Chapter 5
Jenifer loosened her coat as she sat alone in the small sidewalk cafe sipping her cup of strong, delicious Colombian coffee and resting her tired feet. The air was still crisp, but the afternoon sun in the clear-blue sky was warm. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was almost four o'clock. Her anxiety and depression about being alone in a strange city had gradually vanished as the magic of Buenos Aires had worked its way into her system.
She had walked to the end of Florida Street, then ventured several blocks farther to the lovely Plaza de Mayo and the government buildings. Returning, she missed the entrance to Florida Street and continued along Avenida de Mayo until she crossed the widest boulevard in the world, the 9 de Julio. It was so wide that it took Jenifer two complete stoplights to cross. She ambled along Avenida de Mayo until she reached the park in front of the Argentine Congress building. There she sat on the edge of a replica of the Trevi fountain and watched the people.
It was such a beautiful city. The buildings were of predominantly French and Italian architecture, giving Buenos Aires a very European appearance. And the people! Jenifer couldn't get over how clean, attractive, and well dressed they were. She didn't know what she had expected, but these people were exactly like the people she had seen in fashionable parts of Richmond and New York.
She was still very nervous and anxious about beginning her married sex life with Peter, but Jenifer was certain that she would love living here in this gorgeous city.
She found the people delightfully kind and courteous. At one o'clock she decided to have a bite to eat and she entered one of the many confiterias that dotted almost every street. The menu was entirely in Spanish, but the waiter helped her order a small steak sandwich through a mixture of sign language and heavily accented English. He was attentive throughout her meal and Jenifer honestly assured him that it was the best beef she had ever tasted.
By a little past three, Jenifer finally admitted to herself that she was hopelessly lost. She had ventured too far on her own and the streets now seemed like a hopeless maze to her. There wasn't a taxi in sight, so Jenifer decided that she would call the embassy and ask directions back to the hotel. She marked down the names of the two streets at the comer, then looked for a public phone. It took her a while to find the number of the embassy in the strange directory and a sense of relief filled her when she heard the embassy operator's voice at the other end of the line. Jenifer explained who she was and her predicament and the operator was kind and understanding, passing her along to one of the secretaries for directions. The girl explained to Jenifer that she was nine blocks from the 9 de Julio and three blocks from Lavalle. She offered to send an embassy driver for her, but Jenifer declined. Just as she was about to hang up, the secretary asked her if she wanted to speak to Peter. He had just walked into the office and laughed when Jenifer told him about being lost. Jenifer's heart sank when Peter explained that he would be late getting back to the hotel, but she quickly resigned herself when the tone of his voice told her that he was as disappointed as she. After all, the government had rushed him down here and this was his first day at the embassy.
In no hurry, Jenifer had walked the streets of this exciting city until her feet were swollen and throbbing. She found a table in a pleasant sidewalk cafe and ordered coffee. The rich Colombian coffee was so good that she ordered a second cup and allowed herself to completely relax.
Jenifer was debating between a movie and more sightseeing. Peter had said that it would be eight or later before he could return to the hotel, and that gave her four hours. She had passed several theaters that had posters advertising new American movies, but Jenifer wondered if they were in English. She knew that her feet would be sore for days if she continued ambling about the city, so she decided to find a theater and see if the pictures were given in English. If not, she could always return to the hotel and rest. Subconsciously, Jenifer didn't want to be alone in that room staring at the bed.
Jenifer didn't notice the two men across the street as she left the sidewalk cafe. She hesitated at the comer for a moment, trying to remember where she had seen the movie theaters. A gray Fiat approached the curb and Jenifer was startled when it stopped in front of her and the driver, a lean, rather ugly, Latin leaned out and spoke to her in perfect English.
"Pardon me, Miss," the man said politely, "but I'm a stranger here and I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how to get to 9 de Julio?"
"I'm a stranger here myself," Jenifer responded after hesitating for a moment. She was reluctant about speaking to a strange man like this, but she remembered how it felt to be lost and how courteous people had been to her. "But I think the street you want is about six blocks in that direction?"
"Here, I have a map," the man said. "Could you show me where I am?"
Jenifer leaned over to study the map that the man had spread out on the front seat. She didn't hear the two men quietly come up behind her. She had just opened her mouth to speak when a rough hand clasped tightly over her face.
It happened so quickly that Jenifer didn't have time to react. Two strong hands grabbed her arms and she was propelled roughly into the back seat of the car. She felt the car begin to move even before she heard the door close. Jenifer could see what was happening, but she couldn't do a thing. There was a man on either side of her in the crowded back seat of the Fiat. One had his hand covering her mouth tightly so she couldn't cry out and the other held her arms pinned to her sides.
There was a rapid exchange in Spanish between the driver and the two men and Jenifer found herself being pushed down in the seat as the car began speeding along a quiet street. Pain swept through her young system as her legs doubled behind her, but her cries died behind the man's hand clamped against her mouth.
When the car stopped and the driver opened the back door and leaned over her, Jenifer's heart was pounding in her throat. She was certain that she was going to be brutally raped by these three ugly men. She saw the driver remove a hypodermic syringe from a case.
"This won't hurt, Mrs. Martin," the man said in English. "Just a little something to relax you for the trip."
Jenifer's eyes bulged wide as she watched him dab a piece of moist cotton on her arm and then dart the needle into her flesh. The total stop, including the injection, consumed less than three minutes.
"You drive, Javier," the Hawk commanded. "I'll hold her down now. In about ten minutes she'll be out like a light. How far is it to the airport?"
"Ten, maybe fifteen, minutes," Javier replied, throwing the Fiat into gear and pulling out of the alley.
"But it took me almost an hour to get to town from the airport this morning," Ignacio said.
"That was Ezeiza, where all the international flights land," Javier responded with a chuckle. "All domestic flights use Aeroparque, and that's right downtown."
"How long a flight is it to this place we're taking her?" Ignacio demanded.
"Bariloche? Two hours by jet. Three, maybe longer, in the plane you'll be using. How long will she be unconscious?"
"She ought to sleep for six or seven hours with what I gave her," Ignacio responded.
Jenifer was desparately wishing that she understood Spanish when a sudden numb feeling began racing through her over powered body. The last thing she saw was the cold, piercing stare from the eyes of the ugly man who was holding her down. She shuddered and then lost consciousness.