NM2. She told me she thought doing an act of revenge
for NM2 would seal the deal,” Abbi said. “As if they would boost her right up
the career ladder! What was she thinking?!”

Lowell looked up
from his monitor.

“That girl
definitely has an entrepreneurial spirit,” he said. “Did you know Calista had both
a modeling business and a personal escort service? Can you make it into NM2
leadership simply by owning your own business?”

“It’s much more
sinister than that, Lowell,” Big Sam said. “We believe Calista was scouting
college campuses for girls who couldn’t make ends meet. She put some of them to
work for her. Others, she sold to NM2. Once Calista got involved with NM2, she knew
that she had to kill or be killed.”

“Why?” Lowell
asked.

“Because they made
a deal with her, and because you can’t just leave NM2. That was part of the
problem with Miss Shoe. NM2 found out that Miss Shoe had infiltrated them,
posing as an NM2 member from another area, and was not what she appeared to be.
That’s why they sent Calista to get Abbi, but as you see Abbi’s still very much
alive. And that’s why they’re still holding Miss Shoe. They’re waiting for word
that Abbi is dead. Calista can’t call them and tell them otherwise.”

Abbi was stunned, absolutely
silent. It seemed that everyone was silent now, their eyes on her.

All of a sudden
she realized why talks of a release had come to a standstill. They had their
money. That’s not all they wanted.

“Someone call
them and tell them I’m dead!”

“It would have to
be Calista.”

“Get my mother
out! You know exactly where she is. Just get her out of there!” Abbi yelled.

“That’s our next
step,” Big Sam said.

            That night Abbi slept
alone in the roll-out bed to prop her leg up.

The next day was a
day of rest for her. When she went over to headquarters, wearing her torn sweat
pants, and saw that most of the negotiators were gone. Louise was texting. Lowell
was there, looking ashamed.

            “How are things?” she
asked.

Some doughnuts and
juice were on the table. She helped herself. Lowell came over to talk.

            “Slow. I feel stupid. I
made some big mistakes in judgment.”

“We all made
mistakes, Lowell. Being here—getting to help out, doing the drop, seeing my dad—they’ve
made me stronger, in spite of the mistakes I made. And you taught me some moves
that even Calista didn’t know. You are probably responsible for saving my
life!”

Abbi looked at
Lowell, smiled, and then continued, “The work has been exciting, actually
exhilarating!”

“You’re not mad at
me?”

“I’m not mad at
you anymore than I’m mad at my own father. I understand. ”

Lowell gave her a
long hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re adorable!”
he said. He left her and walked over to Big Sam who was on the phone again.

Abbi and Louise
decided to take in the spy museum again to see some displays they hadn’t seen
before. Actual outfits, photos, news reports and props of some famous spies
filled glass cases. Famous people, known for the contributions they had made in
other lines of work, sometimes filled the role of spy in service to their
country. Abbi was amazed at the early coding devices and how painstakingly
difficult it must have been to break codes, and she gained a greater respect
for the dangerous work of espionage.

Louise and Abbi
decided to get out without notifying anyone, eat at a nearby deli, and enjoy some
of the hustle and bustle of the city. No one needed them at headquarters but,
if Big Sam wanted them, they were on a short leash and he had their number.

Abbi listened
intently as Louise talked about Scott, who seemed, the way Louise told it, as
taken in by Louise as she was of him. Although Abbi wanted to mention Lowell
and how she felt around him, that was just weird with Louise being her best
friend. Besides, Abbi had mixed feelings about Lowell. Maybe later on, they
could double date. A pleasant thought, but she kept it to herself. So far, Abbi
wasn’t sure if Lowell really liked her or if he was just being polite. For that
matter, did she really, deep down, like him much? If finding out about Calista
had been a shock to him, he should try to imagine what it was like for her.
Lowell didn’t really apologize for putting Abbi’s life on the line. He was too
busy licking his own wounds.

Abbi and Louise
returned to the museum’s gift shop, very much aware of Shoe Clerk’s quiet
presence. She smiled at him, aware that the powers-that-be must still be
concerned about her safety.

A little gadget
for coding and decoding caught Abbi’s eye. She bought two, one for her and one
for Lowell. This would add a new level to texting if he was into it. If not,
maybe he’d hand it off to his sister. Either way, she would learn more about
him. They stayed at the gift shop until closing time, trying to learn about all
the gadgets.

Louise was good
about helping Abbi get through passages. They carefully returned to Missing
Shoe Headquarters to find people asleep at the monitors. Things were definitely
quiet. Some people rested at their monitors with their heads on their arms,
trying to catch some rest. These people had been up all night.

Big Sam, Lowell,
Scott and Mr. Pelletier were no longer there.

One of the
negotiators gave Abbi two thumbs up and told her to stay close.

Abbi walked down a
hallway past the restroom and noticed a spare room with some cots crammed
together, barely room to walk between them, with stacks of haphazardly-placed
blankets. Someone had started packing things up. That looked promising. Making
her way to one of the cots in the corner, she quickly dozed off, not caring who
had slept there before her.

When she woke up,
she heard the abrupt sound of a processional. Lowell’s trumpet blared loudly,
reminding Abbi of the crowning of the homecoming queen at her high school last
year. But today, this meant something entirely different. Someone had an important
announcement.

Abbi darted off
the cot and hobbled as quickly as she could to the main room of Missing Shoe headquarters.
The door flew open and, with trumpet in hand, Lowell said, “Ta-da! Presenting, live
and in person,
the no-longer-missing Miss Shoe!”

           
Meanwhile, Tina
had gained strength after her fever broke. She stayed in bed all day, doing
exactly as the nurses said, taking her medicine, and getting her vitals checked.
All day she had wondered how well Miss Sobori passed for Tina, whether that
sting had been successful.

            The day went by so
slowly. First, nurses said Tina might be well enough to be released. Her father
was on stand-by. He had stayed nearby all day.

When her father finally
went out to grab a bite to eat, some people came who said they were sent by
Mrs. Hightower. They introduced themselves as volunteers for a charitable
service provider and said their purpose for coming to see her was basically to
see to Tina’s needs. The two women were friendly and sensitive to Tina’s
predicament. They used carefully chosen words and Tina felt at ease with them.
She had the feeling one of them had been trafficked herself and had a deeper
understanding of what Tina had gone through.

Tina showed them pictures
of how she had changed her looks, and they agreed that this was a good step
toward recovery. They gave Tina some other tips, such as developing a new hobby
and finding friends who shared her interests. Then gradually, they suggested,
she would get a network of support with people she felt she could trust.

When they left,
Tina rested and felt energized, thinking about what new things she’d like to do
for fun.  Maybe today she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be, but she knew
she was much healthier than she had been. Maybe, just maybe, she would actually
get to leave the hospital.

The head nurse for
the floor came to see her.

“Is today the day
I get to leave?” Tina asked.

 “No,” the nurse
said. “Not unless the doctor comes, checks you, and gives the OK, but that seems
unlikely. Sorry, sweetie. We’re doing all we can.”

When her father
returned, Tina told him about the two women who came to visit. Maybe because of
the trauma Tina had been through, or maybe because he was a policeman who
suspected criminals around every corner, but for some unknown reason, her
father went off. He ran out into the hallway and started yelling, wanting to
know who it was who thought it was alright to bring visitors in to see Tina.